“Why, Mr. Pendleton, I was real glad to come, and I’m sure I don’t see why I shouldn’t be, either.”

“Oh, well, you know, I was pretty cross with you, I’m afraid, both the other day when you so kindly brought me the jelly, and that time when you found me with the broken leg at first.  By the way, too, I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for that.  Now I’m sure that even you would admit that you were very forgiving to come and see me, after such ungrateful treatment as that!”

Pollyanna stirred uneasily.

“But I was glad to find you—­that is, I don’t mean I was glad your leg was broken, of course,” she corrected hurriedly.

John Pendleton smiled.

“I understand.  Your tongue does get away with you once in a while, doesn’t it, Miss Pollyanna?  I do thank you, however; and I consider you a very brave little girl to do what you did that day.  I thank you for the jelly, too,” he added in a lighter voice.

“Did you like it?” asked Pollyanna with interest.

“Very much.  I suppose—­there isn’t any more to-day that—­that Aunt Polly didn’t send, is there?” he asked with an odd smile.

His visitor looked distressed.

“N-no, sir.”  She hesitated, then went on with heightened color.  “Please, Mr. Pendleton, I didn’t mean to be rude the other day when I said Aunt Polly did not send the jelly.”

There was no answer.  John Pendleton was not smiling now.  He was looking straight ahead of him with eyes that seemed to be gazing through and beyond the object before them.  After a time he drew a long sigh and turned to Pollyanna.  When he spoke his voice carried the old nervous fretfulness.

“Well, well, this will never do at all!  I didn’t send for you to see me moping this time.  Listen!  Out in the library—­the big room where the telephone is, you know—­you will find a carved box on the lower shelf of the big case with glass doors in the corner not far from the fireplace.  That is, it’ll be there if that confounded woman hasn’t ‘regulated’ it to somewhere else!  You may bring it to me.  It is heavy, but not too heavy for you to carry, I think.”

“Oh, I’m awfully strong,” declared Pollyanna, cheerfully, as she sprang to her feet.  In a minute she had returned with the box.

It was a wonderful half-hour that Pollyanna spent then.  The box was full of treasures—­curios that John Pendleton had picked up in years of travel—­and concerning each there was some entertaining story, whether it were a set of exquisitely carved chessmen from China, or a little jade idol from India.

It was after she had heard the story about the idol that Pollyanna murmured wistfully: 

“Well, I suppose it would be better to take a little boy in India to bring up—­one that didn’t know any more than to think that God was in that doll-thing—­than it would be to take Jimmy Bean, a little boy who knows God is up in the sky.  Still, I can’t help wishing they had wanted Jimmy Bean, too, besides the India boys.”