“Yes.  But afterwards—­”

“What was it?” Nancy was eagerly insistent.

“He didn’t tell me.  He just said it was something.”

“The mystery!” breathed Nancy, in an awestruck voice.  “That’s why he took to you in the first place.  Oh, Miss Pollyanna!  Why, that’s just like a book—­I’ve read lots of ’em; ’Lady Maud’s Secret,’ and ‘The Lost Heir,’ and ’Hidden for Years’—­all of ’em had mysteries and things just like this.  My stars and stockings!  Just think of havin’ a book lived right under yer nose like this an’ me not knowin’ it all this time!  Now tell me everythin’—­everythin’ he said, Miss Pollyanna, there’s a dear!  No wonder he took ter you; no wonder—­no wonder!”

“But he didn’t,” cried Pollyanna, “not till I talked to him, first.  And he didn’t even know who I was till I took the calf’s-foot jelly, and had to make him understand that Aunt Polly didn’t send it, and—­”

Nancy sprang to her feet and clasped her hands together suddenly.

“Oh, Miss Pollyanna, I know, I know—­I know I know!” she exulted rapturously.  The next minute she was down at Pollyanna’s side again.  “Tell me—­now think, and answer straight and true,” she urged excitedly.  “It was after he found out you was Miss Polly’s niece that he said he didn’t ever want ter see ye again, wa’n’t it?”

“Oh, yes.  I told him that the last time I saw him, and he told me this to-day.”

“I thought as much,” triumphed Nancy.  “And Miss Polly wouldn’t send the jelly herself, would she?”

“No.”

“And you told him she didn’t send it?”

“Why, yes; I—­”

“And he began ter act queer and cry out sudden after he found out you was her niece.  He did that, didn’t he?”

“Why, y-yes; he did act a little queer—­over that jelly,” admitted Pollyanna, with a thoughtful frown.

Nancy drew a long sigh.

“Then I’ve got it, sure!  Now listen.  Mr. John Pendleton was miss Polly Harrington’s lover!” she announced impressively, but with a furtive glance over her shoulder.

“Why, Nancy, he couldn’t be!  She doesn’t like him,” objected Pollyanna.

Nancy gave her a scornful glance.

“Of course she don’t!  That’s the quarrel!”

Pollyanna still looked incredulous, and with another long breath Nancy happily settled herself to tell the story.

“It’s like this.  Just before you come, Mr. Tom told me Miss Polly had had a lover once.  I didn’t believe it.  I couldn’t—­her and a lover!  But Mr. Tom said she had, and that he was livin’ now right in this town.  And now I know, of course.  It’s John Pendleton.  Hain’t he got a mystery in his life?  Don’t he shut himself up in that grand house alone, and never speak ter no one?  Didn’t he act queer when he found out you was Miss Polly’s niece?  And now hain’t he owned up that you remind him of somethin’ he wants ter forget?  Just as if anybody couldn’t see ‘twas Miss Polly!—­an’ her sayin’ she wouldn’t send him no jelly, too.  Why, Miss Pollyanna, it’s as plain as the nose on yer face; it is, it is!”