An inarticulate cry came from the man’s throat.  He raised his hand and began to speak; but the next moment he dropped his hand nervelessly at his side.

“The doctor, sir,” said the maid in the doorway.

Pollyanna rose at once.

John Pendleton turned to her feverishly.

“Pollyanna, for Heaven’s sake, say nothing of what I asked you—­yet,” he begged, in a low voice.  Pollyanna dimpled into a sunny smile.

“Of course not!  Just as if I didn’t know you’d rather tell her yourself!” she called back merrily over her shoulder.

John Pendleton fell limply back in his chair.

“Why, what’s up?” demanded the doctor, a minute later, his fingers on his patient’s galloping pulse.

A whimsical smile trembled on John Pendleton’s lips.

“Overdose of your—­tonic, I guess,” he laughed, as he noted the doctor’s eyes following Pollyanna’s little figure down the driveway.

CHAPTER XX.  WHICH IS MORE SURPRISING

Sunday mornings Pollyanna usually attended church and Sunday school.  Sunday afternoons she frequently went for a walk with Nancy.  She had planned one for the day after her Saturday afternoon visit to Mr. John Pendleton; but on the way home from Sunday school Dr. Chilton overtook her in his gig, and brought his horse to a stop.

“Suppose you let me drive you home, Pollyanna,” he suggested.  “I want to speak to you a minute.  I, was just driving out to your place to tell you,” he went on, as Pollyanna settled herself at his side.  “Mr. Pendleton sent a special request for you to go to see him this afternoon, sure.  He says it’s very important.”

Pollyanna nodded happily.

“Yes, it is, I know.  I’ll go.”

The doctor eyed her with some surprise.

“I’m not sure I shall let you, after all,” he declared, his eyes twinkling.  “You seemed more upsetting than soothing yesterday, young lady.”

Pollyanna laughed.

“Oh, it wasn’t me, truly—­not really, you know; not so much as it was Aunt Polly.”

The doctor turned with a quick start.

“Your—­aunt!” he ejaculated.

Pollyanna gave a happy little bounce in her seat.

“Yes.  And it’s so exciting and lovely, just like a story, you know.  I—­I’m going to tell you,” she burst out, with sudden decision.  “He said not to mention it; but he wouldn’t mind your knowing, of course.  He meant not to mention it to her.”

“Her?”

“Yes; Aunt Polly.  And, of course he would want to tell her himself instead of having me do it—­lovers, so!”

“Lovers!” As the doctor said the word, the horse started violently, as if the hand that held the reins had given them a sharp jerk.

“Yes,” nodded Pollyanna, happily.  “That’s the story-part, you see.  I didn’t know it till Nancy told me.  She said Aunt Polly had a lover years ago, and they quarrelled.  She didn’t know who it was at first.  But we’ve found out now.  It’s Mr. Pendleton, you know.”