The doctor relaxed suddenly, The hand holding the reins fell limply to his lap.

“Oh!  No; I—­didn’t know,” he said quietly.

Pollyanna hurried on—­they were nearing the Harrington homestead.

“Yes; and I’m so glad now.  It’s come out lovely.  Mr. Pendleton asked me to come and live with him, but of course I wouldn’t leave Aunt Polly like that—­after she’d been so good to me.  Then he told me all about the woman’s hand and heart that he used to want, and I found out that he wanted it now; and I was so glad!  For of course if he wants to make up the quarrel, everything will be all right now, and Aunt Polly and I will both go to live there, or else he’ll come to live with us.  Of course Aunt Polly doesn’t know yet, and we haven’t got everything settled; so I suppose that is why he wanted to see me this afternoon, sure.”

The doctor sat suddenly erect.  There was an odd smile on his lips.

“Yes; I can well imagine that Mr. John Pendleton does—­want to see you, Pollyanna,” he nodded, as he pulled his horse to a stop before the door.

“There’s Aunt Polly now in the window,” cried Pollyanna; then, a second later:  “Why, no, she isn’t—­but I thought I saw her!”

“No; she isn’t there—­now,” said the doctor, His lips had suddenly lost their smile.

Pollyanna found a very nervous John Pendleton waiting for her that afternoon.

“Pollyanna,” he began at once.  “I’ve been trying all night to puzzle out what you meant by all that, yesterday—­about my wanting your Aunt Polly’s hand and heart here all those years.  What did you mean?”

“Why, because you were lovers, you know once; and I was so glad you still felt that way now.”

“Lovers!—­your Aunt Polly and I?”

At the obvious surprise in the man’s voice, Pollyanna opened wide her eyes.

“Why, Mr. Pendleton, Nancy said you were!”

The man gave a short little laugh.

“Indeed!  Well, I’m afraid I shall have to say that Nancy—­didn’t know.”

“Then you—­weren’t lovers?” Pollyanna’s voice was tragic with dismay.

“Never!”

“And it isn’t all coming out like a book?”

There was no answer.  The man’s eyes were moodily fixed out the window.

“O dear!  And it was all going so splendidly,” almost sobbed Pollyanna.  “I’d have been so glad to come—­with Aunt Polly.”

“And you won’t—­now?” The man asked the question without turning his head.

“Of course not!  I’m Aunt Polly’s.”

The man turned now, almost fiercely.

“Before you were hers, Pollyanna, you were—­your mother’s.  And—­it was your mother’s hand and heart that I wanted long years ago.”

“My mother’s!”