“Of course she’s been good to you!  But she doesn’t want you, I’ll warrant, half so much as I do,” he contested.

“Why, Mr. Pendleton, she’s glad, I know, to have—­”

“Glad!” interrupted the man, thoroughly losing his patience now.  “I’ll wager Miss Polly doesn’t know how to be glad—­for anything!  Oh, she does her duty, I know.  She’s a very dutiful woman.  I’ve had experience with her ‘duty,’ before.  I’ll acknowledge we haven’t been the best of friends for the last fifteen or twenty years.  But I know her.  Every one knows her—­and she isn’t the ‘glad’ kind, Pollyanna.  She doesn’t know how to be.  As for your coming to me—­you just ask her and see if she won’t let you come.  And, oh, little girl, little girl, I want you so!” he finished brokenly.

Pollyanna rose to her feet with a long sigh.

“All right.  I’ll ask her,” she said wistfully.  “Of course I don’t mean that I wouldn’t like to live here with you, Mr. Pendleton, but—­” She did not complete her sentence.  There was a moment’s silence, then she added:  “Well, anyhow, I’m glad I didn’t tell her yesterday;—­’cause then I supposed she was wanted, too.”

John Pendleton smiled grimly.

“Well, yes, Pollyanna; I guess it is just as well you didn’t mention it—­yesterday.”

“I didn’t—­only to the doctor; and of course he doesn’t count.”

“The doctor!” cried John Pendleton, turning quickly.  “Not—­Dr.—­Chilton?”

“Yes; when he came to tell me you wanted to see me to-day, you know.”

“Well, of all the—­” muttered the man, falling back in his chair.  Then he sat up with sudden interest.  “And what did Dr. Chilton say?” he asked.

Pollyanna frowned thoughtfully.

“Why, I don’t remember.  Not much, I reckon.  Oh, he did say he could well imagine you did want to see me.”

“Oh, did he, indeed!” answered John Pendleton.  And Pollyanna wondered why he gave that sudden queer little laugh.

CHAPTER XXI.  A QUESTION ANSWERED

The sky was darkening fast with what appeared to be an approaching thunder shower when Pollyanna hurried down the hill from John Pendleton’s house.  Half-way home she met Nancy with an umbrella.  By that time, however, the clouds had shifted their position and the shower was not so imminent.

“Guess it’s goin’ ’round ter the north,” announced Nancy, eyeing the sky critically.  “I thought ’twas, all the time, but Miss Polly wanted me ter come with this.  She was worried about ye!”

“Was she?” murmured Pollyanna abstractedly, eyeing the clouds in her turn.

Nancy sniffed a little.

“You don’t seem ter notice what I said,” she observed aggrievedly.  “I said yer aunt was worried about ye!”

“Oh,” sighed Pollyanna, remembering suddenly the question she was so soon to ask her aunt.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to scare her.”