First came Mr. John Pendleton.  He came without his crutches to-day.

“I don’t need to tell you how shocked I am,” he began almost harshly.  “But can—­nothing be done?”

Miss Polly gave a gesture of despair.

“Oh, we’re ‘doing,’ of course, all the time.  Dr. Mead prescribed certain treatments and medicines that might help, and Dr. Warren is carrying them out to the letter, of course.  But—­Dr. Mead held out almost no hope.”

John Pendleton rose abruptly—­though he had but just come.  His face was white, and his mouth was set into stern lines.  Miss Polly, looking at him, knew very well why he felt that he could not stay longer in her presence.  At the door he turned.

“I have a message for Pollyanna,” he said.  “Will you tell her, please, that I have seen Jimmy Bean and—­that he’s going to be my boy hereafter.  Tell her I thought she would be—­glad to know.  I shall adopt him, probably.”

For a brief moment Miss Polly lost her usual well-bred self-control.

“You will adopt Jimmy Bean!” she gasped.

The man lifted his chin a little.

“Yes.  I think Pollyanna will understand.  You will tell her I thought she would be—­glad!”

“Why, of—­of course,” faltered Miss Polly.

“Thank you,” bowed John Pendleton, as he turned to go.

In the middle of the floor Miss Polly stood, silent and amazed, still looking after the man who had just left her.  Even yet she could scarcely believe what her ears had heard.  John Pendleton adopt Jimmy Bean?  John Pendleton, wealthy, independent, morose, reputed to be miserly and supremely selfish, to adopt a little boy—­and such a little boy?

With a somewhat dazed face Miss Polly went up-stairs to Pollyanna’s room.

“Pollyanna, I have a message for you from Mr. John Pendleton.  He has just been here.  He says to tell you he has taken Jimmy Bean for his little boy.  He said he thought you’d be glad to know it.”

Pollyanna’s wistful little face flamed into sudden joy.

“Glad?  Glad?  Well, I reckon I am glad!  Oh, Aunt Polly, I’ve so wanted to find a place for Jimmy—­and that’s such a lovely place!  Besides, I’m so glad for Mr. Pendleton, too.  You see, now he’ll have the child’s presence.”

“The—­what?”

Pollyanna colored painfully.  She had forgotten that she had never told her aunt of Mr. Pendleton’s desire to adopt her—­and certainly she would not wish to tell her now that she had ever thought for a minute of leaving her—­this dear Aunt Polly!

“The child’s presence,” stammered Pollyanna, hastily.  “Mr. Pendleton told me once, you see, that only a woman’s hand and heart or a child’s presence could make a—­a home.  And now he’s got it—­the child’s presence.”

“Oh, I—­see,” said Miss Polly very gently; and she did see—­more than Pollyanna realized.  She saw something of the pressure that was probably brought to bear on Pollyanna herself at the time John Pendleton was asking her to be the “child’s presence,” which was to transform his great pile of gray stone into a home.  “I see,” she finished, her eyes stinging with sudden tears.