Eleanor H. Porter: Pollyanna

19. CHAPTER XIX. WHICH IS SOMEWHAT SURPRISING (continued)

"That's why I want you, little girl--to help me play it. Will you come?"

Pollyanna turned in surprise.

"Mr. Pendleton, you don't really mean--that?

"But I do. I want you. Will you come?"

Pollyanna looked distressed.

"Why, Mr. Pendleton, I can't--you know I can't. Why, I'm--Aunt Polly's!"

A quick something crossed the man's face that Pollyanna could not quite understand. His head came up almost fiercely.

"You're no more hers than--Perhaps she would let you come to me," he finished more gently. "Would you come--if she did?"

Pollyanna frowned in deep thought.

"But Aunt Polly has been so--good to me," she began slowly; "and she took me when I didn't have anybody left but the Ladies' Aid, and--"

Again that spasm of something crossed the man's face; but this time, when he spoke, his voice was low and very sad.

"Pollyanna, long years ago I loved somebody very much. I hoped to bring her, some day, to this house. I pictured how happy we'd be together in our home all the long years to come."

"Yes," pitied Pollyanna, her eyes shining with sympathy.

"But--well, I didn't bring her here. Never mind why. I just didn't that's all. And ever since then this great gray pile of stone has been a house--never a home. It takes a woman's hand and heart, or a child's presence, to make a home, Pollyanna; and I have not had either. Now will you come, my dear?"

Pollyanna sprang to her feet. Her face was fairly illumined.