Eleanor H. Porter: Pollyanna

14. CHAPTER XIV. JUST A MATTER OF JELLY (continued)

"Pollyanna, wait! Miss Polly's voice was suddenly very stern. I've changed my mind. I would prefer that Mrs. Snow had that jelly to-day--as usual. That is all. You may go now."

Pollyanna's face fell.

"Oh, but Aunt Polly, HERS will last. She can always be sick and have things, you know; but his is just a broken leg, and legs don't last--I mean, broken ones. He's had it a whole week now."

"Yes, I remember. I heard Mr. John Pendleton had met with an accident," said Miss Polly, a little stiffly; "but--I do not care to be sending jelly to John Pendleton, Pollyanna."

"I know, he is cross--outside," admitted Pollyanna, sadly, "so I suppose you don't like him. But I wouldn't say 'twas you sent it. I'd say 'twas me. I like him. I'd be glad to send him jelly."

Miss Polly began to shake her head again. Then, suddenly, she stopped, and asked in a curiously quiet voice:

"Does he know who you--are, Pollyanna?"

The little girl sighed.

"I reckon not. I told him my name, once, but he never calls me it--never."

"Does he know where you--live?"

"Oh, no. I never told him that."

"Then he doesn't know you're my--niece?"

"I don't think so."

For a moment there was silence. Miss Polly was looking at Pollyanna with eyes that did not seem to see her at all. The little girl, shifting impatiently from one small foot to the other, sighed audibly. Then Miss Polly roused herself with a start.