The doctor shook his head with a smile.
“Not exactly. It's Mr. John Pendleton. He would like to see you to-day, if you'll be so good as to come. It's stopped raining, so I drove down after you. Will you come? I'll call for you and bring you back before six o'clock.”
“I'd love to!” exclaimed Pollyanna. “Let me ask Aunt Polly.”
In a few moments she returned, hat in hand, but with rather a sober face.
“Didn't—your aunt want you to go?” asked the doctor, a little diffidently, as they drove away.
“Y-yes,” sighed Pollyanna. “She—she wanted me to go TOO much, I'm afraid.”
“Wanted you to go TOO MUCH!”
Pollyanna sighed again.
“Yes. I reckon she meant she didn't want me there. You see, she said: 'Yes, yes, run along, run along—do! I wish you'd gone before.'”
The doctor smiled—but with his lips only. His eyes were very grave. For some time he said nothing; then, a little hesitatingly, he asked: