“I know; that sounds like things father used to say,” faltered Pollyanna, blinking off the tears. “He said there was always something about everything that might be worse; but I reckon he'd never just heard he couldn't ever walk again. I don't see how there CAN be anything about that, that could be worse—do you?”
Miss Hunt did not reply. She could not trust herself to speak just then.
CHAPTER XXVII. TWO VISITS
It was Nancy who was sent to tell Mr. John Pendleton of Dr. Mead's verdict. Miss Polly had remembered her promise to let him have direct information from the house. To go herself, or to write a letter, she felt to be almost equally out of the question. It occurred to her then to send Nancy.
There had been a time when Nancy would have rejoiced greatly at this extraordinary opportunity to see something of the House of Mystery and its master. But to-day her heart was too heavy to, rejoice at anything. She scarcely even looked about her at all, indeed, during the few minutes, she waited for Mr. John Pendleton to appear.
“I'm Nancy, sir,” she said respectfully, in response to the surprised questioning of his eyes, when he came into the room. “Miss Harrington sent me to tell you about—Miss Pollyanna.”
“Well?”
In spite of the curt terseness of the word, Nancy quite understood the anxiety that lay behind that short “well?”
“It ain't well, Mr. Pendleton,” she choked.