“I should think SOMEBODY might give me a new nightdress—instead of lamb broth, for a change!”

“Why—mother!”

No wonder Milly quite gasped aloud with bewilderment. In the drawer behind her at that moment lay two new nightdresses that Milly for months had been vainly urging her mother to wear.

[ [!-- H2 anchor --] ]

CHAPTER IX. WHICH TELLS OF THE MAN

It rained the next time Pollyanna saw the Man. She greeted him, however, with a bright smile.

“It isn't so nice to-day, is it?” she called blithesomely. “I'm glad it doesn't rain always, anyhow!”

The man did not even grunt this time, nor turn his head. Pollyanna decided that of course he did not hear her. The next time, therefore (which happened to be the following day), she spoke up louder. She thought it particularly necessary to do this, anyway, for the Man was striding along, his hands behind his back, and his eyes on the ground—which seemed, to Pollyanna, preposterous in the face of the glorious sunshine and the freshly-washed morning air: Pollyanna, as a special treat, was on a morning errand to-day.

“How do you do?” she chirped. “I'm so glad it isn't yesterday, aren't you?”

The man stopped abruptly. There was an angry scowl on his face.