he time yet when
she thought he would care to hear about it. She had twice tried to
tell him; but neither time had she got beyond the beginning of what
her father had said--John Pendleton had on each occasion turned the
conversation abruptly to another subject.

Pollyanna never doubted now that John Pendleton was her Aunt Polly's
one-time lover; and with all the strength of her loving, loyal heart,
she wished she could in some way bring happiness into their to her
mind--miserably lonely lives.

Just how she was to do this, however, she could not see. She talked
to Mr. Pendleton about her aunt; and he listened, sometimes politely,
sometimes irritably, frequently with a quizzical smile on his usually
stern lips. She talked to her aunt about Mr. Pendleton--or rather, she
tried to talk to her about him. As a general thing, however, Miss Polly
would not listen--long. She always found something else to talk
about. She frequently did that, however, when Pollyanna was talking of
others--of Dr. Chilton, for instance. Pollyanna laid this, though, to
the fact that it had been Dr. Chilton who had seen her in the sun parlor
with the rose in her hair and the lace shawl draped about her shoulders.
Aunt Polly, indeed, seemed particularly bitter against Dr. Chilton, as
Pollyanna found out one day when a hard cold shut her up in the house.

"If you are not better by night I shall send for the doctor," Aunt Polly
said.

"Shall you? Then I'm going to be worse," gurgled Pollyanna. "I'd love to
have Dr. Chilton come to see me!"

She wondered, then, at the look that came to her aunt's face.

"It will not be Dr. Chilton, Pollyanna," Miss Polly said sternly. "Dr.
Chilton is not our family physician. I shall send for Dr. Warren--if you
are worse."

Pollyanna did not grow worse, however, and Dr. Warren was not summoned.

"And I'm so glad, too," Pollyanna said to her aunt that evening. "Of
course I like Dr. Warren, and all that; but I like Dr. Chilton better,
and I'm afraid he'd feel hurt if I didn't have him. You see, he wasn't
really to blame, after all, that he happened to see you when I'd dressed
you up so pretty that day, Aunt Polly," she finished wistfully.

"That will do, Pollyanna. I really do not wish to discuss Dr.
Chilton--or his feelings," reproved Miss Polly, decisively.

Pollyanna looked at her for a moment with mournfully interested eyes;
then she sighed:

"I just love to see you when your cheeks are pink like that, Aun