Page 166 - pollyanna

with ME!’
The task of telling John Pendleton of her decision would
not be an easy one, Pollyanna knew, and she dreaded it. She
was very fond of John Pendleton, and she was very sorry for
him—because he seemed to be so sorry for himself. She was
sorry, too, for the long, lonely life that had made him so un-
happy; and she was grieved that it had been because of her
mother that he had spent those dreary years. She pictured
the great gray house as it would be after its master was well
again, with its silent rooms, its littered floors, its disordered
desk; and her heart ached for his loneliness. She wished that
somewhere, some one might be found who—And it was at
this point that she sprang to her feet with a little cry of joy
at the thought that had come to her.
As soon as she could, after that, she hurried up the hill to
John Pendleton’s house; and in due time she found herself
in the great dim library, with John Pendleton himself sit-
ting near her, his long, thin hands lying idle on the arms of
his chair, and his faithful little dog at his feet.
Well, Pollyanna, is it to be the ‘glad game’ with me, all
the rest of my life?’ asked the man, gently.
‘Oh, yes,’ cried Pollyanna. ‘I’ve thought of the very glad-
dest kind of a thing for you to do, and—‘
‘With—YOU?’ asked John Pendleton, his mouth growing
a little stern at the corners.
‘N-no; but—‘
‘Pollyanna, you aren’t going to say no!’ interrupted a
voice deep with emotion.
‘I—I’ve got to, Mr. Pendleton; truly I have. Aunt Polly—‘

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