Minute by minute the time passed. The sun dropped lower in the west and the shadows grew deeper under the trees. Pollyanna sat so still she hardly seemed to breathe. A bird alighted fearlessly within reach of her hand, and a squirrel whisked his bushy tail on a tree-branch almost under her nose--yet with his bright little eyes all the while on the motionless dog.
At last the dog pricked up his cars and whined softly; then he gave a short, sharp bark. The next moment Pollyanna heard voices, and very soon their owners appeared three men carrying a stretcher and various other articles.
The tallest of the party--a smooth-shaven, kind-eyed man whom Pollyanna knew by sight as “Dr. Chilton”--advanced cheerily.
“Oh, no, sir,” smiled Pollyanna. “I've only held his head--I haven't given him a mite of medicine. But I'm glad I was here.”
“So am I,” nodded the doctor, as he turned his absorbed attention to the injured man.
Pollyanna was a little late for supper on the night of the accident to John Pendleton; but, as it happened, she escaped without reproof.
“Well, if I ain't glad ter be settin' my two eyes on you,” she sighed in obvious relief. “It's half-past six!”
“I know it,” admitted Pollyanna anxiously; “but I'm not to blame--truly I'm not. And I don't think even Aunt Polly will say I am, either.”
“She won't have the chance,” retorted Nancy, with huge satisfaction. “She's gone.”
“Gone!” gasped Pollyanna. “You don't mean that I've driven her away?” Through Pollyanna's mind at the moment trooped remorseful memories of the morning with its unwanted boy, cat, and dog, and its unwelcome “glad” and forbidden “father” that would spring to her forgetful little tongue. “Oh, I DIDN'T drive her away?”
“Not much you did,” scoffed Nancy. “Her cousin died suddenly down to Boston, and she had ter go. She had one o' them yeller telegram letters after you went away this afternoon, and she won't be back for three days. Now I guess we're glad all right. We'll be keepin' house tergether, jest you and me, all that time. We will, we will!”
“Oh, but 'twa'n't the funeral I was glad for, Miss Pollyanna. It was--” Nancy stopped abruptly. A shrewd twinkle came into her eyes. “Why, Miss Pollyanna, as if it wa'n't yerself that was teachin' me ter play the game,” she reproached her gravely.