Pollyanna

  CHAPTER XXIX. THROUGH AN OPEN WINDOW

  One by one the short winter days came and went--but they were notshort to Pollyanna. They were long, and sometimes full of pain. Veryresolutely, these days, however, Pollyanna was turning a cheerful facetoward whatever came. Was she not specially bound to play the game, nowthat Aunt Polly was playing it, too? And Aunt Polly found so many thingsto be glad about! It was Aunt Polly, too, who discovered the storyone day about the two poor little waifs in a snow-storm who found ablown-down door to crawl under, and who wondered what poor folks didthat didn't have any door! And it was Aunt Polly who brought home theother story that she had heard about the poor old lady who had only twoteeth, but who was so glad that those two teeth "hit"!

  Pollyanna now, like Mrs. Snow, was knitting wonderful things out ofbright colored worsteds that trailed their cheery lengths across thewhite spread, and made Pollyanna--again like Mrs. Snow--so glad she hadher hands and arms, anyway.

  Pollyanna saw people now, occasionally, and always there were the lovingmessages from those she could not see; and always they brought hersomething new to think about--and Pollyanna needed new things to thinkabout.

  Once she had seen John Pendleton, and twice she had seen Jimmy Bean.John Pendleton had told her what a fine boy Jimmy was getting to be, andhow well he was doing. Jimmy had told her what a first-rate home he had,and what bang-up "folks" Mr. Pendleton made; and both had said that itwas all owing to her.

  "Which makes me all the gladder, you know, that I HAVE had my legs,"Pollyanna confided to her aunt afterwards.

  The winter passed, and spring came. The anxious watchers overPollyanna's condition could see little change wrought by the prescribedtreatment. There seemed every reason to believe, indeed, that Dr. Mead'sworst fears would be realized--that Pollyanna would never walk again.

  Beldingsville, of course, kept itself informed concerning Pollyanna; andof Beldingsville, one man in particular fumed and fretted himself intoa fever of anxiety over the daily bulletins which he managed in some wayto procure from the bed of suffering. As the days passed, however,and the news came to be no better, but rather worse, something besidesanxiety began to show in the man's face: despair, and a very doggeddetermination, each fighting for the mastery. In the end, the doggeddetermination won; and it was then that Mr. John Pendleton, somewhatto his surprise, received one Saturday morning a call from Dr. ThomasChilton.

  "Pendleton," began the doctor, abruptly, "I've come to you because you,better than any one else in town, know something of my relations withMiss Polly Harrington."

  John Pendleton was conscious that he must have started visibly--hedid know something of the affair between Polly Harrington and ThomasChilton, but the matter had not been mentioned between them for fifteenyears, or more.

  "Yes," he said, trying to make his voice sound concerned enough forsympathy, and not eager enough for curiosity. In a moment he saw that heneed not have worried, however: the doctor was quite too intent on hiserrand to notice how that errand was received.

  "Pendleton, I want to see that child. I want to make an examination. IMUST make an examination."

  "Well--can't you?"

  "CAN'T I! Pendleton, you know very well I haven't been inside that doorfor more than fifteen years. You don't know--but I will tell you--thatthe mistress of that house told me that the NEXT time she ASKED me toenter it, I might take it that she was begging my pardon, and that allwould be as before--which meant that she'd marry me. Perhaps you see hersummoning me now--but I don't!"

  "But couldn't you go--without a summons?"

  The doctor frowned.

  "Well, hardly. _I_ have some pride, you know."

  "But if you're so anxious--couldn't you swallow your pride and forgetthe quarrel--"

  "Forget the quarrel!" interrupted the doctor, savagely. "I'm not talkingof that kind of pride. So far as THAT is concerned, I'd go from herethere on my knees--or on my head--if that would do any good. It'sPROFESSIONAL pride I'm talking about. It's a case of sickness, and I'm adoctor. I can't butt in and say, 'Here, take me!'can I?"

  "Chilton, what was the quarrel?" demanded Pendleton.

  The doctor made an impatient gesture, and got to his feet.

  "What was it? What's any lovers' quarrel after it's over?" he snarled,pacing the room angrily. "A silly wrangle over the size of the moon orthe depth of a river, maybe--it might as well be, so far as its havingany real significance compared to the years of misery that follow them!Never mind the quarrel! So far as I am concerned, I am willing to saythere was no quarrel. Pendleton, I must see that child. It may mean lifeor death. It will mean--I honestly believe--nine chances out of ten thatPollyanna Whittier will walk again!"

  The words were spoken clearly, impressively; and they were spoken justas the one who uttered them had almost reached the open window near JohnPendleton's chair. Thus it happened that very distinctly they reachedthe ears of a small boy kneeling beneath the window on the groundoutside.

  Jimmy Bean, at his Saturday morning task of pulling up the first littlegreen weeds of the flowerbeds, sat up with ears and eyes wide open.

  "Walk! Pollyanna!" John Pendleton was saying. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean that from what I can hear and learn--a mile from herbedside--that her case is very much like one that a college friend ofmine has just helped. For years he's been making this sort of thing aspecial study. I've kept in touch with him, and studied, too, in a way.And from what I hear--but I want to SEE the girl!"

  John Pendleton came erect in his chair.

  "You must see her, man! Couldn't you--say, through Dr. Warren?"

  The other shook his head.

  "I'm afraid not. Warren has been very decent, though. He told mehimself that he suggested consultation with me at the first, but--MissHarrington said no so decisively that he didn't dare venture it again,even though he knew of my desire to see the child. Lately, some of hisbest patients have come over to me--so of course that ties my handsstill more effectually. But, Pendleton, I've got to see that child!Think of what it may mean to her--if I do!"

  "Yes, and think of what it will mean--if you don't!" retorted Pendleton.

  "But how can I--without a direct request from her aunt?--which I'llnever get!"

  "She must be made to ask you!"

  "How?"

  "I don't know."

  "No, I guess you don't--nor anybody else. She's too proud and too angryto ask me--after what she said years ago it would mean if she did askme. But when I think of that child, doomed to lifelong misery, and whenI think that maybe in my hands lies a chance of escape, but for thatconfounded nonsense we call pride and professional etiquette, I--" Hedid not finish his sentence, but with his hands thrust deep into hispockets, he turned and began to tramp up and down the room again,angrily.

  "But if she could be made to see--to understand," urged John Pendleton.

  "Yes; and who's going to do it?" demanded the doctor, with a savageturn.

  "I don't know, I don't know," groaned the other, miserably.

  Outside the window Jimmy Bean stirred suddenly. Up to now he hadscarcely breathed, so intently had he listened to every word.

  "Well, by Jinks, I know!" he whispered, exultingly. "I'M a-goin' terdo it!" And forthwith he rose to his feet, crept stealthily around thecorner of the house, and ran with all his might down Pendleton Hill.