Christmas evening John Pendleton called. Mrs. Chilton excused herself, but Pollyanna, utterly worn out from a long day with her aunt, welcomed him joyously. But even here she found a fly in the amber of her content; for John Pendleton had brought with him a letter from Jimmy, and the letter was full of nothing but the plans he and Mrs. Carew were making for a wonderful Christmas celebration at the Home for Working Girls: and Pollyanna, ashamed though she was to own it to herself, was not in a mood to hear about Christmas celebrations just then—least of all, Jimmy's.
John Pendleton, however, was not ready to let the subject drop, even when the letter had been read.
"Great doings—those!" he exclaimed, as he folded the letter.
"Yes, indeed; fine!" murmured Pollyanna, trying to speak with due enthusiasm.
"And it's to-night, too, isn't it? I'd like to drop in on them about now."
"Yes," murmured Pollyanna again, with still more careful enthusiasm.
"Mrs. Carew knew what she was about when she got Jimmy to help her, I fancy," chuckled the man. "But I'm wondering how Jimmy likes it—playing Santa Claus to half a hundred young women at once!"
"Why, he finds it delightful, of course!" Pollyanna lifted her chin ever so slightly.
"Maybe. Still, it's a little different from learning to build bridges, you must confess."
"Oh, yes."
