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Pollyanna Grows Up


"Oh, Jimmy, Jimmy, why did you come, why did you come? I was going to write and tell you straight away," moaned Pollyanna.

"But you did write me, dear. I got it yesterday afternoon, just in time to catch my train."

"No, no;—again, I mean. I didn't know then that I—I couldn't."

"Couldn't! Pollyanna,"—his eyes flamed into stern wrath,—"you don't mean to tell me there's anybody else's love you think you've got to keep me waiting for?" he demanded, holding her at arm's length.

"No, no, Jimmy! Don't look at me like that. I can't bear it!"

"Then what is it? What is it you can't do?"

"I can't—marry you."

"Pollyanna, do you love me?"

"Yes. Oh, y-yes."

"Then you shall marry me," triumphed Jimmy, his arms enfolding her again.

"No, no, Jimmy, you don't understand. It's—Aunt Polly," struggled Pollyanna.

"Aunt Polly!"

"Yes. She—won't let me."

"Ho!" Jimmy tossed his head with a light laugh. "We'll fix Aunt Polly. She thinks she's going to lose you, but we'll just remind her that she—she's going to gain a—a new nephew!" he finished in mock importance.

But Pollyanna did not smile. She turned her head hopelessly from side to side.