usually move listlessly. In her ears still was the boy's scornful
"you was so good and kind." In her heart was a curious sense of
desolation--as of something lost.



CHAPTER XII. BEFORE THE LADIES' AID

Dinner, which came at noon in the Harrington homestead, was a
silent meal on the day of the Ladies' Aid meeting. Pollyanna, it
is true, tried to talk; but she did not make a success of it,
chiefly because four times she was obliged to break off a "glad"
in the middle of it, much to her blushing discomfort. The fifth
time it happened, Miss Polly moved her head wearily.

"There, there, child, say it, if you want to," she sighed. "I'm
sure I'd rather you did than not if it's going to make all this
fuss."

Pollyanna's puckered little face cleared.

"Oh, thank you. I'm afraid it would be pretty hard--not to say
it. You see I've played it so long."

"You've--what?" demanded Aunt Polly.

"Played it--the game, you know, that father--" Pollyanna stopped
with a painful blush at finding herself so soon again on
forbidden ground.