CHAPTER XIII. IN PENDLETON WOODS

Pollyanna had not turned her steps toward home, when she left the
chapel. She had turned them, instead, toward Pendleton Hill. It
had been a hard day, for all it had been a "vacation one" (as she
termed the infrequent days when there was no sewing or cooking
lesson), and Pollyanna was sure that nothing would do her quite
so much good as a walk through the green quiet of Pendleton
Woods. Up Pendleton Hill, therefore, she climbed steadily, in
spite of the warm sun on her back.

"I don't have to get home till half-past five, anyway," she was
telling herself; "and it'll be so much nicer to go around by the
way of the woods, even if I do have to climb to get there."

It was very beautiful in the Pendleton Woods, as Pollyanna knew
by experience. But to-day it seemed even more delightful than
ever, notwithstanding her disappointment over what she must tell
Jimmy Bean to-morrow.

"I wish they were up here--all those ladies who talked so loud,"
sighed Pollyanna to herself, raising her eyes to the patches of
vivid blue between the sunlit green of the tree-tops. "Anyhow, if
they were up here, I just reckon they'd change and take Jimmy
Bean for their little boy, all right," she finished, secure in
her conviction, but unable to give a reason for it, even to
herself.

Suddenly Pollyanna lifted her head and listened. A dog had barked
some distance ahead. A moment later he came dashing toward her,