it--never."

"Does he know where you--live?"

"Oh, no. I never told him that."

"Then he doesn't know you're my--niece?"

"I don't think so."

For a moment there was silence. Miss Polly was looking at
Pollyanna with eyes that did not seem to see her at all. The
little girl, shifting impatiently from one small foot to the
other, sighed audibly. Then Miss Polly roused herself with a
start.

"Very well, Pollyanna," she said at last, still in that queer
voice, so unlike her own; "you may you may take the jelly to Mr.
Pendleton as your own gift. But understand: I do not send it. Be
very sure that he does not think I do!"

"Yes'm--no'm--thank you, Aunt Polly," exulted Pollyanna, as she
flew through the door.



CHAPTER XV. DR. CHILTON

The great gray pile of masonry looked very different to Pollyanna
when she made her second visit to the house of Mr. John