Pendleton. Windows were open, an elderly woman was hanging out
clothes in the back yard, and the doctor's gig stood under the
porte-cochere.

As before Pollyanna went to the side door. This time she rang the
bell--her fingers were not stiff to-day from a tight clutch on a
bunch of keys.

A familiar-looking small dog bounded up the steps to greet her,
but there was a slight delay before the woman who had been
hanging out the clothes opened the door.

"If you please, I've brought some calf's-foot jelly for Mr.
Pendleton," smiled Pollyanna.

"Thank you," said the woman, reaching for the bowl in the little
girl's hand. "Who shall I say sent it? And it's calf's-foot
jelly?"

The doctor, coming into the hall at that moment, heard the
woman's words and saw the disappointed look on Pollyanna's face.
He stepped quickly forward.

"Ah! Some calf's-foot jelly?" he asked genially. "That will be
fine! Maybe you'd like to see our patient, eh?"

"Oh, yes, sir," beamed Pollyanna; and the woman, in obedience to
a nod from the doctor, led the way down the hall at once, though
plainly with vast surprise on her face.