came to them, I was so ashamed! I--"

Pollyanna began to dance up and down lightly on her toes.

"You didn't!--You didn't say I COULDN'T do your hair," she crowed
triumphantly; "and so I'm sure it means just the other way
'round, sort of--like it did the other day about Mr. Pendleton's
jelly that you didn't send, but didn't want me to say you didn't
send, you know. Now wait just where you are. I'll get a comb."

"But Pollyanna, Pollyanna," remonstrated Aunt Polly, following
the little girl from the room and panting up-stairs after her.

"Oh, did you come up here?" Pollyanna greeted her at the door of
Miss Polly's own room. "That'll be nicer yet! I've got the comb.
Now sit down, please, right here. Oh, I'm so glad you let me do
it!"

"But, Pollyanna, I--I--"

Miss Polly did not finish her sentence. To her helpless amazement
she found herself in the low chair before the dressing table,
with her hair already tumbling about her ears under ten eager,
but very gentle fingers.

"Oh, my! what pretty hair you've got," prattled Pollyanna; "and
there's so much more of it than Mrs. Snow has, too! But, of
course, you need more, anyhow, because you're well and can go to
places where folks can see it. My! I reckon folks'll be glad when
they do see it--and surprised, too, 'cause you've hid it so long.