"I reckon he forgot to tell me one day. You see, I did my part of
the introducing, but he didn't."

Nancy's eyes widened.

"But he never speaks ter anybody, child--he hain't for years, I
guess, except when he just has to, for business, and all that.
He's John Pendleton. He lives all by himself in the big house on
Pendleton Hill. He won't even have any one 'round ter cook for
him--comes down ter the hotel for his meals three times a day. I
know Sally Miner, who waits on him, and she says he hardly opens
his head enough ter tell what he wants ter eat. She has ter guess
it more'n half the time--only it'll be somethin' CHEAP! She knows
that without no tellin'."

Pollyanna nodded sympathetically.

"I know. You have to look for cheap things when you're poor.
Father and I took meals out a lot. We had beans and fish balls
most generally. We used to say how glad we were we liked
beans--that is, we said it specially when we were looking at the
roast turkey place, you know, that was sixty cents. Does Mr.
Pendleton like beans?"

"Like 'em! What if he does--or don't? Why, Miss Pollyanna, he
ain't poor. He's got loads of money, John Pendleton has--from his
father. There ain't nobody in town as rich as he is. He could eat
dollar bills, if he wanted to--and not know it."