Fate, however, as it happened, once more intervened in the shape of a
heavy rainstorm; and Pollyanna did not have to more than look out of
doors the next morning to realize that there would be no Public Garden
stroll that day. Worse yet, neither the next day nor the next saw the
clouds dispelled; and Pollyanna spent all three afternoons wandering
from window to window, peering up into the sky, and anxiously
demanding of every one: "DON'T you think it looks a LITTLE like
clearing up?"

So unusual was this behavior on the part of the cheery little girl,
and so irritating was the constant questioning, that at last Mrs.
Carew lost her patience.

"For pity's sake, child, what is the trouble?" she cried. "I never
knew you to fret so about the weather. Where's that wonderful glad
game of yours to-day?"

Pollyanna reddened and looked abashed.

"Dear me, I reckon maybe I did forget the game this time," she
admitted. "And of course there IS something about it I can be glad
for, if I'll only hunt for it. I can be glad that--that it will HAVE
to stop raining sometime 'cause God said he WOULDN'T send another
flood. But you see, I did so want it to be pleasant to-day."

"Why, especially?"

"Oh, I--I just wanted to go to walk in the Public Garden." Pollyanna
was trying hard to speak unconcernedly. "I--I thought maybe you'd like
to go with me, too." Outwardly Pollyanna was nonchalance itself.