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Dr. Chilton

           "Yes,"noddedPollyanna. 

           "Well,thedoctorcanbegladbecauseheisn’tlikeotherfolks—thesickones,Imean,whathedoctors,"finishedNancyintriumph. 

           ItwasPollyanna’sturntofrown. 

           "Why,y-yes,"sheadmitted. "OfcoursethatISoneway,butitisn’tthewayIsaid; and—someway,Idon’tseemtoquitelikethesoundofit. Itisn’texactlyasifhesaidhewasgladtheyWEREsick,but—Youdoplaythegamesofunny,sometimesNancy,"shesighed,asshewentintothehouse. 

           Pollyannafoundherauntinthesittingroom. 

           "Whowasthatman—theonewhodroveintotheyard,Pollyanna?"questionedtheladyalittlesharply. 

           "Why,AuntPolly,thatwasDr.Chilton! Don’tyouknowhim?" 

           "Dr.Chilton! Whatwashedoing—here?" 

           "Hedrovemehome. Oh,andIgavethejellytoMr.Pendleton,and—" 

           MissPollyliftedherheadquickly. 

           "Pollyanna,hedidnotthinkIsentit?" 

           "Oh,no,AuntPolly. Itoldhimyoudidn’t." 

           MissPollygrewasuddenvividpink. 

           "YouTOLDhimIdidn’t!" 

           Pollyannaopenedwidehereyesattheremonstrativedismayinheraunt’svoice. 

           "Why,AuntPolly,youSAIDto!" 

           AuntPollysighed. 

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