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Through an open window

           "Whatwasit? What’sanylovers’quarrelafterit’sover?"hesnarled,pacingtheroomangrily. "Asillywrangleoverthesizeofthemoonorthedepthofariver,maybe—itmightaswellbe,sofarasitshavinganyrealsignificancecomparedtotheyearsofmiserythatfollowthem! Nevermindthequarrel! SofarasIamconcerned,Iamwillingtosaytherewasnoquarrel. Pendleton,Imustseethatchild. Itmaymeanlifeordeath. Itwillmean—Ihonestlybelieve—ninechancesoutoftenthatPollyannaWhittierwillwalkagain!" 

           Thewordswerespokenclearly,impressively; andtheywerespokenjustastheonewhoutteredthemhadalmostreachedtheopenwindownearJohnPendleton’schair. Thusithappenedthatverydistinctlytheyreachedtheearsofasmallboykneelingbeneaththewindowonthegroundoutside. 

           JimmyBean,athisSaturdaymorningtaskofpullingupthefirstlittlegreenweedsoftheflowerbeds,satupwithearsandeyeswideopen. 

           "Walk! Pollyanna!" JohnPendletonwassaying. "Whatdoyoumean?" 

           "ImeanthatfromwhatIcanhearandlearn—amilefromherbedside—thathercaseisverymuchlikeonethatacollegefriendofminehasjusthelped. Foryearshe’sbeenmakingthissortofthingaspecialstudy. I’vekeptintouchwithhim,andstudied,too,inaway. AndfromwhatIhear—butIwanttoSEEthegirl!" 

           JohnPendletoncameerectinhischair. 

           "Youmustseeher,man! Couldn’tyou—say,throughDr.Warren?" 

           Theothershookhishead. 

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