en the sun
shines through me, Mr. Pendleton!"

"Don't you?" smiled the man. And Pollyanna, looking into his face,
wondered why there were tears in his eyes.

"No," she said. Then, after a minute she added mournfully: "I'm afraid,
Mr. Pendleton, the sun doesn't make anything but freckles out of me.
Aunt Polly says it DOES make them!"

The man laughed a little; and again Pollyanna looked at him: the laugh
had sounded almost like a sob.

CHAPTER XIX. WHICH IS SOMEWHAT SURPRISING

Pollyanna entered school in September. Preliminary examinations showed
that she was well advanced for a girl of her years, and she was soon a
happy member of a class of girls and boys her own age.

School, in some ways, was a surprise to Pollyanna; and Pollyanna,
certainly, in many ways, was very much of a surprise to school. They
were soon on the best of terms, however, and to her aunt Pollyanna
confessed that going to school WAS living, after all--though she had had
her doubts before.

In spite of her delight in her new work, Pollyanna did not forget her
old friends. True, she could not give them quite so much time now, of
course; but she gave them what time she could. Perhaps John Pendleton,
of them all, however, was the most dissatisfied.

One Saturday afternoon he spoke to her about it.

"See here, Pollyanna, how would you like to come and live with me?" he
asked, a little impatiently. "I don't see anything of you, nowadays."

Pollyanna laughed--Mr. Pendleton was such a funny man!

"I thought you didn't like to have folks 'round," she said.

He made a wry face.

"Oh, but that was before you taught me to play that wonderful game of
yours. Now I'm glad to be waited on, hand and foot! Never mind, I'll
be on my own two feet yet, one of these days; then I'll see who steps
around," he finished, picking up one of the crutches at his side and
shaking it playfully at the little girl. They were sitting in the great
library to-day.

"Oh, but you aren't really glad at all for things; you just SAY you
are," pouted Pollyanna, her eyes on the dog, dozing before the fire.
"You know you don't play the game right EVER, Mr. Pendleton--you know
you don't!"

The man's face grew suddenly very grave.

"That's why I want you, little girl--to help me play it. Will you come?"

Pollyanna turned in surprise.

"Mr. Pendleton, you don't really mean--that?"

"But I do. I want you. Will you come?"

Pollyanna looked distressed.

"Why, Mr. Pend