He
longed--oh, how earnestly he longed!--to take now, in this
crisis, the right step. But was this--the right step?
Slowly the minister folded the papers and thrust them back into
his pocket. Then, with a sigh that was almost a moan, he flung
himself down at the foot of a tree, and covered his face with his
hands.
It was there that Pollyanna, on her way home from the Pendleton
house, found him. With a little cry she ran forward.
"Oh, oh, Mr. Ford! You--YOU haven't broken YOUR leg or--or
anything, have you?" she gasped.
The minister dropped his hands, and looked up quickly. He tried
to smile.
"No, dear--no, indeed! I'm just--resting."
"Oh," sighed Pollyanna, falling back a little. "That's all right,
then. You see, Mr. Pendleton HAD broken his leg when I found
him--but he was lying down, though. And you are sitting up."
"Yes, I am sitting up; and I haven't broken anything--that
doctors can mend."
The last words were very low, but Pollyanna heard them. A swift
change crossed her face.
Pages:
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229