Thoroughly mystified now, Miss Polly hurried up-stairs to
Pollyanna's room.
"Pollyanna, do you know a Mrs. Tarbell?"
"Oh, yes. I love Mrs. Tarbell. She's sick, and awfully sad; and
she's at the hotel, and takes long walks. We go together. I
mean--we used to." Pollyanna's voice broke, and two big tears
rolled down her cheeks.
Miss Polly cleared her throat hurriedly.
"We'll, she's just been here, dear. She left a message for
you--but she wouldn't tell me what it meant. She said to tell you
that Mrs. Tarbell is glad now."
Pollyanna clapped her hands softly.
"Did she say that--really? Oh, I'm so glad!"
"But, Pollyanna, what did she mean?"
"Why, it's the game, and--" Pollyanna stopped short, her fingers
to her lips.
"What game?"
"N-nothing much, Aunt Polly; that is--I can't tell it unless I
tell other things that--that I'm not to speak of."
It was on Miss Polly's tongue to question her niece further; but
the obvious distress on the little girl's face stayed the words
before they were uttered.
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