About a week after Pollyanna’s visit to Mr. John Pendleton Miss Polly attended the Ladies’ Aid meeting. When she returned at three o’clock, her cheeks were pink, and her hair was fluffed into curls.

“Oh – oh – oh! Aunt Polly, you’ve got them, too,” she cried rapturously, dancing round and round her aunt, as that lady entered the sitting room.

“Pollyanna, what does all this mean?” demanded Aunt Polly.

“Oh, Aunt Polly!” I’m talking about those darling little black curls. Oh, Aunt Polly, they’re so pretty! May I do your hair?”

“Nonsense! What do you mean, Pollyanna, by going to the Ladies’ in that absurd fashion? When the ladies told me this afternoon how you came to them, I was so ashamed! I – ”

Pollyanna began to dance up and down lightly on her toes.

“Wait just where you are. I’ll get a comb.”

“But Pollyanna, Pollyanna,” remonstrated Aunt Polly, following the little girl from the room and upstairs after her.

“Oh, did you come up here?” Pollyanna greeted her at the door of Miss Polly’s own room. “I’ve got the comb. Now sit down, please, right here. Oh, I’m so glad you let me do it!”

“But, Pollyanna, I–I – ”

“Oh, what pretty hair you’ve got,” prattled Pollyanna. Aunt Polly, I’ll make you so pretty everybody’ll just love to look at you!”

“Pollyanna! I–I’m sure I don’t know why I’m letting you do this silly thing.”

“Why, Aunt Polly, don’t you like to look at pretty things?”

“But – but – ”

“And I just love to do hair!” purred Pollyanna, contentedly. “Oh, Aunt Polly, now your hair is almost done, and I need to leave you for just a minute; and you must promise – promise – PROMISE not to stir nor peek till I come back. Now remember!” she finished, as she ran from the room.

Aloud Miss Polly said nothing. But at that moment – unaccountably – Miss Polly caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror of the dressing table. And she saw her face – not young, it is true, but the cheeks were a pretty pink, the eyes sparkled. The hair, dark, and still damp from the outdoor air, lay in loose waves.

Miss Polly was amazed and absorbed with what she saw. Then Pollyanna entered the room again. She chuckled.

With trembling fingers she draped about her aunt’s shoulders a beautiful lace shawl.

Promptly, therefore, she pulled her aunt toward the sun parlor and thrusted a red rose into the soft hair above Miss Polly’s left ear.

For one moment Miss Polly stood still but then she gave a low cry and fled to her room. Pollyanna, following the direction of her aunt’s last gaze, saw, through the open windows of the sun parlor Dr. Chilton.

“Dr. Chilton, Dr. Chilton! Did you want to see me?”

“Yes,” smiled the doctor, a little gravely. “Will you come down, please?”

In the bedroom Pollyanna found a flushed-faced, angry-eyed aunt Polly.

“Pollyanna, how could you?” moaned the woman. “To think of your rigging me up like this, and then letting me – BE SEEN!”

Pollyanna stopped in dismay.

“But you looked lovely – perfectly lovely, Aunt Polly; and – ”

Downstairs Pollyanna found the doctor.

He smiled.

“Mr. John Pendleton wants to see you today. It’s stopped raining, so I drove down after you. Will you come? I can bring you back before six o’clock.”

“I’ll be glad!” exclaimed Pollyanna. “Let me ask Aunt Polly.”

In a few moments she returned, hat in hand, but with rather a sober face.

The doctor a little hesitatingly, asked:

“Wasn’t it your aunt I saw with you a few minutes ago – in the window of the sun parlor?”

“Yes, I dressed her up in a perfectly lovely lace shawl and I fixed her hair and put on a rose, and she looked so pretty. Didn’t YOU think she looked just lovely?”

“Yes, Pollyanna, I–I thought she did look – just lovely.”

“I’m so glad! I’ll tell her,” nodded the little girl.

“Never! Pollyanna, please don’t tell her – that.”

“Why, Dr. Chilton! Why not? I should think you’d be glad – ”

The doctor said nothing. He did not speak again until they reached the great stone house in which John Pendleton lay with a broken leg.