One by one the short winter days came and went – but they were not short to Pollyanna. They were long, and sometimes full of pain.

Pollyanna saw people now, occasionally, and always there were the loving messages from those she could not see; and always they brought her something new to think about – and Pollyanna needed new things to think about.

John Pendleton told her what a fine boy Jimmy was getting to be, and how well he was doing. Jimmy told her what a first-rate home he had; and both said that it was all owing to her.

The winter passed, and spring came. There seemed every reason to believe, indeed, that Dr. Mead’s worst fears would be realized – that Pollyanna would never walk again.

One day Mr. John Pendleton, somewhat to his surprise, received one Saturday morning a call from Dr. Thomas Chilton.

“Pendleton,” began the doctor, abruptly, “I’ve come to you because you, better than anyone else in town, know something of my relations with Miss Polly Harrington.”

“Yes,” he said, trying to make his voice sound concerned enough for sympathy, and not eager enough for curiosity.

“Pendleton, I want to see that child. I want to make an examination. I MUST make an examination.”

“Well – can’t you?”

“CAN’T I! Pendleton, you know very well I haven’t been inside that door for more than fifteen years. The mistress of that house told me that the NEXT time she ASKED me to enter it, I might take it that she was begging my pardon, and that all would be as before – which meant that she’d marry me. Perhaps you see her summoning me now – but I don’t!”

“But couldn’t you go – without a summons?”

The doctor frowned.

“Well, hardly. I have some pride, you know.”

“But if you’re so anxious – couldn’t you swallow your pride and forget the quarrel – ”

“Forget the quarrel!” interrupted the doctor. “I’m not talking of that kind of pride. It’s PROFESSIONAL pride I’m talking about. It’s a case of sickness, and I’m a doctor.”

“Chilton, what was the quarrel?” demanded Pendleton.

“What was it? A silly wrangle over the size of the moon or the depth of a river! Never mind the quarrel! So far as I am concerned, I am willing to say there was no quarrel. Pendleton, I must see that child. It may mean life or death. It will mean – I honestly believe – nine chances out of ten that Pollyanna Whittier will walk again!”

The words were spoken clearly and impressively. Thus it happened that very distinctly they reached the ears of Jimmy Bean who was pulling up the first little green weeds of the flowerbeds near the window.

“Walk! Pollyanna!” John Pendleton was saying. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that from what I can hear and learn – that her case is very much like one that a college friend of mine has just helped. But I want to SEE the girl!”

John Pendleton came erect in his chair.

“You must see her, man! Couldn’t you – say, through Dr. Warren?”

The other shook his head.

“I’m afraid not. He told me himself that he suggested consultation with me at the first, but – Miss Harrington said no. But, Pendleton, I must see that child! But how can I – without a direct request from her aunt? – which I’ll never get!”

“She must be made to ask you!”

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

“No, I guess you don’t – nor anybody else. She’s too proud and too angry to ask me”

“But if she could be made to see – to understand,” urged John Pendleton.

“Yes; and who’s going to do it?” demanded the doctor.

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” groaned the other.

Outside the window Jimmy Bean whispered:

“Well, I know! I’m going to do it!” And he rose to his feet and ran with all his might down Pendleton Hill.