Jimmy's arms dropped suddenly. He stepped back a little. The color drained from his face.
"Is—that—it?" he asked.
"Yes." Pollyanna came nearer, and touched his arm timidly. "Don't think— It isn't for me, Jimmy. I don't care. Besides, I know that your father and your people were all—all fine and noble, because you are so fine and noble. But she—Jimmy, don't look at me like that!"
But Jimmy, with a low moan had turned quite away from her. A minute later, with only a few choking words, which she could not understand, he had left the house.
From the Harrington homestead Jimmy went straight home and sought out John Pendleton. He found him in the great crimson-hung library where, some years before, Pollyanna had looked fearfully about for the "skeleton in John Pendleton's closet."
"Uncle John, do you remember that packet father gave me?" demanded Jimmy.
"Why, yes. What's the matter, son?" John Pendleton had given a start of surprise at sight of Jimmy's face.
"That packet has got to be opened, sir."
"But—the conditions!"
"I can't help it. It's got to be. That's all. Will you do it?"
"Why, y-yes, my boy, of course, if you insist; but—" he paused helplessly.
"Uncle John, as perhaps you have guessed, I love
