Pollyanna was a little late for supper on the night of the accident to John Pendleton; but, as it happened, she escaped without .  
Nancy met her at the door.
 
“Well, if I ain't glad ter be settin' my two eyes on you,” she sighed in obvious relief. “It's half-past six!”
 
“I know it,” admitted Pollyanna anxiously; “but I'm not to blame—truly I'm not. And I don't think even Aunt Polly will say I am, either.”
 
“She won't have the chance,” retorted Nancy, with huge satisfaction. “She's gone.”
 
“Gone!” Pollyanna. “You don't mean that I've driven her away?” Through Pollyanna's mind at the moment trooped memories of the morning with its unwanted boy, cat, and dog, and its unwelcome “glad” and forbidden “father” that would spring to her forgetful little tongue. “Oh, I DIDN'T drive her away?”
 
“Not much you did,” Nancy. “Her cousin died suddenly down to Boston, and she had ter go. She had one o' them yeller telegram letters after you went away this afternoon, and she won't be back for three days. Now I guess we're glad all right. We'll be keepin' house tergether, jest you and me, all that time. We will, we will!”
 
Pollyanna looked shocked.
 
“Glad! Oh, Nancy, when it's a funeral?”
 
“Oh, but 'twa'n't the funeral I was glad for, Miss Pollyanna. It was—” Nancy stopped . A shrewd twinkle came into her eyes. “Why, Miss Pollyanna, as if it wa'n't yerself that was teachin' me ter play the game,” she reproached her gravely.
 
Pollyanna her forehead into a troubled frown.
 
“I can't help it, Nancy,” she argued with a shake of her head. “It must be that there are some things that 'tisn't right to play the game on—and I'm sure funerals is one of them. There's nothing in a funeral to be glad about.”
 
Nancy .
 
“We can be glad 'tain't our'n,” she observed . But Pollyanna did not hear. She had begun to tell of the accident; and in a moment Nancy, open-mouthed, was listening.
 
At the appointed place the next afternoon, Pollyanna met Jimmy Bean according to agreement. As was to be expected, of course, Jimmy showed keen disappointment that the Ladies' Aid preferred a little India boy to himself.
 
“Well, maybe 'tis natural,” he sighed. “Of course things you don't know about are always nicer'n things you do, same as the pertater on 'tother side of the plate is always the biggest. But I wish I looked that way ter somebody 'way off. Wouldn't it be jest great, now, if only somebody over in India wanted ME?”
 
Pollyanna clapped her hands.
 
“Why, of course! That's the very thing, Jimmy! I'll write to my Ladies' Aiders about you. They aren't over in India; they're only out West—but that's awful far away, just the same. I reckon you'd think so if you'd come all the way here as I did!”
 
Jimmy's face brightened.
 
“Do you think they would—truly—take me?” he asked.
 
“Of course they would! Don't they take little boys in India to bring up? Well, they can just play you are the little India boy this time. I reckon you're far enough away to make a report, all right. You wait. I'll write 'em. I'll write Mrs. White. No, I'll write Mrs. Jones. Mrs. White has got the most money, but Mrs. Jones gives the most—which is kind of funny, isn't it?—when you think of it. But I reckon some of the Aiders will take you.”
 
“All right—but don't furgit ter say I'll work fur my board an' keep,” put in Jimmy. “I ain't no beggar, an' biz'ness is biz'ness, even with Ladies' Aiders, I'm thinkin'.” He hesitated, then added: “An' I s'pose I better stay where I be fur a spell yet—till you hear.”
 
“Of course,” nodded Pollyanna emphatically. “Then I'll know just where to find you. And they'll take you—I'm sure you're far enough away for that. Didn't Aunt Polly take—Say!” she broke off, suddenly, “DO you suppose I was Aunt Polly's little girl from India?”
 
“Well, if you ain't the queerest kid,” grinned Jimmy, as he turned away.
 
It was about a week after the accident in Pendleton Woods that Pollyanna said to her aunt one morning:
 
“Aunt Polly, please would you mind very much if I took Mrs. Snow's calf's-foot jelly this week to some one else? I'm sure Mrs. Snow wouldn't—this once.”
 
“Dear me, Pollyanna, what ARE you up to now?” sighed her aunt. “You ARE the most extraordinary child!”
 
Pollyanna frowned a little anxiously.
 
“Aunt Polly, please, what is extraordinary? If you're EXtraor............