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Updated: May 6, 2025
It was a cheerless, gray December morning that John Wetherby came into his mother's room and found a sob-shaken little figure in the depths of the sumptuous, satin-damask chair. "Mother, mother, why, mother!" There were amazement and real distress in John Wetherby's voice. "There, there, John, I I didn't mean to truly I didn't!" quavered the little old lady.
Berry," said Dolly, controlling her sob-shaken voice, "I want to go out, all by myself, a little while. May I?" "Goodness, child, what do you mean? Where? I'll go with you." "No; I want to go alone. I have to think something out all by myself. Nobody can help me, and if I'm here, all the girls will butt in and bother me." "Where are you going? For a walk?" "No, please.
When Jimmy himself, radiant-faced and glowing-eyed, came at ten o'clock, he was met by a frightened, sob-shaken little Pollyanna that tried ineffectually to hold him back with two trembling hands. With whitening cheeks, but with defiantly tender arms that held her close, he demanded an explanation. "Pollyanna, dearest, what in the world is the meaning of this?"
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