Pollyanna was late for supper that night, but it didn't matter. While Pollyanna was out, Aunt Polly had received a telegram that her cousin had died.
"Your aunt left right away for the funeral in Boston," Nancy explained. "I guess we can be glad she'll be gone for three days."
"Oh, no, there are some things—like funerals—that you can't play the game with! Now let me tell you why I'm late."
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Soon Nancy was listening in amazement as Pollyanna described Mr. Pendleton's accident and how she'd helped him.
The next day Pollyanna met Jimmy by the side of the road. She explained to the disappointed boy that the Ladies' Aiders preferred to help overseas orphans.
He kicked a stone down the road. "Wouldn't it be great if somebody far away wanted me?"
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Pollyanna clapped her hands with glee. "I'll write to my Ladies' Aiders out West. They're so far away that maybe they'll want you!"
"Don't forget to say that I'll work," Jimmy reminded her.
About a week later, Pollyanna went into the sitting room to see Aunt Polly, who was back from Boston.
"Aunt Polly, would you mind if I took Mrs. Snow's beef stew to someone else this week?"
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Aunt Polly looked up from her knitting. "What are you up to now, Pollyanna?"
"Nothing you could possibly object to." Pollyanna came over and sat on the footstool near Aunt Polly's chair. "You let me take stew to her, so I thought you'd let me take it to him. You see, his broken leg will be a problem for only a few weeks. But Mrs. Snow is a lifelong invalid. There will be plenty of opportunities to take her stew every week."
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"Him? His broken leg? What on earth are you talking about?"
"It all happened while you were away." Pollyanna got a faraway look in her eyes as she recalled that day. "I found him in the woods and had to unlock his house and call the doctor. Of course, then I came home, and I haven't seen him since. But Nancy was making beef stew this morning. And I thought it would be nice to take it to him. May I, Aunt Polly?"
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"Yes, I suppose so." Aunt Polly sighed. She sometimes felt worn down by conversations with Pollyanna. "Who did you say he was?"
"Mr. John Pendleton."
Aunt Polly sprang from her chair. "John Pendleton!"
"Yes, Nancy told me his name. Maybe you know him?"
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Aunt Polly didn't answer but quietly sat down. "Do you know him?"
"Oh, yes. He always smiles and speaks to me now. He's only grumpy on the outside, you know." Pollyanna stood up. "I'll go and get the stew from Nancy."
Pollyanna was halfway across the room when Aunt Polly stopped her.
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"Wait! I've changed my mind." Aunt Polly's voice was suddenly stern. "I'd prefer that Mrs. Snow have that stew today as usual."
Pollyanna's disappointment was clear. "But I want to bring Mr. Pendleton the stew before he gets better. And he's already had a broken leg for a whole week."
"I do not want to send him stew." Aunt Polly shook her head to emphasize the "not."
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Pollyanna was not yet ready to give up. "I understand why you don't like him—he can be awfully grumpy sometimes. But how about this? I won't tell him that you sent the beef stew. I'd be glad to say it was from me."
Aunt Polly started to shake her head again but stopped. She asked in a curiously quiet voice, "Does he know who you are?"
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Pollyanna sighed. "I don't think so. I told him my name once, but he never uses it."
"Does he know where you live or that you're my niece?"
"Oh, no. I never told him those things."
For a moment there was silence as Aunt Polly stared blankly into space.
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Pollyanna waited impatiently, shifting from one foot to the other. At last Aunt Polly spoke.
"Very well, you may take the stew to Mr. Pendleton as your own gift. But let's be perfectly clear about one thing: I didn't send it. Don't let him think that I did!"
"Yes, ma'am. No, ma'am. Thank you, Aunt Polly!" Pollyanna exclaimed as she flew from the room.