Pollyanna Grows Up Eleanor H. Porter (booksvooks .TXT) đ
- Author: Eleanor H. Porter
Book online «Pollyanna Grows Up Eleanor H. Porter (booksvooks .TXT) đ». Author Eleanor H. Porter
And Mrs. Carew, who would not have believed such a thing possible, heard herself murmuring a faint âyes,â which, she knew, bound her to the giving of a Christmas-tree party on New Yearâs Eve to a dozen children from Murphyâs Alley and a young salesgirl whose name she did not know.
Perhaps in Mrs. Carewâs memory was still lingering a young girlâs âSometimes I wonder there donât some of âem think of helpinâ the girls before they go wrong.â Perhaps in her ears was still ringing Pollyannaâs story of that same girl who had found a crowd in a big city the loneliest place in the world, yet who had refused to go with the handsome man that had ânoticed too much.â Perhaps in Mrs. Carewâs heart was the undefined hope that somewhere in it all lay the peace she had so longed for. Perhaps it was a little of all three combined with utter helplessness in the face of Pollyannaâs amazing twisting of her irritated sarcasm into the wide-sweeping hospitality of a willing hostess. Whatever it was, the thing was done; and at once Mrs. Carew found herself caught into a veritable whirl of plans and plottings, the center of which was always Pollyanna and the party.
To her sister, Mrs. Carew wrote distractedly of the whole affair, closing with:
âWhat Iâm going to do I donât know; but I suppose I shall have to keep right on doing as I am doing. There is no other way. Of course, if Pollyanna once begins to preachâ âbut she hasnât yet; so I canât, with a clear conscience, send her back to you.â
Della, reading this letter at the Sanatorium, laughed aloud at the conclusion.
âââHasnât preached yet,â indeed!â she chuckled to herself. âBless her dear heart! And yet you, Ruth Carew, own up to giving two Christmas-tree parties within a week, and, as I happen to know, your home, which used to be shrouded in deathlike gloom, is aflame with scarlet and green from top to toe. But she hasnât preached yetâ âoh, no, she hasnât preached yet!â
The party was a great success. Even Mrs. Carew admitted that. Jamie, in his wheel chair, Jerry with his startling, but expressive vocabulary, and the girl (whose name proved to be Sadie Dean), vied with each other in amusing the more diffident guests. Sadie Dean, much to the othersâ surpriseâ âand perhaps to her ownâ âdisclosed an intimate knowledge of the most fascinating games; and these games, with Jamieâs stories and Jerryâs good-natured banter, kept everyone in gales of laughter until supper and the generous distribution of presents from the laden tree sent the happy guests home with tired sighs of content.
If Jamie (who with Jerry was the last to leave) looked about him a bit wistfully, no one apparently noticed it. Yet Mrs. Carew, when she bade him good night, said low in his ear, half impatiently, half embarrassedly:
âWell, Jamie, have you changed your mindâ âabout coming?â
The boy hesitated. A faint color stole into his cheeks. He turned and looked into her eyes wistfully, searchingly. Then very slowly he shook his head.
âIf it could always beâ âlike tonight, Iâ âcould,â he sighed. âBut it wouldnât. Thereâd be tomorrow, and next week, and next month, and next year cominâ; and Iâd know before next week that I hadnât oughter come.â
If Mrs. Carew had thought that the New Yearâs Eve party was to end the matter of Pollyannaâs efforts in behalf of Sadie Dean, she was soon undeceived; for the very next morning Pollyanna began to talk of her.
âAnd Iâm so glad I found her again,â she prattled contentedly. âEven if I havenât been able to find the real Jamie for you, Iâve found somebody else for you to loveâ âand of course youâll love to love her, âcause itâs just another way of loving Jamie.â
Mrs. Carew drew in her breath and gave a little gasp of exasperation. This unfailing faith in her goodness of heart, and unhesitating belief in her desire to âhelp everybodyâ was most disconcerting, and sometimes most annoying. At the same time it was a most difficult thing to disclaimâ âunder the circumstances, especially with Pollyannaâs happy, confident eyes full on her face.
âBut, Pollyanna,â she objected impotently, at last, feeling very much as if she were struggling against invisible silken cords, âIâ âyouâ âthis girl really isnât Jamie, at all, you know.â
âI know she isnât,â sympathized Pollyanna quickly. âAnd of course Iâm just as sorry she isnât Jamie as can be. But sheâs somebodyâs Jamieâ âthat is, I mean she hasnât got anybody down here to love her andâ âand notice, you know; and so whenever you remember Jamie I should think you couldnât be glad enough there was somebody you could help, just as youâd want folks to help Jamie, wherever he is.â
Mrs. Carew shivered and gave a little moan.
âBut I want my Jamie,â she grieved.
Pollyanna nodded with understanding eyes.
âI knowâ âthe âchildâs presence.â Mr. Pendleton told me about itâ âonly youâve got the âwomanâs hand.âââ
âââWomanâs handâ?â
âYesâ âto make a home, you know. He said that it took a womanâs hand or a childâs presence to make a home. That was when he wanted me, and I found him Jimmy, and he adopted him instead.â
âJimmy?â Mrs. Carew looked up with the startled something in her eyes that always came into them at the mention of any variant of that name.
âYes; Jimmy Bean.â
âOhâ âBean,â said Mrs. Carew, relaxing.
âYes. He was from an Orphanâs Home, and he ran away. I found him. He said he wanted another kind of a home with a mother in it instead of a Matron.
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