Pollyanna Eleanor H. Porter (classic english novels txt) đ
- Author: Eleanor H. Porter
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âOf course not! Iâm Aunt Pollyâs.â
The man turned now, almost fiercely.
âBefore you were hers, Pollyanna, you wereâ âyour motherâs. Andâ âit was your motherâs hand and heart that I wanted long years ago.â
âMy motherâs!â
âYes. I had not meant to tell you, but perhaps itâs better, after all, that I doâ ânow.â John Pendletonâs face had grown very white. He was speaking with evident difficulty. Pollyanna, her eyes wide and frightened, and her lips parted, was gazing at him fixedly. âI loved your mother; but sheâ âdidnât love me. And after a time she went away withâ âyour father. I did not know until then how much I didâ âcare. The whole world suddenly seemed to turn black under my fingers, andâ âBut, never mind. For long years I have been a cross, crabbed, unlovable, unloved old manâ âthough Iâm not nearly sixty, yet, Pollyanna. Then, One day, like one of the prisms that you love so well, little girl, you danced into my life, and flecked my dreary old world with dashes of the purple and gold and scarlet of your own bright cheeriness. I found out, after a time, who you were, andâ âand I thought then I never wanted to see you again. I didnât want to be reminded ofâ âyour mother. Butâ âyou know how that came out. I just had to have you come. And now I want you always. Pollyanna, wonât you come now?â
âBut, Mr. Pendleton, Iâ âThereâs Aunt Polly!â Pollyannaâs eyes were blurred with tears.
The man made an impatient gesture.
âWhat about me? How do you suppose Iâm going to be âgladâ about anythingâ âwithout you? Why, Pollyanna, itâs only since you came that Iâve been even half glad to live! But if I had you for my own little girl, Iâd be glad forâ âanything; and Iâd try to make you glad, too, my dear. You shouldnât have a wish ungratified. All my money, to the last cent, should go to make you happy.â
Pollyanna looked shocked.
âWhy, Mr. Pendleton, as if Iâd let you spend it on meâ âall that money youâve saved for the heathen!â
A dull red came to the manâs face. He started to speak, but Pollyanna was still talking.
âBesides, anybody with such a lot of money as you have doesnât need me to make you glad about things. Youâre making other folks so glad giving them things that you just canât help being glad yourself! Why, look at those prisms you gave Mrs. Snow and me, and the gold piece you gave Nancy on her birthday, andâ ââ
âYes, yesâ ânever mind about all that,â interrupted the man. His face was very, very red nowâ âand no wonder, perhaps: it was not for âgiving thingsâ that John Pendleton had been best known in the past. âThatâs all nonsense. âTwasnât much, anyhowâ âbut what there was, was because of you. You gave those things; not I! Yes, you did,â he repeated, in answer to the shocked denial in her face. âAnd that only goes to prove all the more how I need you, little girl,â he added, his voice softening into tender pleading once more. âIf ever, ever I am to play the âglad game,â Pollyanna, youâll have to come and play it with me.â
The little girlâs forehead puckered into a wistful frown.
âAunt Polly has been so good to me,â she began; but the man interrupted her sharply. The old irritability had come back to his face. Impatience which would brook no opposition had been a part of John Pendletonâs nature too long to yield very easily now to restraint.
âOf course sheâs been good to you! But she doesnât want you, Iâll warrant, half so much as I do,â he contested.
âWhy, Mr. Pendleton, sheâs glad, I know, to haveâ ââ
âGlad!â interrupted the man, thoroughly losing his patience now. âIâll wager Miss Polly doesnât know how to be gladâ âfor anything! Oh, she does her duty, I know. Sheâs a very dutiful woman. Iâve had experience with her âduty,â before. Iâll acknowledge we havenât been the best of friends for the last fifteen or twenty years. But I know her. Everyone knows herâ âand she isnât the âgladâ kind, Pollyanna. She doesnât know how to be. As for your coming to meâ âyou just ask her and see if she wonât let you come. And, oh, little girl, little girl, I want you so!â he finished brokenly.
Pollyanna rose to her feet with a long sigh.
âAll right. Iâll ask her,â she said wistfully. âOf course I donât mean that I wouldnât like to live here with you, Mr. Pendleton, butâ ââ She did not complete her sentence. There was a momentâs silence, then she added: âWell, anyhow, Iâm glad I didnât tell her yesterday;â ââcause then I supposed she was wanted, too.â
John Pendleton smiled grimly.
âWell, yes, Pollyanna; I guess it is just as well you didnât mention itâ âyesterday.â
âI didnâtâ âonly to the doctor; and of course he doesnât count.â
âThe doctor!â cried John Pendleton, turning quickly. âNotâ âDr.â âChilton?â
âYes; when he came to tell me you wanted to see me today, you know.â
âWell, of all theâ ââ muttered the man, falling back in his chair. Then he sat up with sudden interest. âAnd what did Dr. Chilton say?â he asked.
Pollyanna frowned thoughtfully.
âWhy, I donât remember. Not much, I reckon. Oh, he did say he could well imagine you did want to see me.â
âOh, did he, indeed!â answered John Pendleton. And Pollyanna wondered why he gave that sudden queer little laugh.
XXI A Question AnsweredThe sky was darkening fast with what appeared to be an approaching thunder shower when Pollyanna hurried down the hill from John Pendletonâs house. Halfway home she met Nancy with an umbrella. By that time, however, the clouds had shifted their position and the shower was not so imminent.
âGuess itâs goinâ âround ter the north,â announced Nancy, eyeing the sky critically. âI thought âtwas, all the time, but Miss Polly wanted me ter come with this. She was worried about ye!â
âWas she?â murmured Pollyanna abstractedly, eyeing the clouds in her turn.
Nancy sniffed a little.
âYou donât seem ter notice what I said,â she observed aggrievedly. âI said yer aunt was
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