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
âNo, I hainât had no instructions ter do it; I hainât, I hainât,â Nancy explained to curious friends and neighbors who halted at the gate, or came more boldly up to the doorways. âMother Durginâs had the key, âcourse, and has come in regerler to air up and see that things was all right; and Misâ Chilton just wrote and said she and Miss Pollyanna was cominâ this week Friday, and ter please see that the rooms and sheets was aired, and ter leave the key under the side-door mat on that day.
âUnder the mat, indeed! Just as if Iâd leave them two poor things ter come into this house alone, and all forlorn like thatâ âand me only a mile away, a-sittinâ in my own parlor like as if I was a fine lady anâ hadnât no heart at all, at all! Just as if the poor things hadnât enough ter stand without thatâ âa-cominâ into this house anâ the doctor goneâ âbless his kind heart!â âanâ never cominâ back. Anâ no money, too. Did ye hear about that? Anâ ainât it a shame, a shame! Think of Miss Pollyâ âI mean, Misâ Chiltonâ âbeinâ poor! My stars and stockings, I canât sense itâ âI canât, I canât!â
Perhaps to no one did Nancy speak so interestedly as she did to a tall, good-looking young fellow with peculiarly frank eyes and a particularly winning smile, who cantered up to the side door on a mettlesome thoroughbred at ten oâclock that Thursday morning. At the same time, to no one did she talk with so much evident embarrassment, so far as the manner of address was concerned; for her tongue stumbled and blundered out a âMaster Jimmyâ âerâ âMr. Beanâ âI mean, Mr. Pendleton, Master Jimmy!â with a nervous precipitation that sent the young man himself into a merry peal of laughter.
âNever mind, Nancy! Let it go at whatever comes handiest,â he chuckled. âIâve found out what I wanted to know: Mrs. Chilton and her niece really are expected tomorrow.â
âYes, sir, they be, sir,â courtesied Nancy, ââ âmoreâs the pity! Not but that I shall be glad enough ter see âem, you understand, but itâs the way theyâre a-cominâ.â
âYes, I know. I understand,â nodded the youth, gravely, his eyes sweeping the fine old house before him. âWell, I suppose that part canât be helped. But Iâm glad youâre doingâ âjust what you are doing. That will help a whole lot,â he finished with a bright smile, as he wheeled about and rode rapidly down the driveway.
Back on the steps Nancy wagged her head wisely.
âI ainât surprised, Master Jimmy,â she declared aloud, her admiring eyes following the handsome figures of horse and man. âI ainât surprised that you ainât lettinâ no grass grow under your feet âbout inquirinâ for Miss Pollyanna. I said long ago âtwould come sometime, anâ itâs bound toâ âwhat with your growinâ so handsome and tall. Anâ I hope âtwill; I do, I do. Itâll be just like a book, what with her a-findinâ you anâ gettinâ you into that grand home with Mr. Pendleton. My, but whoâd ever take you now for that little Jimmy Bean that used to be! I never did see such a change in anybodyâ âI didnât, I didnât!â she answered, with one last look at the rapidly disappearing figures far down the road.
Something of the same thought must have been in the mind of John Pendleton some time later that same morning, for, from the veranda of his big gray house on Pendleton Hill, John Pendleton was watching the rapid approach of that same horse and rider; and in his eyes was an expression very like the one that had been in Mrs. Nancy Durginâs. On his lips, too, was an admiring âJove! what a handsome pair!â as the two dashed by on the way to the stable.
Five minutes later the youth came around the corner of the house and slowly ascended the veranda steps.
âWell, my boy, is it true? Are they coming?â asked the man, with visible eagerness.
âYes.â
âWhen?â
âTomorrow.â The young fellow dropped himself into a chair.
At the crisp terseness of the answer, John Pendleton frowned. He threw a quick look into the young manâs face. For a moment he hesitated; then, a little abruptly, he asked:
âWhy, son, whatâs the matter?â
âMatter? Nothing, sir.â
âNonsense! I know better. You left here an hour ago so eager to be off that wild horses could not have held you. Now you sit humped up in that chair and look as if wild horses couldnât drag you out of it. If I didnât know better Iâd think you werenât glad that our friends are coming.â
He paused, evidently for a reply. But he did not get it.
âWhy, Jim, arenât you glad theyâre coming?â
The young fellow laughed and stirred restlessly.
âWhy, yes, of course.â
âHumph! You act like it.â
The youth laughed again. A boyish red flamed into his face.
âWell, itâs only that I was thinkingâ âof Pollyanna.â
âPollyanna! Why, man alive, youâve done nothing but prattle of Pollyanna ever since you came home from Boston and found she was expected. I thought you were dying to see Pollyanna.â
The other leaned forward with curious intentness.
âThatâs exactly it! See? You said it a minute ago. Itâs just as if yesterday wild horses couldnât keep me from seeing Pollyanna; and now, today, when I know sheâs comingâ âthey couldnât drag me to see her.â
âWhy, Jim!â
At the shocked incredulity on John Pendletonâs face, the younger man fell back in his chair with an embarrassed laugh.
âYes, I know. It sounds nutty, and I donât expect I can make you understand. But, somehow, I donât thinkâ âI ever wanted Pollyanna to grow up. She was such a dear, just as she was. I like to think of her as I saw her last, her earnest, freckled little face, her yellow pigtails, her tearful: âOh, yes, Iâm glad Iâm going; but I think I shall be a little gladder when I come back.â Thatâs the last time I saw her. You know we were in Egypt that time she was here four years ago.â
âI know. I
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