Pollyanna Eleanor H. Porter (classic english novels txt) đ
- Author: Eleanor H. Porter
Book online «Pollyanna Eleanor H. Porter (classic english novels txt) đ». Author Eleanor H. Porter
âNoâ âI didnât tell any one, Pollyanna,â replied the doctor, a little queerly.
âOh, thatâs all right, then,â sighed Pollyanna in relief. âYou see youâre the only one I told, and I thought Mr. Pendleton looked sort of funny when I said Iâd told you.â
âDid he?â The doctorâs lips twitched.
âYes. And of course he wouldnât want many people to know itâ âwhen âtwasnât true. But why donât you get a womanâs hand and heart, Dr. Chilton?â
There was a momentâs silence; then very gravely the doctor said:
âTheyâre not always to be hadâ âfor the asking, little girl.â
Pollyanna frowned thoughtfully.
âBut I should think you could get âem,â she argued. The flattering emphasis was unmistakable.
âThank you,â laughed the doctor, with uplifted eyebrows. Then, gravely again: âIâm afraid some of your older sisters would not be quite soâ âconfident. At least, theyâ âthey havenât shown themselves to be soâ âobliging,â he observed.
Pollyanna frowned again. Then her eyes widened in surprise.
âWhy, Dr. Chilton, you donât meanâ âyou didnât try to get somebodyâs hand and heart once, like Mr. Pendleton, andâ âand couldnât, did you?â
The doctor got to his feet a little abruptly.
âThere, there, Pollyanna, never mind about that now. Donât let other peopleâs troubles worry your little head. Suppose you run back now to Mrs. Snow. Iâve written down the name of the medicine, and the directions how she is to take it. Was there anything else?â
Pollyanna shook her head.
âNo, Sir; thank you, Sir,â she murmured soberly, as she turned toward the door. From the little hallway she called back, her face suddenly alight: âAnyhow, Iâm glad âtwasnât my motherâs hand and heart that you wanted and couldnât get, Dr. Chilton. Goodbye!â
It was on the last day of October that the accident occurred. Pollyanna, hurrying home from school, crossed the road at an apparently safe distance in front of a swiftly approaching motor car.
Just what happened, no one could seem to tell afterward. Neither was there any one found who could tell why it happened or who was to blame that it did happen. Pollyanna, however, at five oâclock, was borne, limp and unconscious, into the little room that was so dear to her. There, by a white-faced Aunt Polly and a weeping Nancy she was undressed tenderly and put to bed, while from the village, hastily summoned by telephone, Dr. Warren was hurrying as fast as another motor car could bring him.
âAnd ye didnât need ter moreân look at her auntâs face,â Nancy was sobbing to Old Tom in the garden, after the doctor had arrived and was closeted in the hushed room; âye didnât need ter moreân look at her auntâs face ter see that âtwaânât no duty that was eatinâ her. Yer hands donât shake, and yer eyes donât look as if ye was tryinâ ter hold back the Angel oâ Death himself, when youâre jest doinâ yer duty, Mr. Tom they donât, they donât!â
âIs she hurtâ âbad?â The old manâs voice shook.
âThere ainât no tellinâ,â sobbed Nancy. âShe lay back that white anâ still she might easy be dead; but Miss Polly said she waânât deadâ âanâ Miss Polly had oughter know, if any one wouldâ âshe kept up such a listeninâ anâ a feelinâ for her heartbeats anâ her breath!â
âCouldnât ye tell anythinâ what it done to her?â âthatâ âthatâ ââ Old Tomâs face worked convulsively.
Nancyâs lips relaxed a little.
âI wish ye would call it somethinâ, Mr. Tom anâ somethinâ good anâ strong, too. Drat it! Ter think of its runninâ down our little girl! I always hated the evil-smellinâ things, anyhowâ âI did, I did!â
âBut where is she hurt?â
âI donât know, I donât know,â moaned Nancy. âThereâs a little cut on her blessed head, but âtainât badâ âthat ainâtâ âMiss Polly says. She says sheâs afraid itâs infernally sheâs hurt.â
A faint flicker came into Old Tomâs eyes.
âI guess you mean internally, Nancy,â he said dryly. âSheâs hurt infernally, all rightâ âplague take that autymobile!â âbut I donât guess Miss Pollyâd be usinâ that word, all the same.â
âEh? Well, I donât know, I donât know,â moaned Nancy, with a shake of her head as she turned away. âSeems as if I jest couldnât stand it till that doctor gits out oâ there. I wish I had a washinâ ter doâ âthe biggest washinâ I ever see, I do, I do!â she wailed, wringing her hands helplessly.
Even after the doctor was gone, however, there seemed to be little that Nancy could tell Mr. Tom. There appeared to be no bones broken, and the cut was of slight consequence; but the doctor had looked very grave, had shaken his head slowly, and had said that time alone could tell. After he had gone, Miss Polly had shown a face even whiter and more drawn looking than before. The patient had not fully recovered consciousness, but at present she seemed to be resting as comfortably as could be expected. A trained nurse had been sent for, and would come that night. That was all. And Nancy turned sobbingly, and went back to her kitchen.
It was sometime during the next forenoon that Pollyanna opened conscious eyes and realized where she was.
âWhy, Aunt Polly, whatâs the matter? Isnât it daytime? Why donât I get up?â she cried. âWhy, Aunt Polly, I canât get up,â she moaned, falling back on the pillow, after an ineffectual attempt to lift herself.
âNo, dear, I wouldnât tryâ âjust yet,â soothed her aunt quickly, but very quietly.
âBut what is the matter? Why canât I get up?â
Miss Pollyâs eyes asked an agonized question of the white-capped young woman standing in the window, out of the range of Pollyannaâs eyes.
The young woman nodded.
âTell her,â the lips said.
Miss Polly cleared her throat, and tried to swallow the lump that would scarcely let her speak.
âYou were hurt, dear, by the automobile last night. But never mind that now. Auntie wants you to rest and go to sleep again.â
âHurt? Oh,
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