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
Nancy laughed.
âWell, itâs this,â she explained. âI heard somethinâ that made me think him anâ Miss Polly was lovers.â
âMr. Pendleton!â Old Tom straightened up.
âYes. Oh, I know now; he wasnât. It was that blessed childâs mother he was in love with, and thatâs why he wantedâ âbut never mind that part,â she added hastily, remembering just in time her promise to Pollyanna not to tell that Mr. Pendleton had wished her to come and live with him. âWell, Iâve been askinâ folks about him some, since, and Iâve found out that him anâ Miss Polly hainât been friends for years, anâ that sheâs been hatinâ him like pizen owinâ ter the silly gossip that coupled their names tergether when she was eighteen or twenty.â
âYes, I remember,â nodded Old Tom. âIt was three or four years after Miss Jennie give him the mitten and went off with the other chap. Miss Polly knew about it, of course, and was sorry for him. So she tried ter be nice to him. Maybe she overdid it a littleâ âshe hated that minister chap so who had took off her sister. At any rate, somebody begun ter make trouble. They said she was runninâ after him.â
âRunninâ after any manâ âher!â interjected Nancy.
âI know it; but they did,â declared Old Tom, âand of course no gal of any spunkâll stand that. Then about that time come her own lover anâ the trouble with him. After that she shut up like an oyster anâ wouldnât have nothinâ ter do with nobody fur a spell. Her heart jest seemed to turn bitter at the core.â
âYes, I know. Iâve heard about that now,â rejoined Nancy; âanâ thatâs why you could âaâ knocked me down with a feather when I see him at the doorâ âhim, what she hainât spoke to for years! But I let him in anâ went anâ told her.â
âWhat did she say?â Old Tom held his breath suspended.
âNothinââ âat first. She was so still I thought she hadnât heard; and I was jest goinâ ter say it over when she speaks up quiet like: âTell Mr. Pendleton I will be down at once.â Anâ I come anâ told him. Then I come out here anâ told you,â finished Nancy, casting another backward glance toward the house.
âHumph!â grunted Old Tom; and fell to work again.
In the ceremonious âparlorâ of the Harrington homestead, Mr. John Pendleton did not have to wait long before a swift step warned him of Miss Pollyâs coming. As he attempted to rise, she made a gesture of remonstrance. She did not offer her hand, however, and her face was coldly reserved.
âI called to ask forâ âPollyanna,â he began at once, a little brusquely.
âThank you. She is about the same,â said Miss Polly.
âAnd that isâ âwonât you tell me how she is?â His voice was not quite steady this time.
A quick spasm of pain crossed the womanâs face.
âI canât, I wish I could!â
âYou meanâ âyou donât know?â
âYes.â
âButâ âthe doctor?â
âDr. Warren himself seemsâ âat sea. He is in correspondence now with a New York specialist. They have arranged for a consultation at once.â
âButâ âbut what were her injuries that you do know?â
âA slight cut on the head, one or two bruises, andâ âand an injury to the spine which has seemed to causeâ âparalysis from the hips down.â
A low cry came from the man. There was a brief silence; then, huskily, he asked:
âAnd Pollyannaâ âhow does sheâ âtake it?â
âShe doesnât understandâ âat allâ âhow things really are. And I canât tell her.â
âBut she must knowâ âsomething!â
Miss Polly lifted her hand to the collar at her throat in the gesture that had become so common to her of late.
âOh, yes. She knows she canâtâ âmove; but she thinks her legs areâ âbroken. She says sheâs glad itâs broken legs like yours rather than âlifelong-invalidsâ like Mrs. Snowâs; because broken legs get well, and the otherâ âdoesnât. She talks like that all the time, until itâ âit seems as if I shouldâ âdie!â
Through the blur of tears in his own eyes, the man saw the drawn face opposite, twisted with emotion. Involuntarily his thoughts went back to what Pollyanna had said when he had made his final plea for her presence: âOh, I couldnât leave Aunt Pollyâ ânow!â
It was this thought that made him ask very gently, as soon as he could control his voice:
âI wonder if you know, Miss Harrington, how hard I tried to get Pollyanna to come and live with me.â
âWith you!â âPollyanna!â
The man winced a little at the tone of her voice; but his own voice was still impersonally cool when he spoke again.
âYes. I wanted to adopt herâ âlegally, you understand; making her my heir, of course.â
The woman in the opposite chair relaxed a little. It came to her, suddenly, what a brilliant future it would have meant for Pollyannaâ âthis adoption; and she wondered if Pollyanna were old enough and mercenary enoughâ âto be tempted by this manâs money and position.
âI am very fond of Pollyanna,â the man was continuing. âI am fond of her both for her own sake, and forâ âher motherâs. I stood ready to give Pollyanna the love that had been twenty-five years in storage.â
âLove.â Miss Polly remembered suddenly why she had taken this child in the first placeâ âand with the recollection came the remembrance of Pollyannaâs own words uttered that very morning: âI love to be called âdearâ by folks that belong to you!â And it was this love-hungry little girl that had been offered the stored-up affection of twenty-five years:â âand she was old enough to be tempted by love! With a sinking heart Miss Polly realized that. With a sinking heart, too, she realized something else: the dreariness of her own future now without Pollyanna.
âWell?â she said. And the man, recognizing the self-control that vibrated through the harshness of the tone, smiled sadly.
âShe would not come,â he answered.
âWhy?â
âShe would not leave you. She said you had been so good to her. She wanted to stay with youâ âand she said she thought you wanted her to stay,â he finished, as he pulled himself to his feet.
He did not look toward Miss Polly. He turned his face resolutely
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