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
âI know; itâs the âgameââ âbless her sweet heart!â nodded Old Tom, blinking a little.
âShe told you, then, too, about that âereâ âgame?â
âOh, yes. She told me long ago.â The old man hesitated, then went on, his lips twitching a little. âI was growlinâ one day âcause I was so bent up and crooked; anâ what do ye sâpose the little thing said?â
âI couldnât guess. I wouldnât think she could find anythinâ about that ter be glad about!â
âShe did. She said I could be glad, anyhow, that I didnât have ter stoop so far ter do my weedinâ âcause I was already bent part way over.â
Nancy gave a wistful laugh.
âWell, I ainât surprised, after all. You might know sheâd find somethinâ. Weâve been playinâ itâ âthat gameâ âsince almost the first, âcause there waânât no one else she could play it withâ âthough she did speak ofâ âher aunt.â
âMiss Polly!â
Nancy chuckled.
âI guess you hainât got such an awful diffârent opinion oâ the mistress than I have,â she bridled.
Old Tom stiffened.
âI was only thinkinâ âtwould beâ âsome of a surpriseâ âto her,â he explained with dignity.
âWell, yes, I guess âtwould beâ âthen,â retorted Nancy. âI ainât sayinâ what âtwould be now. Iâd believe anythinâ oâ the mistress nowâ âeven that sheâd take ter playinâ it herself!â
âBut hainât the little gal told herâ âever? Sheâs told evâry one else, I guess. Iâm hearinâ of it evârywhere, now, since she was hurted,â said Tom.
âWell, she didnât tell Miss Polly,â rejoined Nancy. âMiss Pollyanna told me long ago that she couldnât tell her, âcause her aunt didnât like ter have her talk about her father; anâ âtwas her fatherâs game, anâ sheâd have ter talk about him if she did tell it. So she never told her.â
âOh, I see, I see.â The old man nodded his head slowly. âThey was always bitter against the minister chapâ âall of âem, âcause he took Miss Jennie away from âem. Anâ Miss Pollyâ âyoung as she wasâ âcouldnât never forgive him; she was that fond of Miss Jennieâ âin them days. I see, I see. âTwas a bad mess,â he sighed, as he turned away.
âYes, âtwasâ âall âround, all âround,â sighed Nancy in her turn, as she went back to her kitchen.
For no one were those days of waiting easy. The nurse tried to look cheerful, but her eyes were troubled. The doctor was openly nervous and impatient. Miss Polly said little; but even the softening waves of hair about her face, and the becoming laces at her throat, could not hide the fact that she was growing thin and pale. As to Pollyannaâ âPollyanna petted the dog, smoothed the catâs sleek head, admired the flowers and ate the fruits and jellies that were sent in to her; and returned innumerable cheery answers to the many messages of love and inquiry that were brought to her bedside. But she, too, grew pale and thin; and the nervous activity of the poor little hands and arms only emphasized the pitiful motionlessness of the once active little feet and legs now lying so woefully quiet under the blankets.
As to the gameâ âPollyanna told Nancy these days how glad she was going to be when she could go to school again, go to see Mrs. Snow, go to call on Mr. Pendleton, and go to ride with Dr. Chilton nor did she seem to realize that all this âgladnessâ was in the future, not the present. Nancy, however, did realize itâ âand cry about it, when she was alone.
XXVI A Door AjarJust a week from the time Dr. Mead, the specialist, was first expected, he came. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with kind gray eyes, and a cheerful smile. Pollyanna liked him at once, and told him so.
âYou look quite a lot like my doctor, you see,â she added engagingly.
âYour doctor?â Dr. Mead glanced in evident surprise at Dr. Warren, talking with the nurse a few feet away. Dr. Warren was a small, brown-eyed man with a pointed brown beard.
âOh, that isnât my doctor,â smiled Pollyanna, divining his thought. âDr. Warren is Aunt Pollyâs doctor. My doctor is Dr. Chilton.â
âOh-h!â said Dr. Mead, a little oddly, his eyes resting on Miss Polly, who, with a vivid blush, had turned hastily away.
âYes.â Pollyanna hesitated, then continued with her usual truthfulness. âYou see, I wanted Dr. Chilton all the time, but Aunt Polly wanted you. She said you knew more than Dr. Chilton, anyway aboutâ âabout broken legs like mine. And of course if you do, I can be glad for that. Do you?â
A swift something crossed the doctorâs face that Pollyanna could not quite translate.
âOnly time can tell that, little girl,â he said gently; then he turned a grave face toward Dr. Warren, who had just come to the bedside.
Everyone said afterward that it was the cat that did it. Certainly, if Fluffy had not poked an insistent paw and nose against Pollyannaâs unlatched door, the door would not have swung noiselessly open on its hinges until it stood perhaps a foot ajar; and if the door had not been open, Pollyanna would not have heard her auntâs words.
In the hall the two doctors, the nurse, and Miss Polly stood talking. In Pollyannaâs room Fluffy had just jumped to the bed with a little purring âmeowâ of joy when through the open door sounded clearly and sharply Aunt Pollyâs agonized exclamation.
âNot that! Doctor, not that! You donât meanâ âthe childâ âwill never walk again!â
It was all confusion then. First, from the bedroom came Pollyannaâs terrified âAunt Polly Aunt Polly!â Then Miss Polly, seeing the open door and realizing that her words had been heard, gave a low little moan andâ âfor the first time in her lifeâ âfainted dead away.
The nurse, with a choking âShe heard!â stumbled toward the open door. The two doctors stayed with Miss Polly. Dr. Mead had to stayâ âhe had caught Miss Polly as she
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