Pollyanna Eleanor H. Porter (classic english novels txt) đ
- Author: Eleanor H. Porter
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In Pollyannaâs room, the nurse had found a purring gray cat on the bed vainly trying to attract the attention of a white-faced, wild-eyed little girl.
âMiss Hunt, please, I want Aunt Polly. I want her right away, quick, please!â
The nurse closed the door and came forward hurriedly. Her face was very pale.
âSheâ âshe canât come just this minute, dear. She willâ âa little later. What is it? Canât Iâ âget it?â
Pollyanna shook her head.
âBut I want to know what she saidâ âjust now. Did you hear her? I want Aunt Pollyâ âshe said something. I want her to tell me âtisnât trueâ ââtisnât true!â
The nurse tried to speak, but no words came. Something in her face sent an added terror to Pollyannaâs eyes.
âMiss Hunt, you did hear her! It is true! Oh, it isnât true! You donât mean I canât everâ âwalk again?â
âThere, there, dearâ âdonât, donât!â choked the nurse. âPerhaps he didnât know. Perhaps he was mistaken. Thereâs lots of things that could happen, you know.â
âBut Aunt Polly said he did know! She said he knew more than anybody else aboutâ âabout broken legs like mine!â
âYes, yes, I know, dear; but all doctors make mistakes sometimes. Justâ âjust donât think any more about it nowâ âplease donât, dear.â
Pollyanna flung out her arms wildly. âBut I canât help thinking about it,â she sobbed. âItâs all there is now to think about. Why, Miss Hunt, how am I going to school, or to see Mr. Pendleton, or Mrs. Snow, orâ âor anybody?â She caught her breath and sobbed wildly for a moment. Suddenly she stopped and looked up, a new terror in her eyes. âWhy, Miss Hunt, if I canât walk, how am I ever going to be glad forâ âanything?â
Miss Hunt did not know âthe game;â but she did know that her patient must be quieted, and that at once. In spite of her own perturbation and heartache, her hands had not been idle, and she stood now at the bedside with the quieting powder ready.
âThere, there, dear, just take this,â she soothed; âand by and by weâll be more rested, and weâll see what can be done then. Things arenât half as bad as they seem, dear, lots of times, you know.â
Obediently Pollyanna took the medicine, and sipped the water from the glass in Miss Huntâs hand.
âI know; that sounds like things father used to say,â faltered Pollyanna, blinking off the tears. âHe said there was always something about everything that might be worse; but I reckon heâd never just heard he couldnât ever walk again. I donât see how there can be anything about that, that could be worseâ âdo you?â
Miss Hunt did not reply. She could not trust herself to speak just then.
XXVII Two VisitsIt was Nancy who was sent to tell Mr. John Pendleton of Dr. Meadâs verdict. Miss Polly had remembered her promise to let him have direct information from the house. To go herself, or to write a letter, she felt to be almost equally out of the question. It occurred to her then to send Nancy.
There had been a time when Nancy would have rejoiced greatly at this extraordinary opportunity to see something of the House of Mystery and its master. But today her heart was too heavy to, rejoice at anything. She scarcely even looked about her at all, indeed, during the few minutes, she waited for Mr. John Pendleton to appear.
âIâm Nancy, sir,â she said respectfully, in response to the surprised questioning of his eyes, when he came into the room. âMiss Harrington sent me to tell you aboutâ âMiss Pollyanna.â
âWell?â
In spite of the curt terseness of the word, Nancy quite understood the anxiety that lay behind that short âwell?â
âIt ainât well, Mr. Pendleton,â she choked.
âYou donât meanâ ââ He paused, and she bowed her head miserably.
âYes, sir. He saysâ âshe canât walk againâ ânever.â
For a moment there was absolute silence in the room; then the man spoke, in a voice shaken with emotion.
âPoorâ âlittleâ âgirl! Poorâ âlittleâ âgirl!â
Nancy glanced at him, but dropped her eyes at once. She had not supposed that sour, cross, stern John Pendleton could look like that. In a moment he spoke again, still in the low, unsteady voice.
âIt seems cruelâ ânever to dance in the sunshine again! My little prism girl!â
There was another silence; then, abruptly, the man asked:
âShe herself doesnât know yetâ âof courseâ âdoes she?â
âBut she does, sir.â sobbed Nancy, âanâ thatâs what makes it all the harder. She found outâ âdrat that cat! I begs yer pardon,â apologized the girl, hurriedly. âItâs only that the cat pushed open the door anâ Miss Pollyanna overheard âem talkinâ. She found outâ âthat way.â
âPoorâ âlittleâ âgirl!â sighed the man again.
âYes, sir. Youâd say so, sir, if you could see her,â choked Nancy. âI hainât seen her but twice since she knew about it, anâ it done me up both times. Ye see itâs all so fresh anâ new to her, anâ she keeps thinkinâ all the time of new things she canât doâ ânow. It worries her, too, âcause she canât seem ter be gladâ âmaybe you donât know about her game, though,â broke off Nancy, apologetically.
âThe âglad gameâ?â asked the man. âOh, yes; she told me of that.â
âOh, she did! Well, I guess she has told it generally ter most folks. But ye see, now sheâ âshe canât play it herself, anâ it worries her. She says she canât think of a thingâ ânot a thing about this not walkinâ again, ter be glad about.â
âWell, why should she?â retorted the man, almost savagely.
Nancy shifted her feet uneasily.
âThatâs the way I felt, tooâ âtill I happened ter thinkâ âit would be easier if she could find somethinâ, ye know. So I tried toâ âto remind her.â
âTo remind her! Of what?â John Pendletonâs voice was still angrily impatient.
âOfâ âof how she told others ter play it Misâ Snow, and the rest, ye knowâ âand what she said
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