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
âYes; well, never mind now what your father said,â interrupted Miss Polly, crisply. âYou had a trunk, I presume?â
âOh, yes, indeed, Aunt Polly. Iâve got a beautiful trunk that the Ladiesâ Aid gave me. I havenât got so very much in itâ âof my own, I mean. The barrels havenât had many clothes for little girls in them lately; but there were all fatherâs books, and Mrs. White said she thought I ought to have those. You see, fatherâ ââ
âPollyanna,â interrupted her aunt again, sharply, âthere is one thing that might just as well be understood right away at once; and that is, I do not care to have you keep talking of your father to me.â
The little girl drew in her breath tremulously.
âWhy, Aunt Polly, youâ âyou meanâ ââ She hesitated, and her aunt filled the pause.
âWe will go upstairs to your room. Your trunk is already there, I presume. I told Timothy to take it upâ âif you had one. You may follow me, Pollyanna.â
Without speaking, Pollyanna turned and followed her aunt from the room. Her eyes were brimming with tears, but her chin was bravely high.
âAfter all, Iâ âI reckon Iâm glad she doesnât want me to talk about father,â Pollyanna was thinking. âItâll be easier, maybeâ âif I donât talk about him. Probably, anyhow, that is why she told me not to talk about him.â And Pollyanna, convinced anew of her auntâs âkindness,â blinked off the tears and looked eagerly about her.
She was on the stairway now. Just ahead, her auntâs black silk skirt rustled luxuriously. Behind her an open door allowed a glimpse of soft-tinted rugs and satin-covered chairs. Beneath her feet a marvellous carpet was like green moss to the tread. On every side the gilt of picture frames or the glint of sunlight through the filmy mesh of lace curtains flashed in her eyes.
âOh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly,â breathed the little girl, rapturously; âwhat a perfectly lovely, lovely house! How awfully glad you must be youâre so rich!â
âPollyanna!â ejaculated her aunt, turning sharply about as she reached the head of the stairs. âIâm surprised at youâ âmaking a speech like that to me!â
âWhy, Aunt Polly, arenât you?â queried Pollyanna, in frank wonder.
âCertainly not, Pollyanna. I hope I could not so far forget myself as to be sinfully proud of any gift the Lord has seen fit to bestow upon me,â declared the lady; âcertainly not, of riches!â
Miss Polly turned and walked down the hall toward the attic stairway door. She was glad, now, that she had put the child in the attic room. Her idea at first had been to get her niece as far away as possible from herself, and at the same time place her where her childish heedlessness would not destroy valuable furnishings. Nowâ âwith this evident strain of vanity showing thus earlyâ âit was all the more fortunate that the room planned for her was plain and sensible, thought Miss Polly.
Eagerly Pollyannaâs small feet pattered behind her aunt. Still more eagerly her big blue eyes tried to look in all directions at once, that no thing of beauty or interest in this wonderful house might be passed unseen. Most eagerly of all her mind turned to the wondrously exciting problem about to be solved: behind which of all these fascinating doors was waiting now her roomâ âthe dear, beautiful room full of curtains, rugs, and pictures, that was to be her very own? Then, abruptly, her aunt opened a door and ascended another stairway.
There was little to be seen here. A bare wall rose on either side. At the top of the stairs, wide reaches of shadowy space led to far corners where the roof came almost down to the floor, and where were stacked innumerable trunks and boxes. It was hot and stifling, too. Unconsciously Pollyanna lifted her head higherâ âit seemed so hard to breathe. Then she saw that her aunt had thrown open a door at the right.
âThere, Pollyanna, here is your room, and your trunk is here, I see. Have you your key?â
Pollyanna nodded dumbly. Her eyes were a little wide and frightened.
Her aunt frowned.
âWhen I ask a question, Pollyanna, I prefer that you should answer aloud not merely with your head.â
âYes, Aunt Polly.â
âThank you; that is better. I believe you have everything that you need here,â she added, glancing at the well-filled towel rack and water pitcher. âI will send Nancy up to help you unpack. Supper is at six oâclock,â she finished, as she left the room and swept downstairs.
For a moment after she had gone Pollyanna stood quite still, looking after her. Then she turned her wide eyes to the bare wall, the bare floor, the bare windows. She turned them last to the little trunk that had stood not so long before in her own little room in the faraway Western home. The next moment she stumbled blindly toward it and fell on her knees at its side, covering her face with her hands.
Nancy found her there when she came up a few minutes later.
âThere, there, you poor lamb,â she crooned, dropping to the floor and drawing the little girl into her arms. âI was just a-fearin! Iâd find you like this, like this.â
Pollyanna shook her head.
âBut Iâm bad and wicked, Nancyâ âawful wicked,â she sobbed. âI just canât make myself understand that God and the angels needed my father more than I did.â
âNo more they did, neither,â declared Nancy, stoutly.
âOh-h!â âNancy!â The burning horror in Pollyannaâs eyes dried the tears.
Nancy gave a shamefaced smile and rubbed her own eyes vigorously.
âThere, there, child, I didnât mean it, of course,â she cried briskly. âCome, letâs have your key and weâll get inside this trunk and take out your dresses in no time, no time.â
Somewhat tearfully Pollyanna produced the key.
âThere arenât very many there, anyway,â she faltered.
âThen theyâre all the sooner unpacked,â declared Nancy.
Pollyanna gave a sudden radiant smile.
âThatâs so! I can be glad
Comments (0)