Pollyanna: The First Glad Book. Pollyanna Grows Up: The Second Glad Book / Поллианна. Поллианна вырастает

“Oh, Aunt Polly,” choked Pollyanna. “Why, I thought you’d be GLAD to have him here! I’m sure, I should think you’d be glad-”

Miss Polly raised her hand with a peremptory gesture of silence. Miss Polly’s nerves had snapped at last. The “good and kind” of the boy’s words were still ringing in her ears, and the old helplessness was almost upon her, she knew. Yet she rallied her forces with the last atom of her will power.

“Pollyanna,” she cried sharply, “WILL you stop using that everlasting word ‘glad’! It’s ‘glad’-’glad’-’glad’ from morning till night until I think I shall grow wild!”

From sheer amazement Pollyanna’s jaw dropped.

“Why, Aunt Polly,” she breathed, “I should think you’d be glad to have me gl-Oh!” she broke off, clapping her hand to her lips and hurrying blindly from the room.

Before the boy had reached the end of the driveway, Pollyanna overtook him.

“Boy! Boy! Jimmy Bean, I want you to know how-how sorry I am,” she panted, catching him with a detaining hand.

“Sorry nothin’! I ain’t blamin’ you,” retorted the boy, sullenly. “But I ain’t no beggar!” he added, with sudden spirit.

“Of course you aren’t! But you mustn’t blame auntie,” appealed Pollyanna. “Probably I didn’t do the introducing right, anyhow; and I reckon I didn’t tell her much who you were. She is good and kind, really-she’s always been; but I probably didn’t explain it right. I do wish I could find some place for you, though!”

The boy shrugged his shoulders and half turned away.

“Never mind. I guess I can find one myself. I ain’t no beggar, you know.”

Pollyanna was frowning thoughtfully. Of a sudden she turned, her face illumined.

“Say, I’ll tell you what I WILL do! The Ladies’ Aid meets this afternoon. I heard Aunt Polly say so. I’ll lay your case before them. That’s what father always did, when he wanted anything-educating the heathen and new carpets, you know.”

The boy turned fiercely.

“Well, I ain’t a heathen or a new carpet. Besides-what is a Ladies’ Aid?”

Pollyanna stared in shocked disapproval.

“Why, Jimmy Bean, wherever have you been brought up? – not to know what a Ladies’ Aid is!”

“Oh, all right-if you ain’t tellin’,” grunted the boy, turning and beginning to walk away indifferently.

Pollyanna sprang to his side at once.

“It’s-it’s-why, it’s just a lot of ladies that meet and sew and give suppers and raise money and-and talk; that’s what a Ladies’ Aid is. They’re awfully kind-that is, most of mine was, back home. I haven’t seen this one here, but they’re always good, I reckon. I’m going to tell them about you this afternoon.”

Again the boy turned fiercely.

“Not much you will! Maybe you think I’m goin’ ter stand ‘round an’ hear a whole LOT o’ women call me a beggar, instead of jest ONE! Not much!”

“Oh, but you wouldn’t be there,” argued Pollyanna, quickly. “I’d go alone, of course, and tell them.”

“You would?”

“Yes; and I’d tell it better this time,” hurried on Pollyanna, quick to see the signs of relenting in the boy’s face. “And there’d be some of ‘em, I know, that would be glad to give you a home.”

“I’d work-don’t forget ter say that,” cautioned the boy.

“Of course not,” promised Pollyanna, happily, sure now that her point was gained. “Then I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

“Where?”

“By the road-where I found you today; near Mrs. Snow’s house.”

“All right. I’ll be there.” The boy paused before he went on slowly: “Maybe I’d better go back, then, for ter-night, ter the Home. You see I hain’t no other place ter stay; and-and I didn’t leave till this mornin’. I slipped out. I didn’t tell ‘em I wasn’t comin’ back, else they’d pretend I couldn’t come-though I’m thinkin’ they won’t do no worryin’ when I don’t show up sometime. They ain’t like FOLKS, ye know. They don’t CARE!”

“I know,” nodded Pollyanna, with understanding eyes. “But I’m sure, when I see you tomorrow, I’ll have just a common home and folks that do care all ready for you. Good-by!” she called brightly, as she turned back toward the house.

In the sitting-room window at that moment, Miss Polly, who had been watching the two children, followed with sombre eyes the boy until a bend of the road hid him from sight. Then she sighed, turned, and walked listlesly upstairs-and Miss Polly did not usually move listlessly. In her ears still was the boy’s scornful “you was so good and kind.” In her heart was a curious sense of desolation-as of something lost.

Chapter XII

Before the ladies’ aid

Dinner, which came at noon in the Harrington homestead, was a silent meal on the day of the Ladies’ Aid meeting. Pollyanna, it is true, tried to talk; but she did not make a success of it, chiefly because four times she was obliged to break off a “glad” in the middle of it, much to her blushing discomfort. The fifth time it happened, Miss Polly moved her head wearily.

“There, there, child, say it, if you want to,” she sighed. “I’m sure I’d rather you did than not if it’s going to make all this fuss.”

Pollyanna’s puckered little face cleared.

“Oh, thank you. I’m afraid it would be pretty hard-not to say it. You see I’ve played it so long.”

“You’ve-what?” demanded Aunt Polly.

“Played it-the game, you know, that father-” Pollyanna stopped with a painful blush at finding herself so soon again on forbidden ground.

Aunt Polly frowned and said nothing. The rest of the meal was a silent one.

Pollyanna was not sorry to hear Aunt Polly tell the minister’s wife over the telephone, a little later, that she would not be at the Ladies’ Aid meeting that afternoon, owing to a headache. When Aunt Polly went upstairs to her room and closed the door, Pollyanna tried to be sorry for the headache; but she could not help feeling glad that her aunt was not to be present that afternoon when she laid the case of Jimmy Bean before the Ladies’ Aid. She could not forget that Aunt Polly had called Jimmy Bean a little beggar; and she did not want Aunt Polly to call him that-before the Ladies’ Aid.

Pollyanna knew that the Ladies’ Aid met at two o’clock in the chapel next the church, not quite half a mile from home. She planned her going, therefore, so that she should get there a little before three.

“I want them all to be there,” she said to herself; “else the very one that wasn’t there might be the one who would be wanting to give Jimmy Bean a home; and, of course, two o’clock always means three, really-to Ladies’ Aiders.”

Quietly, but with confident courage, Pollyanna ascended the chapel steps, pushed open the door and entered the vestibule. A soft babel of feminine chatter and laughter came from the main room. Hesitating only a brief moment Pollyanna pushed open one of the inner doors.

The chatter dropped to a surprised hush. Pollyanna advanced a little timidly. Now that the time had come, she felt unwontedly shy. After all, these half-strange, half-familiar faces about her were not her own dear Ladies’ Aid.

“How do you do, Ladies’ Aiders?” she faltered politely. “I’m Pollyanna Whittier. I–I reckon some of you know me, maybe; anyway, I do YOU-only I don’t know you all together this way.”

The silence could almost be felt now. Some of the ladies did know this rather extraordinary niece of their fellow-member, and nearly all had heard of her; but not one of them could think of anything to say, just then.

“I–I’ve come to-to lay the case before you,” stammered Pollyanna, after a moment, unconsciously falling into her father’s familiar phraseology.

There was a slight rustle.