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

In the bedroom Pollyanna found a flushed-faced, angry-eyed woman plucking at the pins that held a lace shawl in place.

“Pollyanna, how could you?” moaned the woman. “To think of your rigging me up like this, and then letting me-BE SEEN!”

Pollyanna stopped in dismay.

“But you looked lovely-perfectly lovely, Aunt Polly; and-”

“‘Lovely’!” scorned the woman, flinging the shawl to one side and attacking her hair with shaking fingers.

“Oh, Aunt Polly, please, please let the hair stay!”

“Stay? Like this? As if I would!” And Miss Polly pulled the locks so tightly back that the last curl lay stretched dead at the ends of her fingers.

“O dear! And you did look so pretty,” almost sobbed Pollyanna, as she stumbled through the door.

Downstairs Pollyanna found the doctor waiting in his gig.

“I’ve prescribed you for a patient, and he’s sent me to get the prescription filled,” announced the doctor. “Will you go?”

“You mean-an errand-to the drugstore?” asked Pollyanna, a little uncertainly. “I used to go some-for the Ladies’ Aiders.”

The doctor shook his head with a smile.

“Not exactly. It’s Mr. John Pendleton. He would like to see you today, if you’ll be so good as to come. It’s stopped raining, so I drove down after you. Will you come? I’ll call for you and bring you back before six o’clock.”

“I’d love to!” exclaimed Pollyanna. “Let me ask Aunt Polly.”

In a few moments she returned, hat in hand, but with rather a sober face.

“Didn’t-your aunt want you to go?” asked the doctor, a little diffidently, as they drove away.

“Y-yes,” sighed Pollyanna. “She-she wanted me to go TOO much, I’m afraid.”

“Wanted you to go TOO MUCH!”

Pollyanna sighed again.

“Yes. I reckon she meant she didn’t want me there. You see, she said: ‘Yes, yes, run along, run along-do! I wish you’d gone before.’”

The doctor smiled-but with his lips only. His eyes were very grave. For some time he said nothing; then, a little hesitatingly, he asked:

“Wasn’t it-your aunt I saw with you a few minutes ago-in the window of the sun parlor?”

Pollyanna drew a long breath.

“Yes; that’s what’s the whole trouble, I suppose. You see I’d dressed her up in a perfectly lovely lace shawl I found upstairs, and I’d fixed her hair and put on a rose, and she looked so pretty. Didn’t YOU think she looked just lovely?”

For a moment the doctor did not answer. When he did speak his voice was so low Pollyanna could but just hear the words.

“Yes, Pollyanna, I–I thought she did look-just lovely.”

“Did you? I’m so glad! I’ll tell her,” nodded the little girl, contentedly.

To her surprise the doctor gave a sudden exclamation.

“Never! Pollyanna, I–I’m afraid I shall have to ask you not to tell her-that.”

“Why, Dr. Chilton! Why not? I should think you’d be glad-”

“But she might not be,” cut in the doctor.