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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/6100.txt b/6100.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ef987ca --- /dev/null +++ b/6100.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9750 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Pollyanna Grows Up, by Eleanor H. Porter + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Pollyanna Grows Up + +Author: Eleanor H. Porter + +Posting Date: October 26, 2012 [EBook #6100] +Release Date: July, 2004 +First Posted: November 6, 2002 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POLLYANNA GROWS UP *** + + + + +Produced by Paul Hollander, Juliet Sutherland, Charles +Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + + + + + +POLLYANNA GROWS UP + + +The Second Glad Book + Trade----Mark + + +By Eleanor H. Porter + +Author of "Pollyanna: The Glad Book." "Miss Billy," + Trade----Mark +"Miss Billy's Decision," "Miss Billy--Married," +"Cross Currents," "The Turn of the Tide," etc. + + +Illustrated by + +H. Weston Taylor + + + + +To My Cousin Walter + + + + +CONTENTS + +I. Della Speaks Her Mind +II. Some Old Friends +III. A Dose Of Pollyanna +IV. The Game And Mrs. Carew +V. Pollyanna Takes A Walk +VI. Jerry To The Rescue +VII. A New Acquaintance +VIII. Jamie +IX. Plans And Plottings +X. In Murphy's Alley +XI. A Surprise For Mrs. Carew +XII. From Behind A Counter +XIII. A Waiting And A Winning +XIV. Jimmy And The Green-Eyed Monster +XV. Aunt Polly Takes Alarm +XVI. When Pollyanna Was Expected +XVII. When Pollyanna Came +XVIII. A Matter Of Adjustment +XIX. Two Letters +XX. The Paying Guests +XXI. Summer Days +XXII. Comrades +XXIII. "Tied To Two Sticks" +XXIV. Jimmy Wakes Up +XXV. The Game And Pollyanna +XXVI. John Pendleton +XXVII. The Day Pollyanna Did Not Play +XXVIII. Jimmy And Jamie +XXIX. Jimmy And John +XXX. John Pendleton Turns The Key +XXXI. After Long Years +XXXII. A New Aladdin + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + +"Jimmy looked down at the wistful, eager face" +"'Oh, my! What a perfectly lovely automobile!'" +"Twice again, after short intervals, she trod the fascinating way" +"It was a wonderful hour" +"'I don't know her name yet, but I know HER, so it's all right'" +"'The instrument that you play on, Pollyanna, will be the great + heart of the world'" +"Involuntarily she turned as if to flee" +"'I'm glad, GLAD, _GLAD_ for--everything now!'" + + + + + +CHAPTER I + +DELLA SPEAKS HER MIND + + +Della Wetherby tripped up the somewhat imposing steps of her sister's +Commonwealth Avenue home and pressed an energetic finger against the +electric-bell button. From the tip of her wing-trimmed hat to the toe +of her low-heeled shoe she radiated health, capability, and alert +decision. Even her voice, as she greeted the maid that opened the +door, vibrated with the joy of living. + +"Good morning, Mary. Is my sister in?" + +"Y-yes, ma'am, Mrs. Carew is in," hesitated the girl; "but--she gave +orders she'd see no one." + +"Did she? Well, I'm no one," smiled Miss Wetherby, "so she'll see me. +Don't worry--I'll take the blame," she nodded, in answer to the +frightened remonstrance in the girl's eyes. "Where is she--in her +sitting-room?" + +"Y-yes, ma'am; but--that is, she said--" Miss Wetherby, however, was +already halfway up the broad stairway; and, with a despairing backward +glance, the maid turned away. + +In the hall above Della Wetherby unhesitatingly walked toward a +half-open door, and knocked. + +"Well, Mary," answered a "dear-me-what-now" voice. "Haven't I--Oh, +Della!" The voice grew suddenly warm with love and surprise. "You dear +girl, where did you come from?" + +"Yes, it's Della," smiled that young woman, blithely, already halfway +across the room. "I've come from an over-Sunday at the beach with two +of the other nurses, and I'm on my way back to the Sanatorium now. +That is, I'm here now, but I sha'n't be long. I stepped in for--this," +she finished, giving the owner of the "dear-me-what-now" voice a +hearty kiss. + +Mrs. Carew frowned and drew back a little coldly. The slight touch of +joy and animation that had come into her face fled, leaving only a +dispirited fretfulness that was plainly very much at home there. + +"Oh, of course! I might have known," she said. "You never stay--here." + +"Here!" Della Wetherby laughed merrily, and threw up her hands; then, +abruptly, her voice and manner changed. She regarded her sister with +grave, tender eyes. "Ruth, dear, I couldn't--I just couldn't live in +this house. You know I couldn't," she finished gently. + +Mrs. Carew stirred irritably. + +"I'm sure I don't see why not," she fenced. + +Della Wetherby shook her head. + +"Yes, you do, dear. You know I'm entirely out of sympathy with it all: +the gloom, the lack of aim, the insistence on misery and bitterness." + +"But I AM miserable and bitter." + +"You ought not to be." + +"Why not? What have I to make me otherwise?" + +Della Wetherby gave an impatient gesture. + +"Ruth, look here," she challenged. "You're thirty-three years old. You +have good health--or would have, if you treated yourself properly--and +you certainly have an abundance of time and a superabundance of money. +Surely anybody would say you ought to find SOMETHING to do this +glorious morning besides sitting moped up in this tomb-like house with +instructions to the maid that you'll see no one." + +"But I don't WANT to see anybody." + +"Then I'd MAKE myself want to." + +Mrs. Carew sighed wearily and turned away her head. + +"Oh, Della, why won't you ever understand? I'm not like you. I +can't--forget." + +A swift pain crossed the younger woman's face. + +"You mean--Jamie, I suppose. I don't forget--that, dear. I couldn't, +of course. But moping won't help us--find him." + +"As if I hadn't TRIED to find him, for eight long years--and by +something besides moping," flashed Mrs. Carew, indignantly, with a sob +in her voice. + +"Of course you have, dear," soothed the other, quickly; "and we shall +keep on hunting, both of us, till we do find him--or die. But THIS +sort of thing doesn't help." + +"But I don't want to do--anything else," murmured Ruth Carew, +drearily. + +For a moment there was silence. The younger woman sat regarding her +sister with troubled, disapproving eyes. + +"Ruth," she said, at last, with a touch of exasperation, "forgive me, +but--are you always going to be like this? You're widowed, I'll admit; +but your married life lasted only a year, and your husband was much +older than yourself. You were little more than a child at the time, +and that one short year can't seem much more than a dream now. Surely +that ought not to embitter your whole life!" + +"No, oh, no," murmured Mrs. Carew, still drearily. + +"Then ARE you going to be always like this?" + +"Well, of course, if I could find Jamie--" + +"Yes, yes, I know; but, Ruth, dear, isn't there anything in the world +but Jamie--to make you ANY happy?" + +"There doesn't seem to be, that I can think of," sighed Mrs. Carew, +indifferently. + +"Ruth!" ejaculated her sister, stung into something very like anger. +Then suddenly she laughed. "Oh, Ruth, Ruth, I'd like to give you a +dose of Pollyanna. I don't know any one who needs it more!" + +Mrs. Carew stiffened a little. + +"Well, what pollyanna may be I don't know, but whatever it is, I don't +want it," she retorted sharply, nettled in her turn. "This isn't your +beloved Sanatorium, and I'm not your patient to be dosed and bossed, +please remember." + +Della Wetherby's eyes danced, but her lips remained unsmiling. + +"Pollyanna isn't a medicine, my dear," she said demurely, "--though I +have heard some people call her a tonic. Pollyanna is a little girl." + +"A child? Well, how should I know," retorted the other, still +aggrievedly. "You have your 'belladonna,' so I'm sure I don't see why +not 'pollyanna.' Besides, you're always recommending something for me +to take, and you distinctly said 'dose'--and dose usually means +medicine, of a sort." + +"Well, Pollyanna IS a medicine--of a sort," smiled Della. "Anyway, the +Sanatorium doctors all declare that she's better than any medicine +they can give. She's a little girl, Ruth, twelve or thirteen years +old, who was at the Sanatorium all last summer and most of the winter. +I didn't see her but a month or two, for she left soon after I +arrived. But that was long enough for me to come fully under her +spell. Besides, the whole Sanatorium is still talking Pollyanna, and +playing her game." + +"GAME!" + +"Yes," nodded Della, with a curious smile. "Her 'glad game.' I'll +never forget my first introduction to it. One feature of her treatment +was particularly disagreeable and even painful. It came every Tuesday +morning, and very soon after my arrival it fell to my lot to give it +to her. I was dreading it, for I knew from past experience with other +children what to expect: fretfulness and tears, if nothing worse. To +my unbounded amazement she greeted me with a smile and said she was +glad to see me; and, if you'll believe it, there was never so much as +a whimper from her lips through the whole ordeal, though I knew I was +hurting her cruelly. + +"I fancy I must have said something that showed my surprise, for she +explained earnestly: 'Oh, yes, I used to feel that way, too, and I did +dread it so, till I happened to think 'twas just like Nancy's +wash-days, and I could be gladdest of all on TUESDAYS, 'cause there +wouldn't be another one for a whole week.'" + +"Why, how extraordinary!" frowned Mrs. Carew, not quite comprehending. +"But, I'm sure I don't see any GAME to that." + +"No, I didn't, till later. Then she told me. It seems she was the +motherless daughter of a poor minister in the West, and was brought up +by the Ladies' Aid Society and missionary barrels. When she was a tiny +girl she wanted a doll, and confidently expected it in the next +barrel; but there turned out to be nothing but a pair of little +crutches. + +"The child cried, of course, and it was then that her father taught +her the game of hunting for something to be glad about, in everything +that happened; and he said she could begin right then by being glad +she didn't NEED the crutches. That was the beginning. Pollyanna said +it was a lovely game, and she'd been playing it ever since; and that +the harder it was to find the glad part, the more fun it was, only +when it was too AWFUL hard, like she had found it sometimes." + +"Why, how extraordinary!" murmured Mrs. Carew, still not entirely +comprehending. + +"You'd think so--if you could see the results of that game in the +Sanatorium," nodded Della; "and Dr. Ames says he hears she's +revolutionized the whole town where she came from, just the same way. +He knows Dr. Chilton very well--the man that married Pollyanna's aunt. +And, by the way, I believe that marriage was one of her ministrations. +She patched up an old lovers' quarrel between them. + +"You see, two years ago, or more, Pollyanna's father died, and the +little girl was sent East to this aunt. In October she was hurt by an +automobile, and was told she could never walk again. In April Dr. +Chilton sent her to the Sanatorium, and she was there till last +March--almost a year. She went home practically cured. You should have +seen the child! There was just one cloud to mar her happiness: that +she couldn't WALK all the way there. As near as I can gather, the +whole town turned out to meet her with brass bands and banners. + +"But you can't TELL about Pollyanna. One has to SEE her. And that's +why I say I wish you could have a dose of Pollyanna. It would do you a +world of good." + +Mrs. Carew lifted her chin a little. + +"Really, indeed, I must say I beg to differ with you," she returned +coldly. "I don't care to be 'revolutionized,' and I have no lovers' +quarrel to be patched up; and if there is ANYTHING that would be +insufferable to me, it would be a little Miss Prim with a long face +preaching to me how much I had to be thankful for. I never could +bear--" But a ringing laugh interrupted her. + +"Oh, Ruth, Ruth," choked her sister, gleefully. "Miss Prim, +indeed--POLLYANNA! Oh, oh, if only you could see that child now! But +there, I might have known. I SAID one couldn't TELL about Pollyanna. +And of course you won't be apt to see her. But--Miss Prim, indeed!" +And off she went into another gale of laughter. Almost at once, +however, she sobered and gazed at her sister with the old troubled +look in her eyes. + +"Seriously, dear, can't anything be done?" she pleaded. "You ought not +to waste your life like this. Won't you try to get out a little more, +and--meet people?" + +"Why should I, when I don't want to? I'm tired of--people. You know +society always bored me." + +"Then why not try some sort of work--charity?" + +Mrs. Carew gave an impatient gesture. + +"Della, dear, we've been all over this before. I do give money--lots +of it, and that's enough. In fact, I'm not sure but it's too much. I +don't believe in pauperizing people." + +"But if you'd give a little of yourself, dear," ventured Della, +gently. "If you could only get interested in something outside of your +own life, it would help so much; and--" + +"Now, Della, dear," interrupted the elder sister, restively, "I love +you, and I love to have you come here; but I simply cannot endure +being preached to. It's all very well for you to turn yourself into an +angel of mercy and give cups of cold water, and bandage up broken +heads, and all that. Perhaps YOU can forget Jamie that way; but I +couldn't. It would only make me think of him all the more, wondering +if HE had any one to give him water and bandage up his head. Besides, +the whole thing would be very distasteful to me--mixing with all sorts +and kinds of people like that." + +"Did you ever try it?" + +"Why, no, of course not!" Mrs. Carew's voice was scornfully indignant. + +"Then how can you know--till you do try?" asked the young nurse, +rising to her feet a little wearily. "But I must go, dear. I'm to meet +the girls at the South Station. Our train goes at twelve-thirty. I'm +sorry if I've made you cross with me," she finished, as she kissed her +sister good-by. + +"I'm not cross with you, Della," sighed Mrs. Carew; "but if you only +would understand!" + +One minute later Della Wetherby made her way through the silent, +gloomy halls, and out to the street. Face, step, and manner were very +different from what they had been when she tripped up the steps less +than half an hour before. All the alertness, the springiness, the joy +of living were gone. For half a block she listlessly dragged one foot +after the other. Then, suddenly, she threw back her head and drew a +long breath. + +"One week in that house would kill me," she shuddered. "I don't +believe even Pollyanna herself could so much as make a dent in the +gloom! And the only thing she could be glad for there would be that +she didn't have to stay." + +That this avowed disbelief in Pollyanna's ability to bring about a +change for the better in Mrs. Carew's home was not Della Wetherby's +real opinion, however, was quickly proved; for no sooner had the nurse +reached the Sanatorium than she learned something that sent her flying +back over the fifty-mile journey to Boston the very next day. + +So exactly as before did she find circumstances at her sister's home +that it seemed almost as if Mrs. Carew had not moved since she left +her. + +"Ruth," she burst out eagerly, after answering her sister's surprised +greeting, "I just HAD to come, and you must, this once, yield to me +and let me have my way. Listen! You can have that little Pollyanna +here, I think, if you will." + +"But I won't," returned Mrs. Carew, with chilly promptness. + +Della Wetherby did not seem to have heard. She plunged on excitedly. + +"When I got back yesterday I found that Dr. Ames had had a letter from +Dr. Chilton, the one who married Pollyanna's aunt, you know. Well, it +seems in it he said he was going to Germany for the winter for a +special course, and was going to take his wife with him, if he could +persuade her that Pollyanna would be all right in some boarding school +here meantime. But Mrs. Chilton didn't want to leave Pollyanna in just +a school, and so he was afraid she wouldn't go. And now, Ruth, there's +our chance. I want YOU to take Pollyanna this winter, and let her go +to some school around here." + +"What an absurd idea, Della! As if I wanted a child here to bother +with!" + +"She won't bother a bit. She must be nearly or quite thirteen by this +time, and she's the most capable little thing you ever saw." + +"I don't like 'capable' children," retorted Mrs. Carew perversely--but +she laughed; and because she did laugh, her sister took sudden courage +and redoubled her efforts. + +Perhaps it was the suddenness of the appeal, or the novelty of it. +Perhaps it was because the story of Pollyanna had somehow touched Ruth +Carew's heart. Perhaps it was only her unwillingness to refuse her +sister's impassioned plea. Whatever it was that finally turned the +scale, when Della Wetherby took her hurried leave half an hour later, +she carried with her Ruth Carew's promise to receive Pollyanna into +her home. + +"But just remember," Mrs. Carew warned her at parting, "just remember +that the minute that child begins to preach to me and to tell me to +count my mercies, back she goes to you, and you may do what you please +with her. _I_ sha'n't keep her!" + +"I'll remember--but I'm not worrying any," nodded the younger woman, +in farewell. To herself she whispered, as she hurried away from the +house: "Half my job is done. Now for the other half--to get Pollyanna +to come. But she's just got to come. I'll write that letter so they +can't help letting her come!" + + + + +CHAPTER II + +SOME OLD FRIENDS + + +In Beldingsville that August day, Mrs. Chilton waited until Pollyanna +had gone to bed before she spoke to her husband about the letter that +had come in the morning mail. For that matter, she would have had to +wait, anyway, for crowded office hours, and the doctor's two long +drives over the hills had left no time for domestic conferences. + +It was about half-past nine, indeed, when the doctor entered his +wife's sitting-room. His tired face lighted at sight of her, but at +once a perplexed questioning came to his eyes. + +"Why, Polly, dear, what is it?" he asked concernedly. + +His wife gave a rueful laugh. + +"Well, it's a letter--though I didn't mean you should find out by just +looking at me." + +"Then you mustn't look so I can," he smiled. "But what is it?" + +Mrs. Chilton hesitated, pursed her lips, then picked up a letter near +her. + +"I'll read it to you," she said. "It's from a Miss Della Wetherby at +Dr. Ames' Sanatorium." + +"All right. Fire away," directed the man, throwing himself at full +length on to the couch near his wife's chair. + +But his wife did not at once "fire away." She got up first and covered +her husband's recumbent figure with a gray worsted afghan. Mrs. +Chilton's wedding day was but a year behind her. She was forty-two +now. It seemed sometimes as if into that one short year of wifehood +she had tried to crowd all the loving service and "babying" that had +been accumulating through twenty years of lovelessness and loneliness. +Nor did the doctor--who had been forty-five on his wedding day, and +who could remember nothing but loneliness and lovelessness--on his +part object in the least to this concentrated "tending." He acted, +indeed, as if he quite enjoyed it--though he was careful not to show +it too ardently: he had discovered that Mrs. Polly had for so long +been Miss Polly that she was inclined to retreat in a panic and dub +her ministrations "silly," if they were received with too much notice +and eagerness. So he contented himself now with a mere pat of her hand +as she gave the afghan a final smooth, and settled herself to read the +letter aloud. + +"My dear Mrs. Chilton," Della Wetherby had written. "Just six times I +have commenced a letter to you, and torn it up; so now I have decided +not to 'commence' at all, but just to tell you what I want at once. I +want Pollyanna. May I have her? + +"I met you and your husband last March when you came on to take +Pollyanna home, but I presume you don't remember me. I am asking Dr. +Ames (who does know me very well) to write your husband, so that you +may (I hope) not fear to trust your dear little niece to us. + +"I understand that you would go to Germany with your husband but for +leaving Pollyanna; and so I am making so bold as to ask you to let us +take her. Indeed, I am begging you to let us have her, dear Mrs. +Chilton. And now let me tell you why. + +"My sister, Mrs. Carew, is a lonely, broken-hearted, discontented, +unhappy woman. She lives in a world of gloom, into which no sunshine +penetrates. Now I believe that if anything on earth can bring the +sunshine into her life, it is your niece, Pollyanna. Won't you let her +try? I wish I could tell you what she has done for the Sanatorium +here, but nobody could TELL. You would have to see it. I long ago +discovered that you can't TELL about Pollyanna. The minute you try to, +she sounds priggish and preachy, and--impossible. Yet you and I know +she is anything but that. You just have to bring Pollyanna on to the +scene and let her speak for herself. And so I want to take her to my +sister--and let her speak for herself. She would attend school, of +course, but meanwhile I truly believe she would be healing the wound +in my sister's heart. + +"I don't know how to end this letter. I believe it's harder than it +was to begin it. I'm afraid I don't want to end it at all. I just want +to keep talking and talking, for fear, if I stop, it'll give you a +chance to say no. And so, if you ARE tempted to say that dreadful +word, won't you please consider that--that I'm still talking, and +telling you how much we want and need Pollyanna. + + "Hopefully yours, + + "DELLA WETHERBY." + +"There!" ejaculated Mrs. Chilton, as she laid the letter down. "Did +you ever read such a remarkable letter, or hear of a more +preposterous, absurd request?" + +"Well, I'm not so sure," smiled the doctor. "I don't think it's absurd +to want Pollyanna." + +"But--but the way she puts it--healing the wound in her sister's +heart, and all that. One would think the child was some sort of--of +medicine!" + +The doctor laughed outright, and raised his eyebrows. + +"Well, I'm not so sure but she is, Polly. I ALWAYS said I wished I +could prescribe her and buy her as I would a box of pills; and Charlie +Ames says they always made it a point at the Sanatorium to give their +patients a dose of Pollyanna as soon as possible after their arrival, +during the whole year she was there." + +"'Dose,' indeed!" scorned Mrs. Chilton. + +"Then--you don't think you'll let her go?" + +"Go? Why, of course not! Do you think I'd let that child go to perfect +strangers like that?--and such strangers! Why, Thomas, I should expect +that that nurse would have her all bottled and labeled with full +directions on the outside how to take her, by the time I'd got back +from Germany." + +Again the doctor threw back his head and laughed heartily, but only +for a moment. His face changed perceptibly as he reached into his +pocket for a letter. + +"I heard from Dr. Ames myself, this morning," he said, with an odd +something in his voice that brought a puzzled frown to his wife's +brow. "Suppose I read you my letter now." + +"Dear Tom," he began. "Miss Della Wetherby has asked me to give her +and her sister a 'character,' which I am very glad to do. I have known +the Wetherby girls from babyhood. They come from a fine old family, +and are thoroughbred gentlewomen. You need not fear on that score. + +"There were three sisters, Doris, Ruth, and Della. Doris married a man +named John Kent, much against the family's wishes. Kent came from good +stock, but was not much himself, I guess, and was certainly a very +eccentric, disagreeable man to deal with. He was bitterly angry at the +Wetherbys' attitude toward him, and there was little communication +between the families until the baby came. The Wetherbys worshiped the +little boy, James--'Jamie,' as they called him. Doris, the mother, +died when the boy was four years old, and the Wetherbys were making +every effort to get the father to give the child entirely up to them, +when suddenly Kent disappeared, taking the boy with him. He has never +been heard from since, though a world-wide search has been made. + +"The loss practically killed old Mr. and Mrs. Wetherby. They both died +soon after. Ruth was already married and widowed. Her husband was a +man named Carew, very wealthy, and much older than herself. He lived +but a year or so after marriage, and left her with a young son who +also died within a year. + +"From the time little Jamie disappeared, Ruth and Della seemed to have +but one object in life, and that was to find him. They have spent +money like water, and have all but moved heaven and earth; but without +avail. In time Della took up nursing. She is doing splendid work, and +has become the cheerful, efficient, sane woman that she was meant to +be--though still never forgetting her lost nephew, and never leaving +unfollowed any possible clew that might lead to his discovery. + +"But with Mrs. Carew it is quite different. After losing her own boy, +she seemed to concentrate all her thwarted mother-love on her sister's +son. As you can imagine, she was frantic when he disappeared. That was +eight years ago--for her, eight long years of misery, gloom, and +bitterness. Everything that money can buy, of course, is at her +command; but nothing pleases her, nothing interests her. Della feels +that the time has come when she must be gotten out of herself, at all +hazards; and Della believes that your wife's sunny little niece, +Pollyanna, possesses the magic key that will unlock the door to a new +existence for her. Such being the case, I hope you will see your way +clear to granting her request. And may I add that I, too, personally, +would appreciate the favor; for Ruth Carew and her sister are very +old, dear friends of my wife and myself; and what touches them touches +us. As ever yours, CHARLIE." + +The letter finished, there was a long silence, so long a silence that +the doctor uttered a quiet, "Well, Polly?" + +Still there was silence. The doctor, watching his wife's face closely, +saw that the usually firm lips and chin were trembling. He waited then +quietly until his wife spoke. + +"How soon--do you think--they'll expect her?" she asked at last. + +In spite of himself Dr. Chilton gave a slight start. + +"You--mean--that you WILL let her go?" he cried. + +His wife turned indignantly. + +"Why, Thomas Chilton, what a question! Do you suppose, after a letter +like that, I could do anything BUT let her go? Besides, didn't Dr. +Ames HIMSELF ask us to? Do you think, after what that man has done for +Pollyanna, that I'd refuse him ANYTHING--no matter what it was?" + +"Dear, dear! I hope, now, that the doctor won't take it into his head +to ask for--for YOU, my love," murmured the husband-of-a-year, with a +whimsical smile. But his wife only gave him a deservedly scornful +glance, and said: + +"You may write Dr. Ames that we'll send Pollyanna; and ask him to tell +Miss Wetherby to give us full instructions. It must be sometime before +the tenth of next month, of course, for you sail then; and I want to +see the child properly established myself before I leave, naturally." + +"When will you tell Pollyanna?" + +"To-morrow, probably." + +"What will you tell her?" + +"I don't know--exactly; but not any more than I can't help, certainly. +Whatever happens, Thomas, we don't want to spoil Pollyanna; and no +child could help being spoiled if she once got it into her head that +she was a sort of--of--" + +"Of medicine bottle with a label of full instructions for taking?" +interpolated the doctor, with a smile. + +"Yes," sighed Mrs. Chilton. "It's her unconsciousness that saves the +whole thing. YOU know that, dear." + +"Yes, I know," nodded the man. + +"She knows, of course, that you and I, and half the town are playing +the game with her, and that we--we are wonderfully happier because we +ARE playing it." Mrs. Chilton's voice shook a little, then went on +more steadily. "But if, consciously, she should begin to be anything +but her own natural, sunny, happy little self, playing the game that +her father taught her, she would be--just what that nurse said she +sounded like--'impossible.' So, whatever I tell her, I sha'n't tell +her that she's going down to Mrs. Carew's to cheer her up," concluded +Mrs. Chilton, rising to her feet with decision, and putting away her +work. + +"Which is where I think you're wise," approved the doctor. + +Pollyanna was told the next day; and this was the manner of it. + +"My dear," began her aunt, when the two were alone together that +morning, "how would you like to spend next winter in Boston?" + +"With you?" + +"No; I have decided to go with your uncle to Germany. But Mrs. Carew, +a dear friend of Dr. Ames, has asked you to come and stay with her for +the winter, and I think I shall let you go." + +Pollyanna's face fell. + +"But in Boston I won't have Jimmy, or Mr. Pendleton, or Mrs. Snow, or +anybody that I know, Aunt Polly." + +"No, dear; but you didn't have them when you came here--till you found +them." + +Pollyanna gave a sudden smile. + +"Why, Aunt Polly, so I didn't! And that means that down to Boston +there are some Jimmys and Mr. Pendletons and Mrs. Snows waiting for me +that I don't know, doesn't it?" + +"Yes, dear." + +"Then I can be glad of that. I believe now, Aunt Polly, you know how +to play the game better than I do. I never thought of the folks down +there waiting for me to know them. And there's such a lot of 'em, too! +I saw some of them when I was there two years ago with Mrs. Gray. We +were there two whole hours, you know, on my way here from out West. + +"There was a man in the station--a perfectly lovely man who told me +where to get a drink of water. Do you suppose he's there now? I'd like +to know him. And there was a nice lady with a little girl. They live +in Boston. They said they did. The little girl's name was Susie Smith. +Perhaps I could get to know them. Do you suppose I could? And there +was a boy, and another lady with a baby--only they lived in Honolulu, +so probably I couldn't find them there now. But there'd be Mrs. Carew, +anyway. Who is Mrs. Carew, Aunt Polly? Is she a relation?" + +"Dear me, Pollyanna!" exclaimed Mrs. Chilton, half-laughingly, +half-despairingly. "How do you expect anybody to keep up with your +tongue, much less your thoughts, when they skip to Honolulu and back +again in two seconds! No, Mrs. Carew isn't any relation to us. She's +Miss Della Wetherby's sister. Do you remember Miss Wetherby at the +Sanatorium?" + +Pollyanna clapped her hands. + +"HER sister? Miss Wetherby's sister? Oh, then she'll be lovely, I +know. Miss Wetherby was. I loved Miss Wetherby. She had little +smile-wrinkles all around her eyes and mouth, and she knew the NICEST +stories. I only had her two months, though, because she only got there +a little while before I came away. At first I was sorry that I hadn't +had her ALL the time, but afterwards I was glad; for you see if I HAD +had her all the time, it would have been harder to say good-by than +'twas when I'd only had her a little while. And now it'll seem as if I +had her again, 'cause I'm going to have her sister." + +Mrs. Chilton drew in her breath and bit her lip. + +"But, Pollyanna, dear, you must not expect that they'll be quite +alike," she ventured. + +"Why, they're SISTERS, Aunt Polly," argued the little girl, her eyes +widening; "and I thought sisters were always alike. We had two sets of +'em in the Ladies' Aiders. One set was twins, and THEY were so alike +you couldn't tell which was Mrs. Peck and which was Mrs. Jones, until +a wart grew on Mrs. Jones's nose, then of course we could, because we +looked for the wart the first thing. And that's what I told her one +day when she was complaining that people called her Mrs. Peck, and I +said if they'd only look for the wart as I did, they'd know right off. +But she acted real cross--I mean displeased, and I'm afraid she didn't +like it--though I don't see why; for I should have thought she'd been +glad there was something they could be told apart by, 'specially as +she was the president, and didn't like it when folks didn't ACT as if +she was the president--best seats and introductions and special +attentions at church suppers, you know. But she didn't, and afterwards +I heard Mrs. White tell Mrs. Rawson that Mrs. Jones had done +everything she could think of to get rid of that wart, even to trying +to put salt on a bird's tail. But I don't see how THAT could do any +good. Aunt Polly, DOES putting salt on a bird's tail help the warts on +people's noses?" + +"Of course not, child! How you do run on, Pollyanna, especially if you +get started on those Ladies' Aiders!" + +"Do I, Aunt Polly?" asked the little girl, ruefully. "And does it +plague you? I don't mean to plague you, honestly, Aunt Polly. And, +anyway, if I do plague you about those Ladies' Aiders, you can be kind +o' glad, for if I'm thinking of the Aiders, I'm sure to be thinking +how glad I am that I don't belong to them any longer, but have got an +aunt all my own. You can be glad of that, can't you, Aunt Polly?" + +"Yes, yes, dear, of course I can, of course I can," laughed Mrs. +Chilton, rising to leave the room, and feeling suddenly very guilty +that she was conscious sometimes of a little of her old irritation +against Pollyanna's perpetual gladness. + +During the next few days, while letters concerning Pollyanna's winter +stay in Boston were flying back and forth, Pollyanna herself was +preparing for that stay by a series of farewell visits to her +Beldingsville friends. + +Everybody in the little Vermont village knew Pollyanna now, and almost +everybody was playing the game with her. The few who were not, were +not refraining because of ignorance of what the glad game was. So to +one house after another Pollyanna carried the news now that she was +going down to Boston to spend the winter; and loudly rose the clamor +of regret and remonstrance, all the way from Nancy in Aunt Polly's own +kitchen to the great house on the hill where lived John Pendleton. + +Nancy did not hesitate to say--to every one except her mistress--that +SHE considered this Boston trip all foolishness, and that for her part +she would have been glad to take Miss Pollyanna home with her to the +Corners, she would, she would; and then Mrs. Polly could have gone to +Germany all she wanted to. + +On the hill John Pendleton said practically the same thing, only he +did not hesitate to say it to Mrs. Chilton herself. As for Jimmy, the +twelve-year-old boy whom John Pendleton had taken into his home +because Pollyanna wanted him to, and whom he had now adopted--because +he wanted to himself--as for Jimmy, Jimmy was indignant, and he was +not slow to show it. + +"But you've just come," he reproached Pollyanna, in the tone of voice +a small boy is apt to use when he wants to hide the fact that he has a +heart. + +"Why, I've been here ever since the last of March. Besides, it isn't +as if I was going to stay. It's only for this winter." + +"I don't care. You've just been away for a whole year, 'most, and if +I'd s'posed you was going away again right off, the first thing, I +wouldn't have helped one mite to meet you with flags and bands and +things, that day you come from the Sanatorium." + +"Why, Jimmy Bean!" ejaculated Pollyanna, in amazed disapproval. Then, +with a touch of superiority born of hurt pride, she observed: "I'm +sure I didn't ASK you to meet me with bands and things--and you made +two mistakes in that sentence. You shouldn't say 'you was'; and I +think 'you come' is wrong. It doesn't sound right, anyway." + +"Well, who cares if I did?" + +Pollyanna's eyes grew still more disapproving. + +"You SAID you did--when you asked me this summer to tell you when you +said things wrong, because Mr. Pendleton was trying to make you talk +right." + +"Well, if you'd been brought up in a 'sylum without any folks that +cared, instead of by a whole lot of old women who didn't have anything +to do but tell you how to talk right, maybe you'd say 'you was,' and a +whole lot more worse things, Pollyanna Whittier!" + +"Why, Jimmy Bean!" flared Pollyanna. "My Ladies' Aiders weren't old +women--that is, not many of them, so very old," she corrected hastily, +her usual proclivity for truth and literalness superseding her anger; +"and--" + +"Well, I'm not Jimmy Bean, either," interrupted the boy, uptilting his +chin. + +"You're--not-- Why, Jimmy Be-- --What do you mean?" demanded the little +girl. + +"I've been adopted, LEGALLY. He's been intending to do it, all along, +he says, only he didn't get to it. Now he's done it. I'm to be called +'Jimmy Pendleton' and I'm to call him Uncle John, only I ain't--are +not--I mean, I AM not used to it yet, so I hain't--haven't begun to +call him that, much." + +The boy still spoke crossly, aggrievedly, but every trace of +displeasure had fled from the little girl's face at his words. She +clapped her hands joyfully. + +"Oh, how splendid! Now you've really got FOLKS--folks that care, you +know. And you won't ever have to explain that he wasn't BORN your +folks, 'cause your name's the same now. I'm so glad, GLAD, GLAD!" + +The boy got up suddenly from the stone wall where they had been +sitting, and walked off. His cheeks felt hot, and his eyes smarted +with tears. It was to Pollyanna that he owed it all--this great good +that had come to him; and he knew it. And it was to Pollyanna that he +had just now been saying-- + +He kicked a small stone fiercely, then another, and another. He +thought those hot tears in his eyes were going to spill over and roll +down his cheeks in spite of himself. He kicked another stone, then +another; then he picked up a third stone and threw it with all his +might. A minute later he strolled back to Pollyanna still sitting on +the stone wall. + +"I bet you I can hit that pine tree down there before you can," he +challenged airily. + +"Bet you can't," cried Pollyanna, scrambling down from her perch. + +The race was not run after all, for Pollyanna remembered just in time +that running fast was yet one of the forbidden luxuries for her. But +so far as Jimmy was concerned, it did not matter. His cheeks were no +longer hot, his eyes were not threatening to overflow with tears. +Jimmy was himself again. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +A DOSE OF POLLYANNA + + +As the eighth of September approached--the day Pollyanna was to +arrive--Mrs. Ruth Carew became more and more nervously exasperated +with herself. She declared that she had regretted just ONCE her +promise to take the child--and that was ever since she had given it. +Before twenty-four hours had passed she had, indeed, written to her +sister demanding that she be released from the agreement; but Della +had answered that it was quite too late, as already both she and Dr. +Ames had written the Chiltons. + +Soon after that had come Della's letter saying that Mrs. Chilton had +given her consent, and would in a few days come to Boston to make +arrangements as to school, and the like. So there was nothing to be +done, naturally, but to let matters take their course. Mrs. Carew +realized that, and submitted to the inevitable, but with poor grace. +True, she tried to be decently civil when Della and Mrs. Chilton made +their expected appearance; but she was very glad that limited time +made Mrs. Chilton's stay of very short duration, and full to the brim +of business. + +It was well, indeed, perhaps, that Pollyanna's arrival was to be at a +date no later than the eighth; for time, instead of reconciling Mrs. +Carew to the prospective new member of her household, was filling her +with angry impatience at what she was pleased to call her "absurd +yielding to Della's crazy scheme." + +Nor was Della herself in the least unaware of her sister's state of +mind. If outwardly she maintained a bold front, inwardly she was very +fearful as to results; but on Pollyanna she was pinning her faith, and +because she did pin her faith on Pollyanna, she determined on the bold +stroke of leaving the little girl to begin her fight entirely unaided +and alone. She contrived, therefore, that Mrs. Carew should meet them +at the station upon their arrival; then, as soon as greetings and +introductions were over, she hurriedly pleaded a previous engagement +and took herself off. Mrs. Carew, therefore, had scarcely time to look +at her new charge before she found herself alone with the child. + +"Oh, but Della, Della, you mustn't--I can't--" she called agitatedly, +after the retreating figure of the nurse. + +But Della, if she heard, did not heed; and, plainly annoyed and vexed, +Mrs. Carew turned back to the child at her side. + +"What a shame! She didn't hear, did she?" Pollyanna was saying, her +eyes, also, wistfully following the nurse. "And I didn't WANT her to +go now a bit. But then, I've got you, haven't I? I can be glad for +that." + +"Oh, yes, you've got me--and I've got you," returned the lady, not +very graciously. "Come, we go this way," she directed, with a motion +toward the right. + +Obediently Pollyanna turned and trotted at Mrs. Carew's side, through +the huge station; but she looked up once or twice rather anxiously +into the lady's unsmiling face. At last she spoke hesitatingly. + +"I expect maybe you thought--I'd be pretty," she hazarded, in a +troubled voice. + +"P--pretty?" repeated Mrs. Carew. + +"Yes--with curls, you know, and all that. And of course you did wonder +how I DID look, just as I did you. Only I KNEW you'd be pretty and +nice, on account of your sister. I had her to go by, and you didn't +have anybody. And of course I'm not pretty, on account of the +freckles, and it ISN'T nice when you've been expecting a PRETTY little +girl, to have one come like me; and--" + +"Nonsense, child!" interrupted Mrs. Carew, a trifle sharply. "Come, +we'll see to your trunk now, then we'll go home. I had hoped that my +sister would come with us; but it seems she didn't see fit--even for +this one night." + +Pollyanna smiled and nodded. + +"I know; but she couldn't, probably. Somebody wanted her, I expect. +Somebody was always wanting her at the Sanatorium. It's a bother, of +course, when folks do want you all the time, isn't it?--'cause you +can't have yourself when you want yourself, lots of times. Still, you +can be kind of glad for that, for it IS nice to be wanted, isn't it?" + +There was no reply--perhaps because for the first time in her life +Mrs. Carew was wondering if anywhere in the world there was any one +who really wanted her--not that she WISHED to be wanted, of course, +she told herself angrily, pulling herself up with a jerk, and frowning +down at the child by her side. + +Pollyanna did not see the frown. Pollyanna's eyes were on the hurrying +throngs about them. + +"My! what a lot of people," she was saying happily. "There's even more +of them than there was the other time I was here; but I haven't seen +anybody, yet, that I saw then, though I've looked for them everywhere. +Of course the lady and the little baby lived in Honolulu, so probably +THEY WOULDN'T be here; but there was a little girl, Susie Smith--she +lived right here in Boston. Maybe you know her though. Do you know +Susie Smith?" + +"No, I don't know Susie Smith," replied Mrs. Carew, dryly. + +"Don't you? She's awfully nice, and SHE'S pretty--black curls, you +know; the kind I'm going to have when I go to Heaven. But never mind; +maybe I can find her for you so you WILL know her. Oh, my! what a +perfectly lovely automobile! And are we going to ride in it?" broke +off Pollyanna, as they came to a pause before a handsome limousine, +the door of which a liveried chauffeur was holding open. + +[Illustration: "'Oh, my! What a perfectly lovely automobile!'"] + +The chauffeur tried to hide a smile--and failed. Mrs. Carew, however, +answered with the weariness of one to whom "rides" are never anything +but a means of locomotion from one tiresome place to another probably +quite as tiresome. + +"Yes, we're going to ride in it." Then "Home, Perkins," she added to +the deferential chauffeur. + +"Oh, my, is it yours?" asked Pollyanna, detecting the unmistakable air +of ownership in her hostess's manner. "How perfectly lovely! Then you +must be rich--awfully--I mean EXCEEDINGLY rich, more than the kind +that just has carpets in every room and ice cream Sundays, like the +Whites--one of my Ladies' Aiders, you know. (That is, SHE was a +Ladies' Aider.) I used to think THEY were rich, but I know now that +being really rich means you've got diamond rings and hired girls and +sealskin coats, and dresses made of silk and velvet for every day, and +an automobile. Have you got all those?" + +"Why, y-yes, I suppose I have," admitted Mrs. Carew, with a faint +smile. + +"Then you are rich, of course," nodded Pollyanna, wisely. "My Aunt +Polly has them, too, only her automobile is a horse. My! but don't I +just love to ride in these things," exulted Pollyanna, with a happy +little bounce. "You see I never did before, except the one that ran +over me. They put me IN that one after they'd got me out from under +it; but of course I didn't know about it, so I couldn't enjoy it. +Since then I haven't been in one at all. Aunt Polly doesn't like them. +Uncle Tom does, though, and he wants one. He says he's got to have +one, in his business. He's a doctor, you know, and all the other +doctors in town have got them now. I don't know how it will come out. +Aunt Polly is all stirred up over it. You see, she wants Uncle Tom to +have what he wants, only she wants him to want what she wants him to +want. See?" + +Mrs. Carew laughed suddenly. + +"Yes, my dear, I think I see," she answered demurely, though her eyes +still carried--for them--a most unusual twinkle. + +"All right," sighed Pollyanna contentedly. "I thought you would; +still, it did sound sort of mixed when I said it. Oh, Aunt Polly says +she wouldn't mind having an automobile, so much, if she could have the +only one there was in the world, so there wouldn't be any one else to +run into her; but--My! what a lot of houses!" broke off Pollyanna, +looking about her with round eyes of wonder. "Don't they ever stop? +Still, there'd have to be a lot of them for all those folks to live +in, of course, that I saw at the station, besides all these here on +the streets. And of course where there ARE more folks, there are more +to know. I love folks. Don't you?" + +"LOVE FOLKS!" + +"Yes, just folks, I mean. Anybody--everybody." + +"Well, no, Pollyanna, I can't say that I do," replied Mrs. Carew, +coldly, her brows contracted. + +Mrs. Carew's eyes had lost their twinkle. They were turned rather +mistrustfully, indeed, on Pollyanna. To herself Mrs. Carew was saying: +"Now for preachment number one, I suppose, on my duty to mix with my +fellow-men, a la Sister Della!" + +"Don't you? Oh, I do," sighed Pollyanna. "They're all so nice and so +different, you know. And down here there must be such a lot of them to +be nice and different. Oh, you don't know how glad I am so soon that I +came! I knew I would be, anyway, just as soon as I found out you were +YOU--that is, Miss Wetherby's sister, I mean. I love Miss Wetherby, so +I knew I should you, too; for of course you'd be alike--sisters, +so--even if you weren't twins like Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Peck--and they +weren't quite alike, anyway, on account of the wart. But I reckon you +don't know what I mean, so I'll tell you." + +And thus it happened that Mrs. Carew, who had been steeling herself +for a preachment on social ethics, found herself, much to her surprise +and a little to her discomfiture, listening to the story of a wart on +the nose of one Mrs. Peck, Ladies' Aider. + +By the time the story was finished the limousine had turned into +Commonwealth Avenue, and Pollyanna immediately began to exclaim at the +beauty of a street which had such a "lovely big long yard all the way +up and down through the middle of it," and which was all the nicer, +she said, "after all those little narrow streets." + +"Only I should think every one would want to live on it," she +commented enthusiastically. + +"Very likely; but that would hardly be possible," retorted Mrs. Carew, +with uplifted eyebrows. + +Pollyanna, mistaking the expression on her face for one of +dissatisfaction that her own home was not on the beautiful Avenue, +hastened to make amends. + +"Why, no, of course not," she agreed. "And I didn't mean that the +narrower streets weren't just as nice," she hurried on; "and even +better, maybe, because you could be glad you didn't have to go so far +when you wanted to run across the way to borrow eggs or soda, and--Oh, +but DO you live here?" she interrupted herself, as the car came to a +stop before the imposing Carew doorway. "Do you live here, Mrs. +Carew?" + +"Why, yes, of course I live here," returned the lady, with just a +touch of irritation. + +"Oh, how glad, GLAD you must be to live in such a perfectly lovely +place!" exulted the little girl, springing to the sidewalk and looking +eagerly about her. "Aren't you glad?" + +Mrs. Carew did not reply. With unsmiling lips and frowning brow she +was stepping from the limousine. + +For the second time in five minutes, Pollyanna hastened to make +amends. + +"Of course I don't mean the kind of glad that's sinfully proud," she +explained, searching Mrs. Carew's face with anxious eyes. "Maybe you +thought I did, same as Aunt Polly used to, sometimes. I don't mean the +kind that's glad because you've got something somebody else can't +have; but the kind that just--just makes you want to shout and yell +and bang doors, you know, even if it isn't proper," she finished, +dancing up and down on her toes. + +The chauffeur turned his back precipitately, and busied himself with +the car. Mrs. Carew, still with unsmiling lips and frowning brow led +the way up the broad stone steps. + +"Come, Pollyanna," was all she said, crisply. + + +It was five days later that Della Wetherby received the letter from +her sister, and very eagerly she tore it open. It was the first that +had come since Pollyanna's arrival in Boston. + +"My dear Sister," Mrs. Carew had written. "For pity's sake, Della, why +didn't you give me some sort of an idea what to expect from this child +you have insisted upon my taking? I'm nearly wild--and I simply can't +send her away. I've tried to three times, but every time, before I get +the words out of my mouth, she stops them by telling me what a +perfectly lovely time she is having, and how glad she is to be here, +and how good I am to let her live with me while her Aunt Polly has +gone to Germany. Now how, pray, in the face of that, can I turn around +and say 'Well, won't you please go home; I don't want you'? And the +absurd part of it is, I don't believe it has ever entered her head +that I don't WANT her here; and I can't seem to make it enter her +head, either. + +"Of course if she begins to preach, and to tell me to count my +blessings, I SHALL send her away. You know I told you, to begin with, +that I wouldn't permit that. And I won't. Two or three times I have +thought she was going to (preach, I mean), but so far she has always +ended up with some ridiculous story about those Ladies' Aiders of +hers; so the sermon gets sidetracked--luckily for her, if she wants to +stay. + +"But, really, Della, she is impossible. Listen. In the first place she +is wild with delight over the house. The very first day she got here +she begged me to open every room; and she was not satisfied until +every shade in the house was up, so that she might 'see all the +perfectly lovely things,' which, she declared, were even nicer than +Mr. John Pendleton's--whoever he may be, somebody in Beldingsville, I +believe. Anyhow, he isn't a Ladies' Aider. I've found out that much. + +"Then, as if it wasn't enough to keep me running from room to room (as +if I were the guide on a 'personally conducted'), what did she do but +discover a white satin evening gown that I hadn't worn for years, and +beseech me to put it on. And I did put it on--why, I can't imagine, +only that I found myself utterly helpless in her hands. + +"But that was only the beginning. She begged then to see everything +that I had, and she was so perfectly funny in her stories of the +missionary barrels, which she used to 'dress out of,' that I had to +laugh--though I almost cried, too, to think of the wretched things +that poor child had to wear. Of course gowns led to jewels, and she +made such a fuss over my two or three rings that I foolishly opened +the safe, just to see her eyes pop out. And, Della, I thought that +child would go crazy. She put on to me every ring, brooch, bracelet, +and necklace that I owned, and insisted on fastening both diamond +tiaras in my hair (when she found out what they were), until there I +sat, hung with pearls and diamonds and emeralds, and feeling like a +heathen goddess in a Hindu temple, especially when that preposterous +child began to dance round and round me, clapping her hands and +chanting, 'Oh, how perfectly lovely, how perfectly lovely! How I would +love to hang you on a string in the window--you'd make such a +beautiful prism!' + +"I was just going to ask her what on earth she meant by that when down +she dropped in the middle of the floor and began to cry. And what do +you suppose she was crying for? Because she was so glad she'd got eyes +that could see! Now what do you think of that? + +"Of course this isn't all. It's only the beginning. Pollyanna has been +here four days, and she's filled every one of them full. She already +numbers among her friends the ash-man, the policeman on the beat, and +the paper boy, to say nothing of every servant in my employ. They seem +actually bewitched with her, every one of them. But please do not +think _I_ am, for I'm not. I would send the child back to you at once +if I didn't feel obliged to fulfil my promise to keep her this winter. +As for her making me forget Jamie and my great sorrow--that is +impossible. She only makes me feel my loss all the more +keenly--because I have her instead of him. But, as I said, I shall +keep her--until she begins to preach. Then back she goes to you. But +she hasn't preached yet. + + "Lovingly but distractedly yours, + + "RUTH." + +"'Hasn't preached yet,' indeed!" chuckled Della Wetherby to herself, +folding up the closely-written sheets of her sister's letter. "Oh, +Ruth, Ruth! and yet you admit that you've opened every room, raised +every shade, decked yourself in satin and jewels--and Pollyanna hasn't +been there a week yet. But she hasn't preached--oh, no, she hasn't +preached!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE GAME AND MRS. CAREW + + +Boston, to Pollyanna, was a new experience, and certainly Pollyanna, +to Boston--such part of it as was privileged to know her--was very +much of a new experience. + +Pollyanna said she liked Boston, but that she did wish it was not +quite so big. + +"You see," she explained earnestly to Mrs. Carew, the day following +her arrival, "I want to see and know it ALL, and I can't. It's just +like Aunt Polly's company dinners; there's so much to eat--I mean, to +see--that you don't eat--I mean, see--anything, because you're always +trying to decide what to eat--I mean, to see. + +"Of course you can be glad there IS such a lot," resumed Pollyanna, +after taking breath, "'cause a whole lot of anything is nice--that is, +GOOD things; not such things as medicine and funerals, of course!--but +at the same time I couldn't used to help wishing Aunt Polly's company +dinners could be spread out a little over the days when there wasn't +any cake and pie; and I feel the same way about Boston. I wish I could +take part of it home with me up to Beldingsville so I'd have SOMETHING +new next summer. But of course I can't. Cities aren't like frosted +cake--and, anyhow, even the cake didn't keep very well. I tried it, +and it dried up, 'specially the frosting. I reckon the time to take +frosting and good times is while they are going; so I want to see all +I can now while I'm here." + +Pollyanna, unlike the people who think that to see the world one must +begin at the most distant point, began her "seeing Boston" by a +thorough exploration of her immediate surroundings--the beautiful +Commonwealth Avenue residence which was now her home. This, with her +school work, fully occupied her time and attention for some days. + +There was so much to see, and so much to learn; and everything was so +marvelous and so beautiful, from the tiny buttons in the wall that +flooded the rooms with light, to the great silent ballroom hung with +mirrors and pictures. There were so many delightful people to know, +too, for besides Mrs. Carew herself there were Mary, who dusted the +drawing-rooms, answered the bell, and accompanied Pollyanna to and +from school each day; Bridget, who lived in the kitchen and cooked; +Jennie, who waited at table, and Perkins who drove the automobile. And +they were all so delightful--yet so different! + +Pollyanna had arrived on a Monday, so it was almost a week before the +first Sunday. She came downstairs that morning with a beaming +countenance. + +"I love Sundays," she sighed happily. + +"Do you?" Mrs. Carew's voice had the weariness of one who loves no +day. + +"Yes, on account of church, you know, and Sunday school. Which do you +like best, church, or Sunday school?" + +"Well, really, I--" began Mrs. Carew, who seldom went to church and +never went to Sunday school. + +"'Tis hard to tell, isn't it?" interposed Pollyanna, with luminous but +serious eyes. "But you see _I_ like church best, on account of father. +You know he was a minister, and of course he's really up in Heaven +with mother and the rest of us, but I try to imagine him down here, +lots of times; and it's easiest in church, when the minister is +talking. I shut my eyes and imagine it's father up there; and it helps +lots. I'm so glad we can imagine things, aren't you?" + +"I'm not so sure of that, Pollyanna." + +"Oh, but just think how much nicer our IMAGINED things are than our +really truly ones--that is, of course, yours aren't, because your REAL +ones are so nice." Mrs. Carew angrily started to speak, but Pollyanna +was hurrying on. "And of course MY real ones are ever so much nicer +than they used to be. But all that time I was hurt, when my legs +didn't go, I just had to keep imagining all the time, just as hard as +I could. And of course now there are lots of times when I do it--like +about father, and all that. And so to-day I'm just going to imagine +it's father up there in the pulpit. What time do we go?" + +"GO?" + +"To church, I mean." + +"But, Pollyanna, I don't--that is, I'd rather not--" Mrs. Carew +cleared her throat and tried again to say that she was not going to +church at all; that she almost never went. But with Pollyanna's +confident little face and happy eyes before her, she could not do it. + +"Why, I suppose--about quarter past ten--if we walk," she said then, +almost crossly. "It's only a little way." + +Thus it happened that Mrs. Carew on that bright September morning +occupied for the first time in months the Carew pew in the very +fashionable and elegant church to which she had gone as a girl, and +which she still supported liberally--so far as money went. + +To Pollyanna that Sunday morning service was a great wonder and joy. +The marvelous music of the vested choir, the opalescent rays from the +jeweled windows, the impassioned voice of the preacher, and the +reverent hush of the worshiping throng filled her with an ecstasy that +left her for a time almost speechless. Not until they were nearly home +did she fervently breathe: + +"Oh, Mrs. Carew, I've just been thinking how glad I am we don't have +to live but just one day at a time!" + +Mrs. Carew frowned and looked down sharply. Mrs. Carew was in no mood +for preaching. She had just been obliged to endure it from the pulpit, +she told herself angrily, and she would NOT listen to it from this +chit of a child. Moreover, this "living one day at a time" theory was +a particularly pet doctrine of Della's. Was not Della always saying: +"But you only have to live one minute at a time, Ruth, and any one can +endure anything for one minute at a time!" + +"Well?" said Mrs. Carew now, tersely. + +"Yes. Only think what I'd do if I had to live yesterday and to-day and +to-morrow all at once," sighed Pollyanna. "Such a lot of perfectly +lovely things, you know. But I've had yesterday, and now I'm living +to-day, and I've got to-morrow still coming, and next Sunday, too. +Honestly, Mrs. Carew, if it wasn't Sunday now, and on this nice quiet +street, I should just dance and shout and yell. I couldn't help it. +But it's being Sunday, so, I shall have to wait till I get home and +then take a hymn--the most rejoicingest hymn I can think of. What is +the most rejoicingest hymn? Do you know, Mrs. Carew?" + +"No, I can't say that I do," answered Mrs. Carew, faintly, looking +very much as if she were searching for something she had lost. For a +woman who expects, because things are so bad, to be told that she need +stand only one day at a time, it is disarming, to say the least, to be +told that, because things are so good, it is lucky she does not HAVE +to stand but one day at a time! + +On Monday, the next morning, Pollyanna went to school for the first +time alone. She knew the way perfectly now, and it was only a short +walk. Pollyanna enjoyed her school very much. It was a small private +school for girls, and was quite a new experience, in its way; but +Pollyanna liked new experiences. + +Mrs. Carew, however, did not like new experiences, and she was having +a good many of them these days. For one who is tired of everything to +be in so intimate a companionship with one to whom everything is a +fresh and fascinating joy must needs result in annoyance, to say the +least. And Mrs. Carew was more than annoyed. She was exasperated. Yet +to herself she was forced to admit that if any one asked her why she +was exasperated, the only reason she could give would be "Because +Pollyanna is so glad"--and even Mrs. Carew would hardly like to give +an answer like that. + +To Della, however, Mrs. Carew did write that the word "glad" had got +on her nerves, and that sometimes she wished she might never hear it +again. She still admitted that Pollyanna had not preached--that she +had not even once tried to make her play the game. What the child did +do, however, was invariably to take Mrs. Carew's "gladness" as a +matter of course, which, to one who HAD no gladness, was most +provoking. + +It was during the second week of Pollyanna's stay that Mrs. Carew's +annoyance overflowed into irritable remonstrance. The immediate cause +thereof was Pollyanna's glowing conclusion to a story about one of her +Ladies' Aiders. + +"She was playing the game, Mrs. Carew. But maybe you don't know what +the game is. I'll tell you. It's a lovely game." + +But Mrs. Carew held up her hand. + +"Never mind, Pollyanna," she demurred. "I know all about the game. My +sister told me, and--and I must say that I--I should not care for it." + +"Why, of course not, Mrs. Carew!" exclaimed Pollyanna in quick +apology. "I didn't mean the game for you. You couldn't play it, of +course." + +"I COULDN'T play it!" ejaculated Mrs. Carew, who, though she WOULD not +play this silly game, was in no mood to be told that she COULD not. + +"Why, no, don't you see?" laughed Pollyanna, gleefully. "The game is +to find something in everything to be glad about; and you couldn't +even begin to hunt, for there isn't anything about you but what you +COULD be glad about. There wouldn't BE any game to it for you! Don't +you see?" + +Mrs. Carew flushed angrily. In her annoyance she said more than +perhaps she meant to say. + +"Well, no, Pollyanna, I can't say that I do," she differed coldly. "As +it happens, you see, I can find nothing whatever to be--glad for." + +For a moment Pollyanna stared blankly. Then she fell back in +amazement. + +"Why, MRS. CAREW!" she breathed. + +"Well, what is there--for me?" challenged the woman, forgetting all +about, for the moment, that she was never going to allow Pollyanna to +"preach." + +"Why, there's--there's everything," murmured Pollyanna, still with +that dazed unbelief. "There--there's this beautiful house." + +"It's just a place to eat and sleep--and I don't want to eat and +sleep." + +"But there are all these perfectly lovely things," faltered Pollyanna. + +"I'm tired of them." + +"And your automobile that will take you anywhere." + +"I don't want to go anywhere." + +Pollyanna quite gasped aloud. + +"But think of the people and things you could see, Mrs. Carew." + +"They would not interest me, Pollyanna." + +Once again Pollyanna stared in amazement. The troubled frown on her +face deepened. + +"But, Mrs. Carew, I don't see," she urged. "Always, before, there have +been BAD things for folks to play the game on, and the badder they are +the more fun 'tis to get them out--find the things to be glad for, I +mean. But where there AREN'T any bad things, I shouldn't know how to +play the game myself." + +There was no answer for a time. Mrs. Carew sat with her eyes out the +window. Gradually the angry rebellion on her face changed to a look of +hopeless sadness. Very slowly then she turned and said: + +"Pollyanna, I had thought I wouldn't tell you this; but I've decided +that I will. I'm going to tell you why nothing that I have can make +me--glad." And she began the story of Jamie, the little four-year-old +boy who, eight long years before, had stepped as into another world, +leaving the door fast shut between. + +"And you've never seen him since--anywhere?" faltered Pollyanna, with +tear-wet eyes, when the story was done. + +"Never." + +"But we'll find him, Mrs. Carew--I'm sure we'll find him." + +Mrs. Carew shook her head sadly. + +"But I can't. I've looked everywhere, even in foreign lands." + +"But he must be somewhere." + +"He may be--dead, Pollyanna." + +Pollyanna gave a quick cry. + +"Oh, no, Mrs. Carew. Please don't say that! Let's imagine he's alive. +We CAN do that, and that'll help; and when we get him IMAGINED alive +we can just as well imagine we're going to find him. And that'll help +a whole lot more." + +"But I'm afraid he's--dead, Pollyanna," choked Mrs. Carew. + +"You don't know it for sure, do you?" besought the little girl, +anxiously. + +"N-no." + +"Well, then, you're just imagining it," maintained Pollyanna, in +triumph. "And if you can imagine him dead, you can just as well +imagine him alive, and it'll be a whole lot nicer while you're doing +it. Don't you see? And some day, I'm just sure you'll find him. Why, +Mrs. Carew, you CAN play the game now! You can play it on Jamie. You +can be glad every day, for every day brings you just one day nearer to +the time when you're going to find him. See?" + +But Mrs. Carew did not "see." She rose drearily to her feet and said: + +"No, no, child! You don't understand--you don't understand. Now run +away, please, and read, or do anything you like. My head aches. I'm +going to lie down." + +And Pollyanna, with a troubled, sober face, slowly left the room. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +POLLYANNA TAKES A WALK + + +It was on the second Saturday afternoon that Pollyanna took her +memorable walk. Heretofore Pollyanna had not walked out alone, except +to go to and from school. That she would ever attempt to explore +Boston streets by herself, never occurred to Mrs. Carew, hence she +naturally had never forbidden it. In Beldingsville, however, Pollyanna +had found--especially at the first--her chief diversion in strolling +about the rambling old village streets in search of new friends and +new adventures. + +On this particular Saturday afternoon Mrs. Carew had said, as she +often did say: "There, there, child, run away; please do. Go where you +like and do what you like, only don't, please, ask me any more +questions to-day!" + +Until now, left to herself, Pollyanna had always found plenty to +interest her within the four walls of the house; for, if inanimate +things failed, there were yet Mary, Jennie, Bridget, and Perkins. +To-day, however, Mary had a headache, Jennie was trimming a new hat, +Bridget was making apple pies, and Perkins was nowhere to be found. +Moreover it was a particularly beautiful September day, and nothing +within the house was so alluring as the bright sunlight and balmy air +outside. So outside Pollyanna went and dropped herself down on the +steps. + +For some time she watched in silence the well-dressed men, women, and +children, who walked briskly by the house, or else sauntered more +leisurely through the parkway that extended up and down the middle of +the Avenue. Then she got to her feet, skipped down the steps, and +stood looking, first to the right, then to the left. + +Pollyanna had decided that she, too, would take a walk. It was a +beautiful day for a walk, and not once, yet, had she taken one at +all--not a REAL walk. Just going to and from school did not count. So +she would take one to-day. Mrs. Carew would not mind. Had she not told +her to do just what she pleased so long as she asked no more +questions? And there was the whole long afternoon before her. Only +think what a lot one might see in a whole long afternoon! And it +really was such a beautiful day. She would go--this way! And with a +little whirl and skip of pure joy, Pollyanna turned and walked +blithely down the Avenue. + +Into the eyes of those she met Pollyanna smiled joyously. She was +disappointed--but not surprised--that she received no answering smile +in return. She was used to that now--in Boston. She still smiled, +however, hopefully: there might be some one, sometime, who would smile +back. + +Mrs. Carew's home was very near the beginning of Commonwealth Avenue, +so it was not long before Pollyanna found herself at the edge of a +street crossing her way at right angles. Across the street, in all its +autumn glory, lay what to Pollyanna was the most beautiful "yard" she +had ever seen--the Boston Public Garden. + +For a moment Pollyanna hesitated, her eyes longingly fixed on the +wealth of beauty before her. That it was the private grounds of some +rich man or woman, she did not for a moment doubt. Once, with Dr. Ames +at the Sanatorium, she had been taken to call on a lady who lived in a +beautiful house surrounded by just such walks and trees and +flower-beds as these. + +Pollyanna wanted now very much to cross the street and walk in those +grounds, but she doubted if she had the right. To be sure, others were +there, moving about, she could see; but they might be invited guests, +of course. After she had seen two women, one man, and a little girl +unhesitatingly enter the gate and walk briskly down the path, however, +Pollyanna concluded that she, too, might go. Watching her chance she +skipped nimbly across the street and entered the Garden. + +It was even more beautiful close at hand than it had been at a +distance. Birds twittered over her head, and a squirrel leaped across +the path ahead of her. On benches here and there sat men, women, and +children. Through the trees flashed the sparkle of the sun on water; +and from somewhere came the shouts of children and the sound of music. + +Once again Pollyanna hesitated; then, a little timidly, she accosted a +handsomely-dressed young woman coming toward her. + +"Please, is this--a party?" she asked. + +The young woman stared. + +"A party!" she repeated dazedly. + +"Yes'm. I mean, is it all right for me--to be here?" + +"For you to be here? Why, of course. It's for--for everybody!" +exclaimed the young woman. + +"Oh, that's all right, then. I'm glad I came," beamed Pollyanna. + +The young woman said nothing; but she turned back and looked at +Pollyanna still dazedly as she hurried away. + +Pollyanna, not at all surprised that the owner of this beautiful place +should be so generous as to give a party to everybody, continued on +her way. At the turn of the path she came upon a small girl and a doll +carriage. She stopped with a glad little cry, but she had not said a +dozen words before from somewhere came a young woman with hurrying +steps and a disapproving voice; a young woman who held out her hand to +the small girl, and said sharply: + +"Here, Gladys, Gladys, come away with me. Hasn't mama told you not to +talk to strange children?" + +"But I'm not strange children," explained Pollyanna in eager defense. +"I live right here in Boston, now, and--" But the young woman and the +little girl dragging the doll carriage were already far down the path; +and with a half-stifled sigh Pollyanna fell back. For a moment she +stood silent, plainly disappointed; then resolutely she lifted her +chin and went forward. + +"Well, anyhow, I can be glad for that," she nodded to herself, "for +now maybe I'll find somebody even nicer--Susie Smith, perhaps, or even +Mrs. Carew's Jamie. Anyhow, I can IMAGINE I'm going to find them; and +if I don't find THEM, I can find SOMEBODY!" she finished, her wistful +eyes on the self-absorbed people all about her. + +Undeniably Pollyanna was lonesome. Brought up by her father and the +Ladies' Aid Society in a small Western town, she had counted every +house in the village her home, and every man, woman, and child her +friend. Coming to her aunt in Vermont at eleven years of age, she had +promptly assumed that conditions would differ only in that the homes +and the friends would be new, and therefore even more delightful, +possibly, for they would be "different"--and Pollyanna did so love +"different" things and people! Her first and always her supreme +delight in Beldingsville, therefore, had been her long rambles about +the town and the charming visits with the new friends she had made. +Quite naturally, in consequence, Boston, as she first saw it, seemed +to Pollyanna even more delightfully promising in its possibilities. + +Thus far, however, Pollyanna had to admit that in one respect, at +least, it had been disappointing: she had been here nearly two weeks +and she did not yet know the people who lived across the street, or +even next door. More inexplicable still, Mrs. Carew herself did not +know many of them, and not any of them well. She seemed, indeed, +utterly indifferent to her neighbors, which was most amazing from +Pollyanna's point of view; but nothing she could say appeared to +change Mrs. Carew's attitude in the matter at all. + +"They do not interest me, Pollyanna," was all she would say; and with +this, Pollyanna--whom they did interest very much--was forced to be +content. + +To-day, on her walk, however, Pollyanna had started out with high +hopes, yet thus far she seemed destined to be disappointed. Here all +about her were people who were doubtless most delightful--if she only +knew them. But she did not know them. Worse yet, there seemed to be no +prospect that she would know them, for they did not, apparently, wish +to know her: Pollyanna was still smarting under the nurse's sharp +warning concerning "strange children." + +"Well, I reckon I'll just have to show 'em that I'm not strange +children," she said at last to herself, moving confidently forward +again. + +Pursuant of this idea Pollyanna smiled sweetly into the eyes of the +next person she met, and said blithely: + +"It's a nice day, isn't it?" + +"Er--what? Oh, y-yes, it is," murmured the lady addressed, as she +hastened on a little faster. + +Twice again Pollyanna tried the same experiment, but with like +disappointing results. Soon she came upon the little pond that she had +seen sparkling in the sunlight through the trees. It was a beautiful +pond, and on it were several pretty little boats full of laughing +children. As she watched them, Pollyanna felt more and more +dissatisfied to remain by herself. It was then that, spying a man +sitting alone not far away, she advanced slowly toward him and sat +down on the other end of the bench. Once Pollyanna would have danced +unhesitatingly to the man's side and suggested acquaintanceship with a +cheery confidence that had no doubt of a welcome; but recent rebuffs +had filled her with unaccustomed diffidence. Covertly she looked at +the man now. + +He was not very good to look at. His garments, though new, were dusty, +and plainly showed lack of care. They were of the cut and style +(though Pollyanna of course did not know this) that the State gives +its prisoners as a freedom suit. His face was a pasty white, and was +adorned with a week's beard. His hat was pulled far down over his +eyes. With his hands in his pockets he sat idly staring at the ground. + +For a long minute Pollyanna said nothing; then hopefully she began: + +"It IS a nice day, isn't it?" + +The man turned his head with a start. + +"Eh? Oh--er--what did you say?" he questioned, with a curiously +frightened look around to make sure the remark was addressed to him. + +"I said 'twas a nice day," explained Pollyanna in hurried earnestness; +"but I don't care about that especially. That is, of course I'm glad +it's a nice day, but I said it just as a beginning to things, and I'd +just as soon talk about something else--anything else. It's only that +I wanted you to talk--about something, you see." + +The man gave a low laugh. Even to Pollyanna the laugh sounded a little +queer, though she did not know (as did the man) that a laugh to his +lips had been a stranger for many months. + +"So you want me to talk, do you?" he said a little sadly. "Well, I +don't see but what I shall have to do it, then. Still, I should think +a nice little lady like you might find lots nicer people to talk to +than an old duffer like me." + +"Oh, but I like old duffers," exclaimed Pollyanna quickly; "that is, I +like the OLD part, and I don't know what a duffer is, so I can't +dislike that. Besides, if you are a duffer, I reckon I like duffers. +Anyhow, I like you," she finished, with a contented little settling of +herself in her seat that carried conviction. + +"Humph! Well, I'm sure I'm flattered," smiled the man, ironically. +Though his face and words expressed polite doubt, it might have been +noticed that he sat a little straighter on the bench. "And, pray, what +shall we talk about?" + +"It's--it's infinitesimal to me. That means I don't care, doesn't it?" +asked Pollyanna, with a beaming smile. "Aunt Polly says that, whatever +I talk about, anyhow, I always bring up at the Ladies' Aiders. But I +reckon that's because they brought me up first, don't you? We might +talk about the party. I think it's a perfectly beautiful party--now +that I know some one." + +"P-party?" + +"Yes--this, you know--all these people here to-day. It IS a party, +isn't it? The lady said it was for everybody, so I stayed--though I +haven't got to where the house is, yet, that's giving the party." + +The man's lips twitched. + +"Well, little lady, perhaps it is a party, in a way," he smiled; "but +the 'house' that's giving it is the city of Boston. This is the Public +Garden--a public park, you understand, for everybody." + +"Is it? Always? And I may come here any time I want to? Oh, how +perfectly lovely! That's even nicer than I thought it could be. I'd +worried for fear I couldn't ever come again, after to-day, you see. +I'm glad now, though, that I didn't know it just at the first, for +it's all the nicer now. Nice things are nicer when you've been +worrying for fear they won't be nice, aren't they?" + +"Perhaps they are--if they ever turn out to be nice at all," conceded +the man, a little gloomily. + +"Yes, I think so," nodded Pollyanna, not noticing the gloom. "But +isn't it beautiful--here?" she gloried. "I wonder if Mrs. Carew knows +about it--that it's for anybody, so. Why, I should think everybody +would want to come here all the time, and just stay and look around." + +The man's face hardened. + +"Well, there are a few people in the world who have got a job--who've +got something to do besides just to come here and stay and look +around; but I don't happen to be one of them." + +"Don't you? Then you can be glad for that, can't you?" sighed +Pollyanna, her eyes delightedly following a passing boat. + +The man's lips parted indignantly, but no words came. Pollyanna was +still talking. + +"I wish _I_ didn't have anything to do but that. I have to go to +school. Oh, I like school; but there's such a whole lot of things I +like better. Still I'm glad I CAN go to school. I'm 'specially glad +when I remember how last winter I didn't think I could ever go again. +You see, I lost my legs for a while--I mean, they didn't go; and you +know you never know how much you use things, till you don't have 'em. +And eyes, too. Did you ever think what a lot you do with eyes? I +didn't till I went to the Sanatorium. There was a lady there who had +just got blind the year before. I tried to get her to play the +game--finding something to be glad about, you know--but she said she +couldn't; and if I wanted to know why, I might tie up my eyes with my +handkerchief for just one hour. And I did. It was awful. Did you ever +try it?" + +"Why, n-no, I didn't." A half-vexed, half-baffled expression was +coming to the man's face. + +"Well, don't. It's awful. You can't do anything--not anything that you +want to do. But I kept it on the whole hour. Since then I've been so +glad, sometimes--when I see something perfectly lovely like this, you +know--I've been so glad I wanted to cry;--'cause I COULD see it, you +know. She's playing the game now, though--that blind lady is. Miss +Wetherby told me." + +"The--GAME?" + +"Yes; the glad game. Didn't I tell you? Finding something in +everything to be glad about. Well, she's found it now--about her eyes, +you know. Her husband is the kind of a man that goes to help make the +laws, and she had him ask for one that would help blind people, +'specially little babies. And she went herself and talked and told +those men how it felt to be blind. And they made it--that law. And +they said that she did more than anybody else, even her husband, to +help make it, and that they didn't believe there would have been any +law at all if it hadn't been for her. So now she says she's glad she +lost her eyes, 'cause she's kept so many little babies from growing up +to be blind like her. So you see she's playing it--the game. But I +reckon you don't know about the game yet, after all; so I'll tell you. +It started this way." And Pollyanna, with her eyes on the shimmering +beauty all about her, told of the little pair of crutches of long ago, +which should have been a doll. + +When the story was finished there was a long silence; then, a little +abruptly the man got to his feet. + +"Oh, are you going away NOW?" she asked in open disappointment. + +"Yes, I'm going now." He smiled down at her a little queerly. + +"But you're coming back sometime?" + +He shook his head--but again he smiled. + +"I hope not--and I believe not, little girl. You see, I've made a +great discovery to-day. I thought I was down and out. I thought there +was no place for me anywhere--now. But I've just discovered that I've +got two eyes, two arms, and two legs. Now I'm going to use them--and +I'm going to MAKE somebody understand that I know how to use them!" + +The next moment he was gone. + +"Why, what a funny man!" mused Pollyanna. "Still, he was nice--and he +was different, too," she finished, rising to her feet and resuming her +walk. + +Pollyanna was now once more her usual cheerful self, and she stepped +with the confident assurance of one who has no doubt. Had not the man +said that this was a public park, and that she had as good a right as +anybody to be there? She walked nearer to the pond and crossed the +bridge to the starting-place of the little boats. For some time she +watched the children happily, keeping a particularly sharp lookout for +the possible black curls of Susie Smith. She would have liked to take +a ride in the pretty boats, herself, but the sign said "Five cents" a +trip, and she did not have any money with her. She smiled hopefully +into the faces of several women, and twice she spoke tentatively. But +no one spoke first to her, and those whom she addressed eyed her +coldly, and made scant response. + +After a time she turned her steps into still another path. Here she +found a white-faced boy in a wheel chair. She would have spoken to +him, but he was so absorbed in his book that she turned away after a +moment's wistful gazing. Soon then she came upon a pretty, but +sad-looking young girl sitting alone, staring at nothing, very much as +the man had sat. With a contented little cry Pollyanna hurried +forward. + +"Oh, how do you do?" she beamed. "I'm so glad I found you! I've been +hunting ever so long for you," she asserted, dropping herself down on +the unoccupied end of the bench. + +The pretty girl turned with a start, an eager look of expectancy in +her eyes. + +"Oh!" she exclaimed, falling back in plain disappointment. "I +thought-- Why, what do you mean?" she demanded aggrievedly. "I never +set eyes on you before in my life." + +"No, I didn't you, either," smiled Pollyanna; "but I've been hunting +for you, just the same. That is, of course I didn't know you were +going to be YOU exactly. It's just that I wanted to find some one that +looked lonesome, and that didn't have anybody. Like me, you know. So +many here to-day have got folks. See?" + +"Yes, I see," nodded the girl, falling back into her old listlessness. +"But, poor little kid, it's too bad YOU should find it out--so soon." + +"Find what out?" + +"That the lonesomest place in all the world is in a crowd in a big +city." + +Pollyanna frowned and pondered. + +"Is it? I don't see how it can be. I don't see how you can be lonesome +when you've got folks all around you. Still--" she hesitated, and the +frown deepened. "I WAS lonesome this afternoon, and there WERE folks +all around me; only they didn't seem to--to think--or notice." + +The pretty girl smiled bitterly. + +"That's just it. They don't ever think--or notice, crowds don't." + +"But some folks do. We can be glad some do," urged Pollyanna. "Now +when I--" + +"Oh, yes, some do," interrupted the other. As she spoke she shivered +and looked fearfully down the path beyond Pollyanna. "Some notice--too +much." + +Pollyanna shrank back in dismay. Repeated rebuffs that afternoon had +given her a new sensitiveness. + +"Do you mean--me?" she stammered. "That you wished I +hadn't--noticed--you?" + +"No, no, kiddie! I meant--some one quite different from you. Some one +that hadn't ought to notice. I was glad to have you speak, only--I +thought at first it was some one from home." + +"Oh, then you don't live here, either, any more than I do--I mean, for +keeps." + +"Oh, yes, I live here now," sighed the girl; "that is, if you can call +it living--what I do." + +"What do you do?" asked Pollyanna interestedly. + +"Do? I'll tell you what I do," cried the other, with sudden +bitterness. "From morning till night I sell fluffy laces and perky +bows to girls that laugh and talk and KNOW each other. Then I go home +to a little back room up three flights just big enough to hold a lumpy +cot-bed, a washstand with a nicked pitcher, one rickety chair, and me. +It's like a furnace in the summer and an ice box in the winter; but +it's all the place I've got, and I'm supposed to stay in it--when I +ain't workin'. But I've come out to-day. I ain't goin' to stay in that +room, and I ain't goin' to go to any old library to read, neither. +It's our last half-holiday this year--and an extra one, at that; and +I'm going to have a good time--for once. I'm just as young, and I like +to laugh and joke just as well as them girls I sell bows to all day. +Well, to-day I'm going to laugh and joke." + +Pollyanna smiled and nodded her approval. + +"I'm glad you feel that way. I do, too. It's a lot more fun--to be +happy, isn't it? Besides, the Bible tells us to;--rejoice and be glad, +I mean. It tells us to eight hundred times. Probably you know about +'em, though--the rejoicing texts." + +The pretty girl shook her head. A queer look came to her face. + +"Well, no," she said dryly. "I can't say I WAS thinkin'--of the +Bible." + +"Weren't you? Well, maybe not; but, you see, MY father was a minister, +and he--" + +"A MINISTER?" + +"Yes. Why, was yours, too?" cried Pollyanna, answering something she +saw in the other's face. + +"Y-yes." A faint color crept up to the girl's forehead. + +"Oh, and has he gone like mine to be with God and the angels?" + +The girl turned away her head. + +"No. He's still living--back home," she answered, half under her +breath. + +"Oh, how glad you must be," sighed Pollyanna, enviously. "Sometimes I +get to thinking, if only I could just SEE father once--but you do see +your father, don't you?" + +"Not often. You see, I'm down--here." + +"But you CAN see him--and I can't, mine. He's gone to be with mother +and the rest of us up in Heaven, and-- Have you got a mother, too--an +earth mother?" + +"Y-yes." The girl stirred restlessly, and half moved as if to go. + +"Oh, then you can see both of them," breathed Pollyanna, unutterable +longing in her face. "Oh, how glad you must be! For there just isn't +anybody, is there, that really CARES and notices quite so much as +fathers and mothers. You see I know, for I had a father until I was +eleven years old; but, for a mother, I had Ladies' Aiders for ever so +long, till Aunt Polly took me. Ladies' Aiders are lovely, but of +course they aren't like mothers, or even Aunt Pollys; and--" + +On and on Pollyanna talked. Pollyanna was in her element now. +Pollyanna loved to talk. That there was anything strange or unwise or +even unconventional in this intimate telling of her thoughts and her +history to a total stranger on a Boston park bench did not once occur +to Pollyanna. To Pollyanna all men, women, and children were friends, +either known or unknown; and thus far she had found the unknown quite +as delightful as the known, for with them there was always the +excitement of mystery and adventure--while they were changing from the +unknown to the known. + +To this young girl at her side, therefore, Pollyanna talked +unreservedly of her father, her Aunt Polly, her Western home, and her +journey East to Vermont. She told of new friends and old friends, and +of course she told of the game. Pollyanna almost always told everybody +of the game, either sooner or later. It was, indeed, so much a part of +her very self that she could hardly have helped telling of it. + +As for the girl--she said little. She was not now sitting in her old +listless attitude, however, and to her whole self had come a marked +change. The flushed cheeks, frowning brow, troubled eyes, and +nervously working fingers were plainly the signs of some inward +struggle. From time to time she glanced apprehensively down the path +beyond Pollyanna, and it was after such a glance that she clutched the +little girl's arm. + +"See here, kiddie, for just a minute don't you leave me. Do you hear? +Stay right where you are? There's a man I know comin'; but no matter +what he says, don't you pay no attention, and DON'T YOU GO. I'm goin' +to stay with YOU. See?" + +Before Pollyanna could more than gasp her wonderment and surprise, she +found herself looking up into the face of a very handsome young +gentleman, who had stopped before them. + +"Oh, here you are," he smiled pleasantly, lifting his hat to +Pollyanna's companion. "I'm afraid I'll have to begin with an +apology--I'm a little late." + +"It don't matter, sir," said the young girl, speaking hurriedly. +"I--I've decided not to go." + +The young man gave a light laugh. + +"Oh, come, my clear, don't be hard on a chap because he's a little +late!" + +"It isn't that, really," defended the girl, a swift red flaming into +her cheeks. "I mean--I'm not going." + +"Nonsense!" The man stopped smiling. He spoke sharply. "You said +yesterday you'd go." + +"I know; but I've changed my mind. I told my little friend here--I'd +stay with her." + +"Oh, but if you'd rather go with this nice young gentleman," began +Pollyanna, anxiously; but she fell back silenced at the look the girl +gave her. + +"I tell you I had NOT rather go. I'm not going." + +"And, pray, why this sudden right-about face?" demanded the young man +with an expression that made him suddenly look, to Pollyanna, not +quite so handsome. "Yesterday you said--" + +"I know I did," interrupted the girl, feverishly. "But I knew then +that I hadn't ought to. Let's call it--that I know it even better now. +That's all." And she turned away resolutely. + +It was not all. The man spoke again, twice. He coaxed, then he sneered +with a hateful look in his eyes. At last he said something very low +and angry, which Pollyanna did not understand. The next moment he +wheeled about and strode away. + +The girl watched him tensely till he passed quite out of sight, then, +relaxing, she laid a shaking hand on Pollyanna's arm. + +"Thanks, kiddie. I reckon I owe you--more than you know. Good-by." + +"But you aren't going away NOW!" bemoaned Pollyanna. + +The girl sighed wearily. + +"I got to. He might come back, and next time I might not be able to--" +She clipped the words short and rose to her feet. For a moment she +hesitated, then she choked bitterly: "You see, he's the kind +that--notices too much, and that hadn't ought to notice--ME--at all!" +With that she was gone. + +"Why, what a funny lady," murmured Pollyanna, looking wistfully after +the vanishing figure. "She was nice, but she was sort of different, +too," she commented, rising to her feet and moving idly down the path. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +JERRY TO THE RESCUE + + +It was not long before Pollyanna reached the edge of the Garden at a +corner where two streets crossed. It was a wonderfully interesting +corner, with its hurrying cars, automobiles, carriages and +pedestrians. A huge red bottle in a drug-store window caught her eye, +and from down the street came the sound of a hurdy-gurdy. Hesitating +only a moment Pollyanna darted across the corner and skipped lightly +down the street toward the entrancing music. + +Pollyanna found much to interest her now. In the store windows were +marvelous objects, and around the hurdy-gurdy, when she had reached +it, she found a dozen dancing children, most fascinating to watch. So +altogether delightful, indeed, did this pastime prove to be that +Pollyanna followed the hurdy-gurdy for some distance, just to see +those children dance. Presently she found herself at a corner so busy +that a very big man in a belted blue coat helped the people across the +street. For an absorbed minute she watched him in silence; then, a +little timidly, she herself started to cross. + +It was a wonderful experience. The big, blue-coated man saw her at +once and promptly beckoned to her. He even walked to meet her. Then, +through a wide lane with puffing motors and impatient horses on either +hand, she walked unscathed to the further curb. It gave her a +delightful sensation, so delightful that, after a minute, she walked +back. Twice again, after short intervals, she trod the fascinating way +so magically opened at the lifting of the big man's hand. But the last +time her conductor left her at the curb, he gave a puzzled frown. + +[Illustration: "Twice again, after short intervals, she trod the +fascinating way"] + +"See here, little girl, ain't you the same one what crossed a minute +ago?" he demanded. "And again before that?" + +"Yes, sir," beamed Pollyanna. "I've been across four times!" + +"Well!" the officer began to bluster; but Pollyanna was still talking. + +"And it's been nicer every time!" + +"Oh-h, it has--has it?" mumbled the big man, lamely. Then, with a +little more spirit he sputtered: "What do you think I'm here for--just +to tote you back and forth?" + +"Oh, no, sir," dimpled Pollyanna. "Of course you aren't just for me! +There are all these others. I know what you are. You're a policeman. +We've got one of you out where I live at Mrs. Carew's, only he's the +kind that just walks on the sidewalk, you know. I used to think you +were soldiers, on account of your gold buttons and blue hats; but I +know better now. Only I think you ARE a kind of a soldier, 'cause +you're so brave--standing here like this, right in the middle of all +these teams and automobiles, helping folks across." + +"Ho--ho! Brrrr!" spluttered the big man, coloring like a schoolboy and +throwing back his head with a hearty laugh. "Ho--ho! Just as if--" He +broke off with a quick lifting of his hand. The next moment he was +escorting a plainly very much frightened little old lady from curb to +curb. If his step were a bit more pompous, and his chest a bit more +full, it must have been only an unconscious tribute to the watching +eyes of the little girl back at the starting-point. A moment later, +with a haughtily permissive wave of his hand toward the chafing +drivers and chauffeurs, he strolled back to Pollyanna. + +"Oh, that was splendid!" she greeted him, with shining eyes. "I love +to see you do it--and it's just like the Children of Israel crossing +the Red Sea, isn't it?--with you holding back the waves for the people +to cross. And how glad you must be all the time, that you can do it! I +used to think being a doctor was the very gladdest business there was, +but I reckon, after all, being a policeman is gladder yet--to help +frightened people like this, you know. And--" But with another +"Brrrr!" and an embarrassed laugh, the big blue-coated man was back in +the middle of the street, and Pollyanna was all alone on the +curbstone. + +For only a minute longer did Pollyanna watch her fascinating "Red +Sea," then, with a regretful backward glance, she turned away. + +"I reckon maybe I'd better be going home now," she meditated. "It must +be 'most dinner time." And briskly she started to walk back by the way +she had come. + +Not until she had hesitated at several corners, and unwittingly made +two false turns, did Pollyanna grasp the fact that "going back home" +was not to be so easy as she had thought it to be. And not until she +came to a building which she knew she had never seen before, did she +fully realize that she had lost her way. + +She was on a narrow street, dirty, and ill-paved. Dingy tenement +blocks and a few unattractive stores were on either side. All about +were jabbering men and chattering women--though not one word of what +they said could Pollyanna understand. Moreover, she could not help +seeing that the people looked at her very curiously, as if they knew +she did not belong there. + +Several times, already, she had asked her way, but in vain. No one +seemed to know where Mrs. Carew lived; and, the last two times, those +addressed had answered with a gesture and a jumble of words which +Pollyanna, after some thought, decided must be "Dutch," the kind the +Haggermans--the only foreign family in Beldingsville--used. + +On and on, down one street and up another, Pollyanna trudged. She was +thoroughly frightened now. She was hungry, too, and very tired. Her +feet ached, and her eyes smarted with the tears she was trying so hard +to hold back. Worse yet, it was unmistakably beginning to grow dark. + +"Well, anyhow," she choked to herself, "I'm going to be glad I'm lost, +'cause it'll be so nice when I get found. I CAN be glad for that!" + +It was at a noisy corner where two broader streets crossed that +Pollyanna finally came to a dismayed stop. This time the tears quite +overflowed, so that, lacking a handkerchief, she had to use the backs +of both hands to wipe them away. + +"Hullo, kid, why the weeps?" queried a cheery voice. "What's up?" + +With a relieved little cry Pollyanna turned to confront a small boy +carrying a bundle of newspapers under his arm. + +"Oh, I'm so glad to see you!" she exclaimed. "I've so wanted to see +some one who didn't talk Dutch!" + +The small boy grinned. + +"Dutch nothin'!" he scoffed. "You mean Dago, I bet ye." + +Pollyanna gave a slight frown. + +"Well, anyway, it--it wasn't English," she said doubtfully; "and they +couldn't answer my questions. But maybe you can. Do you know where +Mrs. Carew lives?" + +"Nix! You can search me." + +"Wha-at?" queried Pollyanna, still more doubtfully. + +The boy grinned again. + +"I say not in mine. I guess I ain't acquainted with the lady." + +"But isn't there anybody anywhere that is?" implored Pollyanna. "You +see, I just went out for a walk and I got lost. I've been ever and +ever so far, but I can't find the house at all; and it's supper--I +mean dinner time and getting dark. I want to get back. I MUST get +back." + +"Gee! Well, I should worry!" sympathized the boy. + +"Yes, and I'm afraid Mrs. Carew'll worry, too," sighed Pollyanna. + +"Gorry! if you ain't the limit," chuckled the youth, unexpectedly. +"But, say, listen! Don't ye know the name of the street ye want?" + +"No--only that it's some kind of an avenue," desponded Pollyanna. + +"A avenOO, is it? Sure, now, some class to that! We're doin' fine. +What's the number of the house? Can ye tell me that? Just scratch your +head!" + +"Scratch--my--head?" Pollyanna frowned questioningly, and raised a +tentative hand to her hair. + +The boy eyed her with disdain. + +"Aw, come off yer perch! Ye ain't so dippy as all that. I say, don't +ye know the number of the house ye want?" + +"N-no, except there's a seven in it," returned Pollyanna, with a +faintly hopeful air. + +"Won't ye listen ter that?" gibed the scornful youth. "There's a seven +in it--an' she expects me ter know it when I see it!" + +"Oh, I should know the house, if I could only see it," declared +Pollyanna, eagerly; "and I think I'd know the street, too, on account +of the lovely long yard running right up and down through the middle +of it." + +This time it was the boy who gave a puzzled frown. + +"YARD?" he queried, "in the middle of a street?" + +"Yes--trees and grass, you know, with a walk in the middle of it, and +seats, and--" But the boy interrupted her with a whoop of delight. + +"Gee whiz! Commonwealth Avenue, sure as yer livin'! Wouldn't that get +yer goat, now?" + +"Oh, do you know--do you, really?" besought Pollyanna. "That sounded +like it--only I don't know what you meant about the goat part. There +aren't any goats there. I don't think they'd allow--" + +"Goats nothin'!" scoffed the boy. "You bet yer sweet life I know where +'tis! Don't I tote Sir James up there to the Garden 'most ev'ry day? +An' I'll take YOU, too. Jest ye hang out here till I get on ter my job +again, an' sell out my stock. Then we'll make tracks for that 'ere +Avenue 'fore ye can say Jack Robinson." + +"You mean you'll take me--home?" appealed Pollyanna, still plainly not +quite understanding. + +"Sure! It's a cinch--if you know the house." + +"Oh, yes, I know the house," replied the literal Pollyanna, anxiously, +"but I don't know whether it's a--a cinch, or not. If it isn't, can't +you--" + +But the boy only threw her another disdainful glance and darted off +into the thick of the crowd. A moment later Pollyanna heard his +strident call of "paper, paper! Herald, Globe,--paper, sir?" + +With a sigh of relief Pollyanna stepped back into a doorway and +waited. She was tired, but she was happy. In spite of sundry puzzling +aspects of the case, she yet trusted the boy, and she had perfect +confidence that he could take her home. + +"He's nice, and I like him," she said to herself, following with her +eyes the boy's alert, darting figure. "But he does talk funny. His +words SOUND English, but some of them don't seem to make any sense +with the rest of what he says. But then, I'm glad he found me, +anyway," she finished with a contented little sigh. + +It was not long before the boy returned, his hands empty. + +"Come on, kid. All aboard," he called cheerily. "Now we'll hit the +trail for the Avenue. If I was the real thing, now, I'd tote ye home +in style in a buzzwagon; but seein' as how I hain't got the dough, +we'll have ter hoof it." + +It was, for the most part, a silent walk. Pollyanna, for once in her +life, was too tired to talk, even of the Ladies' Aiders; and the boy +was intent on picking out the shortest way to his goal. When the +Public Garden was reached, Pollyanna did exclaim joyfully: + +"Oh, now I'm 'most there! I remember this place. I had a perfectly +lovely time here this afternoon. It's only a little bit of a ways home +now." + +"That's the stuff! Now we're gettin' there," crowed the boy. "What'd I +tell ye? We'll just cut through here to the Avenue, an' then it'll be +up ter you ter find the house." + +"Oh, I can find the house," exulted Pollyanna, with all the confidence +of one who has reached familiar ground. + +It was quite dark when Pollyanna led the way up the broad Carew steps. +The boy's ring at the bell was very quickly answered, and Pollyanna +found herself confronted by not only Mary, but by Mrs. Carew, Bridget, +and Jennie as well. All four of the women were white-faced and +anxious-eyed. + +"Child, child, where HAVE you been?" demanded Mrs. Carew, hurrying +forward. + +"Why, I--I just went to walk," began Pollyanna, "and I got lost, and +this boy--" + +"Where did you find her?" cut in Mrs. Carew, turning imperiously to +Pollyanna's escort, who was, at the moment, gazing in frank admiration +at the wonders about him in the brilliantly-lighted hall. + +"Where did you find her, boy?" she repeated sharply. + +For a brief moment the boy met her gaze unflinchingly; then something +very like a twinkle came into his eyes, though his voice, when he +spoke, was gravity itself. + +"Well, I found her 'round Bowdoin Square, but I reckon she'd been +doin' the North End, only she couldn't catch on ter the lingo of the +Dagos, so I don't think she give 'em the glad hand, ma'am." + +"The North End--that child--alone! Pollyanna!" shuddered Mrs. Carew. + +"Oh, I wasn't alone, Mrs. Carew," fended Pollyanna. "There were ever +and ever so many people there, weren't there, boy?" + +But the boy, with an impish grin, was disappearing through the door. + +Pollyanna learned many things during the next half-hour. She learned +that nice little girls do not take long walks alone in unfamiliar +cities, nor sit on park benches and talk to strangers. She learned, +also, that it was only by a "perfectly marvelous miracle" that she had +reached home at all that night, and that she had escaped many, many +very disagreeable consequences of her foolishness. She learned that +Boston was not Beldingsville, and that she must not think it was. + +"But, Mrs. Carew," she finally argued despairingly, "I AM here, and I +didn't get lost for keeps. Seems as if I ought to be glad for that +instead of thinking all the time of the sorry things that might have +happened." + +"Yes, yes, child, I suppose so, I suppose so," sighed Mrs. Carew; "but +you have given me such a fright, and I want you to be sure, SURE, SURE +never to do it again. Now come, dear, you must be hungry." + +It was just as she was dropping off to sleep that night that Pollyanna +murmured drowsily to herself: + +"The thing I'm the very sorriest for of anything is that I didn't ask +that boy his name nor where he lived. Now I can't ever say thank you +to him!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +A NEW ACQUAINTANCE + + +Pollyanna's movements were most carefully watched over after her +adventurous walk; and, except to go to school, she was not allowed out +of the house unless Mary or Mrs. Carew herself accompanied her. This, +to Pollyanna, however, was no cross, for she loved both Mrs. Carew and +Mary, and delighted to be with them. They were, too, for a while, very +generous with their time. Even Mrs. Carew, in her terror of what might +have happened, and her relief that it had not happened, exerted +herself to entertain the child. + +Thus it came about that, with Mrs. Carew, Pollyanna attended concerts +and matinees, and visited the Public Library and the Art Museum; and +with Mary she took the wonderful "seeing Boston" trips, and visited +the State House and the Old South Church. + +Greatly as Pollyanna enjoyed the automobile, she enjoyed the trolley +cars more, as Mrs. Carew, much to her surprise, found out one day. + +"Do we go in the trolley car?" Pollyanna asked eagerly. + +"No. Perkins will take us," answered Mrs. Carew. Then, at the +unmistakable disappointment in Pollyanna's face, she added in +surprise: "Why, I thought you liked the auto, child!" + +"Oh, I do," acceded Pollyanna, hurriedly; "and I wouldn't say +anything, anyway, because of course I know it's cheaper than the +trolley car, and--" + +"'Cheaper than the trolley car'!" exclaimed Mrs. Carew, amazed into an +interruption. + +"Why, yes," explained Pollyanna, with widening eyes; "the trolley car +costs five cents a person, you know, and the auto doesn't cost +anything, 'cause it's yours. And of course I LOVE the auto, anyway," +she hurried on, before Mrs. Carew could speak. "It's only that there +are so many more people in the trolley car, and it's such fun to watch +them! Don't you think so?" + +"Well, no, Pollyanna, I can't say that I do," responded Mrs. Carew, +dryly, as she turned away. + +As it chanced, not two days later, Mrs. Carew heard something more of +Pollyanna and trolley cars--this time from Mary. + +"I mean, it's queer, ma'am," explained Mary earnestly, in answer to a +question her mistress had asked, "it's queer how Miss Pollyanna just +gets 'round EVERYBODY--and without half trying. It isn't that she DOES +anything. She doesn't. She just--just looks glad, I guess, that's all. +But I've seen her get into a trolley car that was full of +cross-looking men and women, and whimpering children, and in five +minutes you wouldn't know the place. The men and women have stopped +scowling, and the children have forgot what they're cryin' for. + +"Sometimes it's just somethin' that Miss Pollyanna has said to me, and +they've heard it. Sometimes it's just the 'Thank you,' she gives when +somebody insists on givin' us their seat--and they're always doin' +that--givin' us seats, I mean. And sometimes it's the way she smiles +at a baby or a dog. All dogs everywhere wag their tails at her, +anyway, and all babies, big and little, smile and reach out to her. If +we get held up it's a joke, and if we take the wrong car, it's the +funniest thing that ever happened. And that's the way 'tis about +everythin'. One just can't stay grumpy, with Miss Pollyanna, even if +you're only one of a trolley car full of folks that don't know her." + +"Hm-m; very likely," murmured Mrs. Carew, turning away. + +October proved to be, that year, a particularly warm, delightful +month, and as the golden days came and went, it was soon very evident +that to keep up with Pollyanna's eager little feet was a task which +would consume altogether too much of somebody's time and patience; +and, while Mrs. Carew had the one, she had not the other, neither had +she the willingness to allow Mary to spend quite so much of HER time +(whatever her patience might be) in dancing attendance to Pollyanna's +whims and fancies. + +To keep the child indoors all through those glorious October +afternoons was, of course, out of the question. Thus it came about +that, before long, Pollyanna found herself once more in the "lovely +big yard"--the Boston Public Garden--and alone. Apparently she was as +free as before, but in reality she was surrounded by a high stone wall +of regulations. + +She must not talk to strange men or women; she must not play with +strange children; and under no circumstances must she step foot +outside the Garden except to come home. Furthermore, Mary, who had +taken her to the Garden and left her, made very sure that she knew the +way home--that she knew just where Commonwealth Avenue came down to +Arlington Street across from the Garden. And always she must go home +when the clock in the church tower said it was half-past four. + +Pollyanna went often to the Garden after this. Occasionally she went +with some of the girls from school. More often she went alone. In +spite of the somewhat irksome restrictions she enjoyed herself very +much. She could WATCH the people even if she could not talk to them; +and she could talk to the squirrels and pigeons and sparrows that so +eagerly came for the nuts and grain which she soon learned to carry to +them every time she went. + +Pollyanna often looked for her old friends of that first day--the man +who was so glad he had his eyes and legs and arms, and the pretty +young lady who would not go with the handsome man; but she never saw +them. She did frequently see the boy in the wheel chair, and she +wished she could talk to him. The boy fed the birds and squirrels, +too, and they were so tame that the doves would perch on his head and +shoulders, and the squirrels would burrow in his pockets for nuts. But +Pollyanna, watching from a distance, always noticed one strange +circumstance: in spite of the boy's very evident delight in serving +his banquet, his supply of food always ran short almost at once; and +though he invariably looked fully as disappointed as did the squirrel +after a nutless burrowing, yet he never remedied the matter by +bringing more food the next day--which seemed most short-sighted to +Pollyanna. + +When the boy was not playing with the birds and squirrels he was +reading--always reading. In his chair were usually two or three worn +books, and sometimes a magazine or two. He was nearly always to be +found in one especial place, and Pollyanna used to wonder how he got +there. Then, one unforgettable day, she found out. It was a school +holiday, and she had come to the Garden in the forenoon; and it was +soon after she reached the place that she saw him being wheeled along +one of the paths by a snub-nosed, sandy-haired boy. She gave a keen +glance into the sandy-haired boy's face, then ran toward him with a +glad little cry. + +"Oh, you--you! I know you--even if I don't know your name. You found +me! Don't you remember? Oh, I'm so glad to see you! I've so wanted to +say thank you!" + +"Gee, if it ain't the swell little lost kid of the AveNOO!" grinned +the boy. "Well, what do you know about that! Lost again?" + +"Oh, no!" exclaimed Pollyanna, dancing up and down on her toes in +irrepressible joy. "I can't get lost any more--I have to stay right +here. And I mustn't talk, you know. But I can to you, for I KNOW you; +and I can to him--after you introduce me," she finished, with a +beaming glance at the lame boy, and a hopeful pause. + +The sandy-haired youth chuckled softly, and tapped the shoulder of the +boy in the chair. + +"Listen ter that, will ye? Ain't that the real thing, now? Just you +wait while I introDOOCE ye!" And he struck a pompous attitude. "Madam, +this is me friend, Sir James, Lord of Murphy's Alley, and--" But the +boy in the chair interrupted him. + +"Jerry, quit your nonsense!" he cried vexedly. Then to Pollyanna he +turned a glowing face. "I've seen you here lots of times before. I've +watched you feed the birds and squirrels--you always have such a lot +for them! And I think YOU like Sir Lancelot the best, too. Of course, +there's the Lady Rowena--but wasn't she rude to Guinevere +yesterday--snatching her dinner right away from her like that?" + +Pollyanna blinked and frowned, looking from one to the other of the +boys in plain doubt. Jerry chuckled again. Then, with a final push he +wheeled the chair into its usual position, and turned to go. Over his +shoulder he called to Pollyanna: + +"Say, kid, jest let me put ye wise ter somethin'. This chap ain't +drunk nor crazy. See? Them's jest names he's give his young friends +here,"--with a flourish of his arms toward the furred and feathered +creatures that were gathering from all directions. "An' they ain't +even names of FOLKS. They're just guys out of books. Are ye on? Yet +he'd ruther feed them than feed hisself. Ain't he the limit? Ta-ta, +Sir James," he added, with a grimace, to the boy in the chair. "Buck +up, now--nix on the no grub racket for you! See you later." And he was +gone. + +Pollyanna was still blinking and frowning when the lame boy turned +with a smile. + +"You mustn't mind Jerry. That's just his way. He'd cut off his right +hand for me--Jerry would; but he loves to tease. Where'd you see him? +Does he know you? He didn't tell me your name." + +"I'm Pollyanna Whittier. I was lost and he found me and took me home," +answered Pollyanna, still a little dazedly. + +"I see. Just like him," nodded the boy. "Don't he tote me up here +every day?" + +A quick sympathy came to Pollyanna's eyes. + +"Can't you walk--at all--er--Sir J-James?" + +The boy laughed gleefully. + +"'Sir James,' indeed! That's only more of Jerry's nonsense. I ain't a +'Sir.'" + +Pollyanna looked clearly disappointed. + +"You aren't? Nor a--a lord, like he said?" + +"I sure ain't." + +"Oh, I hoped you were--like Little Lord Fauntleroy, you know," +rejoined Pollyanna. "And--" + +But the boy interrupted her with an eager: + +"Do YOU know Little Lord Fauntleroy? And do you know about Sir +Lancelot, and the Holy Grail, and King Arthur and his Round Table, and +the Lady Rowena, and Ivanhoe, and all those? DO you?" + +Pollyanna gave her head a dubious shake. + +"Well, I'm afraid maybe I don't know ALL of 'em," she admitted. "Are +they all--in books?" + +The boy nodded. + +"I've got 'em here--some of 'em," he said. "I like to read 'em over +and over. There's always SOMETHING new in 'em. Besides, I hain't got +no others, anyway. These were father's. Here, you little rascal--quit +that!" he broke off in laughing reproof as a bushy-tailed squirrel +leaped to his lap and began to nose in his pockets. "Gorry, guess we'd +better give them their dinner or they'll be tryin' to eat us," +chuckled the boy. "That's Sir Lancelot. He's always first, you know." + +From somewhere the boy produced a small pasteboard box which he opened +guardedly, mindful of the numberless bright little eyes that were +watching every move. All about him now sounded the whir and flutter of +wings, the cooing of doves, the saucy twitter of the sparrows. Sir +Lancelot, alert and eager, occupied one arm of the wheel chair. +Another bushy-tailed little fellow, less venturesome, sat back on his +haunches five feet away. A third squirrel chattered noisily on a +neighboring tree-branch. + +From the box the boy took a few nuts, a small roll, and a doughnut. At +the latter he looked longingly, hesitatingly. + +"Did you--bring anything?" he asked then. + +"Lots--in here," nodded Pollyanna, tapping the paper bag she carried. + +"Oh, then perhaps I WILL eat it to-day," sighed the boy, dropping the +doughnut back into the box with an air of relief. + +Pollyanna, on whom the significance of this action was quite lost, +thrust her fingers into her own bag, and the banquet was on. + +It was a wonderful hour. To Pollyanna it was, in a way, the most +wonderful hour she had ever spent, for she had found some one who +could talk faster and longer than she could. This strange youth seemed +to have an inexhaustible fund of marvelous stories of brave knights +and fair ladies, of tournaments and battles. Moreover, so vividly did +he draw his pictures that Pollyanna saw with her own eyes the deeds of +valor, the knights in armor, and the fair ladies with their jeweled +gowns and tresses, even though she was really looking at a flock of +fluttering doves and sparrows and a group of frisking squirrels on a +wide sweep of sunlit grass. + +[Illustration: "It was a wonderful hour"] + +The Ladies' Aiders were forgotten. Even the glad game was not thought +of. Pollyanna, with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes was trailing +down the golden ages led by a romance-fed boy who--though she did not +know it--was trying to crowd into this one short hour of congenial +companionship countless dreary days of loneliness and longing. + +Not until the noon bells sent Pollyanna hurrying homeward did she +remember that she did not even yet know the boy's name. + +"I only know it isn't 'Sir James,'" she sighed to herself, frowning +with vexation. "But never mind. I can ask him to-morrow." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +JAMIE + + +Pollyanna did not see the boy "to-morrow." It rained, and she could +not go to the Garden at all. It rained the next day, too. Even on the +third day she did not see him, for, though the sun came out bright and +warm, and though she went very early in the afternoon to the Garden +and waited long, he did not come at all. But on the fourth day he was +there in his old place, and Pollyanna hastened forward with a joyous +greeting. + +"Oh, I'm so glad, GLAD to see you! But where've you been? You weren't +here yesterday at all." + +"I couldn't. The pain wouldn't let me come yesterday," explained the +lad, who was looking very white. + +"The PAIN! Oh, does it--ache?" stammered Pollyanna, all sympathy at +once. + +"Oh, yes, always," nodded the boy, with a cheerfully matter-of-fact +air. "Most generally I can stand it and come here just the same, +except when it gets TOO bad, same as 'twas yesterday. Then I can't." + +"But how can you stand it--to have it ache--always?" gasped Pollyanna. + +"Why, I have to," answered the boy, opening his eyes a little wider. +"Things that are so are SO, and they can't be any other way. So what's +the use thinking how they might be? Besides, the harder it aches one +day, the nicer 'tis to have it let-up the next." + +"I know! That's like the ga--" began Pollyanna; but the boy +interrupted her. + +"Did you bring a lot this time?" he asked anxiously. "Oh, I hope you +did! You see I couldn't bring them any to-day. Jerry couldn't spare +even a penny for peanuts this morning and there wasn't really enough +stuff in the box for me this noon." + +Pollyanna looked shocked. + +"You mean--that you didn't have enough to eat--yourself?--for YOUR +luncheon?" + +"Sure!" smiled the boy. "But don't worry. Tisn't the first time--and +'twon't be the last. I'm used to it. Hi, there! here comes Sir +Lancelot." + +Pollyanna, however, was not thinking of squirrels. + +"And wasn't there any more at home?" + +"Oh, no, there's NEVER any left at home," laughed the boy. "You see, +mumsey works out--stairs and washings--so she gets some of her feed in +them places, and Jerry picks his up where he can, except nights and +mornings; he gets it with us then--if we've got any." + +Pollyanna looked still more shocked. + +"But what do you do when you don't have anything to eat?" + +"Go hungry, of course." + +"But I never HEARD of anybody who didn't have ANYTHING to eat," gasped +Pollyanna. "Of course father and I were poor, and we had to eat beans +and fish balls when we wanted turkey. But we had SOMETHING. Why don't +you tell folks--all these folks everywhere, that live in these houses?" + +"What's the use?" + +"Why, they'd give you something, of course!" + +The boy laughed once more, this time a little queerly. + +"Guess again, kid. You've got another one coming. Nobody I know is +dishin' out roast beef and frosted cakes for the askin'. Besides, if +you didn't go hungry once in a while, you wouldn't know how good +'taters and milk can taste; and you wouldn't have so much to put in +your Jolly Book." + +"Your WHAT?" + +The boy gave an embarrassed laugh and grew suddenly red. + +"Forget it! I didn't think, for a minute, but you was mumsey or +Jerry." + +"But what IS your Jolly Book?" pleaded Pollyanna. "Please tell me. Are +there knights and lords and ladies in that?" + +The boy shook his head. His eyes lost their laughter and grew dark and +fathomless. + +"No; I wish't there was," he sighed wistfully. "But when you--you +can't even WALK, you can't fight battles and win trophies, and have +fair ladies hand you your sword, and bestow upon you the golden +guerdon." A sudden fire came to the boy's eyes. His chin lifted itself +as if in response to a bugle call. Then, as suddenly, the fire died, +and the boy fell back into his old listlessness. + +"You just can't do nothin'," he resumed wearily, after a moment's +silence. "You just have to sit and think; and times like that your +THINK gets to be something awful. Mine did, anyhow. I wanted to go to +school and learn things--more things than just mumsey can teach me; +and I thought of that. I wanted to run and play ball with the other +boys; and I thought of that. I wanted to go out and sell papers with +Jerry; and I thought of that. I didn't want to be taken care of all my +life; and I thought of that." + +"I know, oh, I know," breathed Pollyanna, with shining eyes. "Didn't I +lose MY legs for a while?" + +"Did you? Then you do know, some. But you've got yours again. I +hain't, you know," sighed the boy, the shadow in his eyes deepening. + +"But you haven't told me yet about--the Jolly Book," prompted +Pollyanna, after a minute. + +The boy stirred and laughed shamefacedly. + +"Well, you see, it ain't much, after all, except to me. YOU wouldn't +see much in it. I started it a year ago. I was feelin' 'specially bad +that day. Nothin' was right. For a while I grumped it out, just +thinkin'; and then I picked up one of father's books and tried to +read. And the first thing I see was this: I learned it afterwards, so +I can say it now. + + "'Pleasures lie thickest where no pleasures seem; + There's not a leaf that falls upon the ground + But holds some joy, of silence or of sound.' + +[Footnote: Blanchard. Lyric Offerings. Hidden Joys.] + +"Well, I was mad. I wished I could put the guy that wrote that in my +place, and see what kind of joy he'd find in my 'leaves.' I was so mad +I made up my mind I'd prove he didn't know what he was talkin' about, +so I begun to hunt for 'em--the joys in my 'leaves,' you know. I took +a little old empty notebook that Jerry had given me, and I said to +myself that I'd write 'em down. Everythin' that had anythin' about it +that I liked I'd put down in the book. Then I'd just show how many +'joys' I had." + +"Yes, yes!" cried Pollyanna, absorbedly, as the boy paused for breath. + +"Well, I didn't expect to get many, but--do you know?--I got a lot. +There was somethin' about 'most everythin' that I liked a LITTLE, so +in it had to go. The very first one was the book itself--that I'd got +it, you know, to write in. Then somebody give me a flower in a pot, +and Jerry found a dandy book in the subway. After that it was really +fun to hunt 'em out--I'd find 'em in such queer places, sometimes. +Then one day Jerry got hold of the little notebook, and found out what +'twas. Then he give it its name--the Jolly Book. And--and that's all." + +"All--ALL!" cried Pollyanna, delight and amazement struggling for the +mastery on her glowing little face. "Why, that's the game! You're +playing the glad game, and don't know it--only you're playing it ever +and ever so much better than I ever could! Why, I--I couldn't play it +at all, I'm afraid, if I--I didn't have enough to eat, and couldn't +ever walk, or anything," she choked. + +"The game? What game? I don't know anything about any game," frowned +the boy. + +Pollyanna clapped her hands. + +"I know you don't--I know you don't, and that's why it's so perfectly +lovely, and so--so wonderful! But listen. I'll tell you what the game +is." + +And she told him. + +"Gee!" breathed the boy appreciatively, when she had finished. "Now +what do you think of that!" + +"And here you are, playing MY game better than anybody I ever saw, and +I don't even know your name yet, nor anything!" exclaimed Pollyanna, +in almost awestruck tones. "But I want to;--I want to know +everything." + +"Pooh! there's nothing to know," rejoined the boy, with a shrug. +"Besides, see, here's poor Sir Lancelot and all the rest, waiting for +their dinner," he finished. + +"Dear me, so they are," sighed Pollyanna, glancing impatiently at the +fluttering and chattering creatures all about them. Recklessly she +turned her bag upside down and scattered her supplies to the four +winds. "There, now, that's done, and we can talk again," she rejoiced. +"And there's such a lot I want to know. First, please, what IS your +name? I only know it isn't 'Sir James.'" + +The boy smiled. + +"No, it isn't; but that's what Jerry 'most always calls me. Mumsey and +the rest call me 'Jamie.'" + +"'JAMIE!'" Pollyanna caught her breath and held it suspended. A wild +hope had come to her eyes. It was followed almost instantly, however, +by fearful doubt. + +"Does 'mumsey' mean--mother?" + +"Sure!" + +Pollyanna relaxed visibly. Her face fell. If this Jamie had a mother, +he could not, of course, be Mrs. Carew's Jamie, whose mother had died +long ago. Still, even as he was, he was wonderfully interesting. + +"But where do you live?" she catechized eagerly. "Is there anybody +else in your family but your mother and--and Jerry? Do you always come +here every day? Where is your Jolly Book? Mayn't I see it? Don't the +doctors say you can ever walk again? And where was it you said you got +it?--this wheel chair, I mean." + +The boy chuckled. + +"Say, how many of them questions do you expect me to answer all at +once? I'll begin at the last one, anyhow, and work backwards, maybe, +if I don't forget what they be. I got this chair a year ago. Jerry +knew one of them fellers what writes for papers, you know, and he put +it in about me--how I couldn't ever walk, and all that, and--and the +Jolly Book, you see. The first thing I knew, a whole lot of men and +women come one day toting this chair, and said 'twas for me. That +they'd read all about me, and they wanted me to have it to remember +them by." + +"My! how glad you must have been!" + +"I was. It took a whole page of my Jolly Book to tell about that +chair." + +"But can't you EVER walk again?" Pollyanna's eyes were blurred with +tears. + +"It don't look like it. They said I couldn't." + +"Oh, but that's what they said about me, and then they sent me to Dr. +Ames, and I stayed 'most a year; and HE made me walk. Maybe he could +YOU!" + +The boy shook his head. + +"He couldn't--you see; I couldn't go to him, anyway. 'Twould cost too +much. We'll just have to call it that I can't ever--walk again. But +never mind." The boy threw back his head impatiently. "I'm trying not +to THINK of that. You know what it is when--when your THINK gets to +going." + +"Yes, yes, of course--and here I am talking about it!" cried +Pollyanna, penitently. "I SAID you knew how to play the game better +than I did, now. But go on. You haven't told me half, yet. Where do +you live? And is Jerry all the brothers and sisters you've got?" + +A swift change came to the boy's face. His eyes glowed. + +"Yes--and he ain't mine, really. He ain't any relation, nor mumsey +ain't, neither. And only think how good they've been to me!" + +"What's that?" questioned Pollyanna, instantly on the alert. "Isn't +that--that 'mumsey' your mother at all?" + +"No; and that's what makes--" + +"And haven't you got any mother?" interrupted Pollyanna, in growing +excitement. + +"No; I never remember any mother, and father died six years ago." + +"How old were you?" + +"I don't know. I was little. Mumsey says she guesses maybe I was about +six. That's when they took me, you see." + +"And your name is Jamie?" Pollyanna was holding her breath. + +"Why, yes, I told you that." + +"And what's the other name?" Longingly, but fearfully, Pollyanna asked +this question. + +"I don't know." + +"YOU DON'T KNOW!" + +"I don't remember. I was too little, I suppose. Even the Murphys don't +know. They never knew me as anything but Jamie." + +A great disappointment came to Pollyanna's face, but almost +immediately a flash of thought drove the shadow away. + +"Well, anyhow, if you don't know what your name is, you can't know it +isn't 'Kent'!" she exclaimed. + +"'Kent'?" puzzled the boy. + +"Yes," began Pollyanna, all excitement. "You see, there was a little +boy named Jamie Kent that--" She stopped abruptly and bit her lip. It +had occurred to Pollyanna that it would be kinder not to let this boy +know yet of her hope that he might be the lost Jamie. It would be +better that she make sure of it before raising any expectations, +otherwise she might be bringing him sorrow rather than joy. She had +not forgotten how disappointed Jimmy Bean had been when she had been +obliged to tell him that the Ladies' Aid did not want him, and again +when at first Mr. Pendleton had not wanted him, either. She was +determined that she would not make the same mistake a third time; so +very promptly now she assumed an air of elaborate indifference on this +most dangerous subject, as she said: + +"But never mind about Jamie Kent. Tell me about yourself. I'm SO +interested!" + +"There isn't anything to tell. I don't know anything nice," hesitated +the boy. "They said father was--was queer, and never talked. They +didn't even know his name. Everybody called him 'The Professor.' +Mumsey says he and I lived in a little back room on the top floor of +the house in Lowell where they used to live. They were poor then, but +they wasn't near so poor as they are now. Jerry's father was alive +them days, and had a job." + +"Yes, yes, go on," prompted Pollyanna. + +"Well, mumsey says my father was sick a lot, and he got queerer and +queerer, so that they had me downstairs with them a good deal. I could +walk then, a little, but my legs wasn't right. I played with Jerry, +and the little girl that died. Well, when father died there wasn't +anybody to take me, and some men were goin' to put me in an orphan +asylum; but mumsey says I took on so, and Jerry took on so, that they +said they'd keep me. And they did. The little girl had just died, and +they said I might take her place. And they've had me ever since. And I +fell and got worse, and they're awful poor now, too, besides Jerry's +father dyin'. But they've kept me. Now ain't that what you call bein' +pretty good to a feller?" + +"Yes, oh, yes," cried Pollyanna. "But they'll get their reward--I know +they'll get their reward!" Pollyanna was quivering with delight now. +The last doubt had fled. She had found the lost Jamie. She was sure of +it. But not yet must she speak. First Mrs. Carew must see him. +Then--THEN--! Even Pollyanna's imagination failed when it came to +picturing the bliss in store for Mrs. Carew and Jamie at that glad +reunion. + +She sprang lightly to her feet in utter disregard of Sir Lancelot who +had come back and was nosing in her lap for more nuts. + +"I've got to go now, but I'll come again to-morrow. Maybe I'll have a +lady with me that you'll like to know. You'll be here to-morrow, won't +you?" she finished anxiously. + +"Sure, if it's pleasant. Jerry totes me up here 'most every mornin'. +They fixed it so he could, you know; and I bring my dinner and stay +till four o'clock. Jerry's good to me--he is!" + +"I know, I know," nodded Pollyanna. "And maybe you'll find somebody +else to be good to you, too," she caroled. With which cryptic +statement and a beaming smile, she was gone. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +PLANS AND PLOTTINGS + + +On the way home Pollyanna made joyous plans. To-morrow, in some way or +other, Mrs. Carew must be persuaded to go with her for a walk in the +Public Garden. Just how this was to be brought about Pollyanna did not +know; but brought about it must be. + +To tell Mrs. Carew plainly that she had found Jamie, and wanted her to +go to see him, was out of the question. There was, of course, a bare +chance that this might not be her Jamie; and if it were not, and if +she had thus raised in Mrs. Carew false hopes, the result might be +disastrous. Pollyanna knew, from what Mary had told her, that twice +already Mrs. Carew had been made very ill by the great disappointment +of following alluring clues that had led to some boy very different +from her dead sister's son. So Pollyanna knew that she could not tell +Mrs. Carew why she wanted her to go to walk to-morrow in the Public +Garden. But there would be a way, declared Pollyanna to herself as she +happily hurried homeward. + +Fate, however, as it happened, once more intervened in the shape of a +heavy rainstorm; and Pollyanna did not have to more than look out of +doors the next morning to realize that there would be no Public Garden +stroll that day. Worse yet, neither the next day nor the next saw the +clouds dispelled; and Pollyanna spent all three afternoons wandering +from window to window, peering up into the sky, and anxiously +demanding of every one: "DON'T you think it looks a LITTLE like +clearing up?" + +So unusual was this behavior on the part of the cheery little girl, +and so irritating was the constant questioning, that at last Mrs. +Carew lost her patience. + +"For pity's sake, child, what is the trouble?" she cried. "I never +knew you to fret so about the weather. Where's that wonderful glad +game of yours to-day?" + +Pollyanna reddened and looked abashed. + +"Dear me, I reckon maybe I did forget the game this time," she +admitted. "And of course there IS something about it I can be glad +for, if I'll only hunt for it. I can be glad that--that it will HAVE +to stop raining sometime 'cause God said he WOULDN'T send another +flood. But you see, I did so want it to be pleasant to-day." + +"Why, especially?" + +"Oh, I--I just wanted to go to walk in the Public Garden." Pollyanna +was trying hard to speak unconcernedly. "I--I thought maybe you'd like +to go with me, too." Outwardly Pollyanna was nonchalance itself. +Inwardly, however, she was aquiver with excitement and suspense. + +"_I_ go to walk in the Public Garden?" queried Mrs. Carew, with brows +slightly uplifted. "Thank you, no, I'm afraid not," she smiled. + +"Oh, but you--you wouldn't REFUSE!" faltered Pollyanna, in quick +panic. + +"I have refused." + +Pollyanna swallowed convulsively. She had grown really pale. + +"But, Mrs. Carew, please, PLEASE don't say you WON'T go, when it gets +pleasant," she begged. "You see, for a--a special reason I wanted you +to go--with me--just this once." + +Mrs. Carew frowned. She opened her lips to make the "no" more +decisive; but something in Pollyanna's pleading eyes must have changed +the words, for when they came they were a reluctant acquiescence. + +"Well, well, child, have your own way. But if I promise to go, YOU +must promise not to go near the window for an hour, and not to ask +again to-day if I think it's going to clear up." + +"Yes'm, I will--I mean, I won't," palpitated Pollyanna. Then, as a +pale shaft of light that was almost a sunbeam, came aslant through the +window, she cried joyously: "But you DO think it IS going to--Oh!" she +broke off in dismay, and ran from the room. + +Unmistakably it "cleared up" the next morning. But, though the sun +shone brightly, there was a sharp chill in the air, and by afternoon, +when Pollyanna came home from school, there was a brisk wind. In spite +of protests, however, she insisted that it was a beautiful day out, +and that she should be perfectly miserable if Mrs. Carew would not +come for a walk in the Public Garden. And Mrs. Carew went, though +still protesting. + +As might have been expected, it was a fruitless journey. Together the +impatient woman and the anxious-eyed little girl hurried shiveringly +up one path and down another. (Pollyanna, not finding the boy in his +accustomed place, was making frantic search in every nook and corner +of the Garden. To Pollyanna it seemed that she could not have it so. +Here she was in the Garden, and here with her was Mrs. Carew; but not +anywhere to be found was Jamie--and yet not one word could she say to +Mrs. Carew.) At last, thoroughly chilled and exasperated, Mrs. Carew +insisted on going home; and despairingly Pollyanna went. + +Sorry days came to Pollyanna then. What to her was perilously near a +second deluge--but according to Mrs. Carew was merely "the usual fall +rains"--brought a series of damp, foggy, cold, cheerless days, filled +with either a dreary drizzle of rain, or, worse yet, a steady +downpour. If perchance occasionally there came a day of sunshine, +Pollyanna always flew to the Garden; but in vain. Jamie was never +there. It was the middle of November now, and even the Garden itself +was full of dreariness. The trees were bare, the benches almost empty, +and not one boat was on the little pond. True, the squirrels and +pigeons were there, and the sparrows were as pert as ever, but to feed +them was almost more of a sorrow than a joy, for every saucy switch of +Sir Lancelot's feathery tail but brought bitter memories of the lad +who had given him his name--and who was not there. + +"And to think I didn't find out where he lived!" mourned Pollyanna to +herself over and over again, as the days passed. "And he was Jamie--I +just know he was Jamie. And now I'll have to wait and wait till spring +comes, and it's warm enough for him to come here again. And then, +maybe, _I_ sha'n't be coming here by that time. O dear, O dear--and he +WAS Jamie, I know he was Jamie!" + +Then, one dreary afternoon, the unexpected happened. Pollyanna, +passing through the upper hallway heard angry voices in the hall +below, one of which she recognized as being Mary's, while the +other--the other-- + +The other voice was saying: + +"Not on yer life! It's nix on the beggin' business. Do yer get me? I +wants ter see the kid, Pollyanna. I got a message for her from--from +Sir James. Now beat it, will ye, and trot out the kid, if ye don't +mind." + +With a glad little cry Pollyanna turned and fairly flew down the +stairway. + +"Oh, I'm here, I'm here, I'm right here!" she panted, stumbling +forward. "What is it? Did Jamie send you?" + +In her excitement she had almost flung herself with outstretched arms +upon the boy when Mary intercepted a shocked, restraining hand. + +"Miss Pollyanna, Miss Pollyanna, do you mean to say you know +this--this beggar boy?" + +The boy flushed angrily; but before he could speak Pollyanna +interposed valiant championship. + +"He isn't a beggar boy. He belongs to one of my very best friends. +Besides, he's the one that found me and brought me home that time I +was lost." Then to the boy she turned with impetuous questioning. +"What is it? Did Jamie send you?" + +"Sure he did. He hit the hay a month ago, and he hain't been up +since." + +"He hit--what?" puzzled Pollyanna. + +"Hit the hay--went ter bed. He's sick, I mean, and he wants ter see +ye. Will ye come?" + +"Sick? Oh, I'm so sorry!" grieved Pollyanna. "Of course I'll come. +I'll go get my hat and coat right away." + +"Miss Pollyanna!" gasped Mary in stern disapproval. "As if Mrs. Carew +would let you go--ANYWHERE with a strange boy like this!" + +"But he isn't a strange boy," objected Pollyanna. "I've known him ever +so long, and I MUST go. I--" + +"What in the world is the meaning of this?" demanded Mrs. Carew icily +from the drawing-room doorway. "Pollyanna, who is this boy, and what +is he doing here?" + +Pollyanna turned with a quick cry. + +"Oh, Mrs. Carew, you'll let me go, won't you?" + +"Go where?" + +"To see my brother, ma'am," cut in the boy hurriedly, and with an +obvious effort to be very polite. "He's sort of off his feed, ye know, +and he wouldn't give me no peace till I come up--after her," with an +awkward gesture toward Pollyanna. "He thinks a sight an' all of her." + +"I may go, mayn't I?" pleaded Pollyanna. + +Mrs. Carew frowned. + +"Go with this boy--YOU? Certainly not, Pollyanna! I wonder you are +wild enough to think of it for a moment." + +"Oh, but I want you to come, too," began Pollyanna. + +"I? Absurd, child! That is impossible. You may give this boy here a +little money, if you like, but--" + +"Thank ye, ma'am, but I didn't come for money," resented the boy, his +eyes flashing. "I come for--her." + +"Yes, and Mrs. Carew, it's Jerry--Jerry Murphy, the boy that found me +when I was lost, and brought me home," appealed Pollyanna. "NOW won't +you let me go?" + +Mrs. Carew shook her head. + +"It is out of the question, Pollyanna." + +"But he says Ja-- --the other boy is sick, and wants me!" + +"I can't help that." + +"And I know him real well, Mrs. Carew. I do, truly. He reads +books--lovely books, all full of knights and lords and ladies, and he +feeds the birds and squirrels and gives 'em names, and everything. And +he can't walk, and he doesn't have enough to eat, lots of days," +panted Pollyanna; "and he's been playing my glad game for a year, and +didn't know it. And he plays it ever and ever so much better than I +do. And I've hunted and hunted for him, ever and ever so many days. +Honest and truly, Mrs. Carew, I've just GOT to see him," almost sobbed +Pollyanna. "I can't lose him again!" + +An angry color flamed into Mrs. Carew's cheeks. + +"Pollyanna, this is sheer nonsense. I am surprised. I am amazed at you +for insisting upon doing something you know I disapprove of. I CAN NOT +allow you to go with this boy. Now please let me hear no more about +it." + +A new expression came to Pollyanna's face. With a look half-terrified, +half-exalted, she lifted her chin and squarely faced Mrs. Carew. +Tremulously, but determinedly, she spoke. + +"Then I'll have to tell you. I didn't mean to--till I was sure. I +wanted you to see him first. But now I've got to tell. I can't lose +him again. I think, Mrs. Carew, he's--Jamie." + +"Jamie! Not--my--Jamie!" Mrs. Carew's face had grown very white. + +"Yes." + +"Impossible!" + +"I know; but, please, his name IS Jamie, and he doesn't know the other +one. His father died when he was six years old, and he can't remember +his mother. He's twelve years old, he thinks. These folks took him in +when his father died, and his father was queer, and didn't tell folks +his name, and--" + +But Mrs. Carew had stopped her with a gesture. Mrs. Carew was even +whiter than before, but her eyes burned with a sudden fire. + +"We'll go at once," she said. "Mary, tell Perkins to have the car here +as soon as possible. Pollyanna, get your hat and coat. Boy, wait here, +please. We'll be ready to go with you immediately." The next minute +she had hurried up-stairs. + +In the hall the boy drew a long breath. + +"Gee whiz!" he muttered softly. "If we ain't goin' ter go in a +buzz-wagon! Some class ter that! Gorry! what'll Sir James say?" + + + + +CHAPTER X + +IN MURPHY'S ALLEY + + +With the opulent purr that seems to be peculiar to luxurious +limousines, Mrs. Carew's car rolled down Commonwealth Avenue and out +upon Arlington Street to Charles. Inside sat a shining-eyed little +girl and a white-faced, tense woman. Outside, to give directions to +the plainly disapproving chauffeur, sat Jerry Murphy, inordinately +proud and insufferably important. + +When the limousine came to a stop before a shabby doorway in a narrow, +dirty alley, the boy leaped to the ground, and, with a ridiculous +imitation of the liveried pomposities he had so often watched, threw +open the door of the car and stood waiting for the ladies to alight. + +Pollyanna sprang out at once, her eyes widening with amazement and +distress as she looked about her. Behind her came Mrs. Carew, visibly +shuddering as her gaze swept the filth, the sordidness, and the ragged +children that swarmed shrieking and chattering out of the dismal +tenements, and surrounded the car in a second. + +Jerry waved his arms angrily. + +"Here, you, beat it!" he yelled to the motley throng. "This ain't no +free movies! CAN that racket and get a move on ye. Lively, now! We +gotta get by. Jamie's got comp'ny." + +Mrs. Carew shuddered again, and laid a trembling hand on Jerry's +shoulder. + +"Not--HERE!" she recoiled. + +But the boy did not hear. With shoves and pushes from sturdy fists and +elbows, he was making a path for his charges; and before Mrs. Carew +knew quite how it was done, she found herself with the boy and +Pollyanna at the foot of a rickety flight of stairs in a dim, +evil-smelling hallway. + +Once more she put out a shaking hand. + +"Wait," she commanded huskily. "Remember! Don't either of you say a +word about--about his being possibly the boy I'm looking for. I must +see for myself first, and--question him." + +"Of course!" agreed Pollyanna. + +"Sure! I'm on," nodded the boy. "I gotta go right off anyhow, so I +won't bother ye none. Now toddle easy up these 'ere stairs. There's +always holes, and most generally there's a kid or two asleep +somewheres. An' the elevator ain't runnin' ter-day," he gibed +cheerfully. "We gotta go ter the top, too!" + +Mrs. Carew found the "holes"--broken boards that creaked and bent +fearsomely under her shrinking feet; and she found one "kid"--a +two-year-old baby playing with an empty tin can on a string which he +was banging up and down the second flight of stairs. On all sides +doors were opened, now boldly, now stealthily, but always disclosing +women with tousled heads or peering children with dirty faces. +Somewhere a baby was wailing piteously. Somewhere else a man was +cursing. Everywhere was the smell of bad whiskey, stale cabbage, and +unwashed humanity. + +At the top of the third and last stairway the boy came to a pause +before a closed door. + +"I'm just a-thinkin' what Sir James'll say when he's wise ter the +prize package I'm bringin' him," he whispered in a throaty voice. "I +know what mumsey'll do--she'll turn on the weeps in no time ter see +Jamie so tickled." The next moment he threw wide the door with a gay: +"Here we be--an' we come in a buzz-wagon! Ain't that goin' some, Sir +James?" + +It was a tiny room, cold and cheerless and pitifully bare, but +scrupulously neat. There were here no tousled heads, no peering +children, no odors of whiskey, cabbage, and unclean humanity. There +were two beds, three broken chairs, a dry-goods-box table, and a stove +with a faint glow of light that told of a fire not nearly brisk enough +to heat even that tiny room. On one of the beds lay a lad with flushed +cheeks and fever-bright eyes. Near him sat a thin, white-faced woman, +bent and twisted with rheumatism. + +Mrs. Carew stepped into the room and, as if to steady herself, paused +a minute with her back to the wall. Pollyanna hurried forward with a +low cry just as Jerry, with an apologetic "I gotta go now; good-by!" +dashed through the door. + +"Oh, Jamie, I'm so glad I've found you," cried Pollyanna. "You don't +know how I've looked and looked for you every day. But I'm so sorry +you're sick!" + +Jamie smiled radiantly and held out a thin white hand. + +"I ain't sorry--I'm GLAD," he emphasized meaningly; "'cause it's +brought you to see me. Besides, I'm better now, anyway. Mumsey, this +is the little girl, you know, that told me the glad game--and mumsey's +playing it, too," he triumphed, turning back to Pollyanna. "First she +cried 'cause her back hurts too bad to let her work; then when I was +took worse she was GLAD she couldn't work, 'cause she could be here to +take care of me, you know." + +At that moment Mrs. Carew hurried forward, her eyes half-fearfully, +half-longingly on the face of the lame boy in the bed. + +"It's Mrs. Carew. I've brought her to see you, Jamie," introduced +Pollyanna, in a tremulous voice. + +The little twisted woman by the bed had struggled to her feet by this +time, and was nervously offering her chair. Mrs. Carew accepted it +without so much as a glance. Her eyes were still on the boy in the +bed. + +"Your name is--Jamie?" she asked, with visible difficulty. + +"Yes, ma'am." The boy's bright eyes looked straight into hers. + +"What is your other name?" + +"I don't know." + +"He is not your son?" For the first time Mrs. Carew turned to the +twisted little woman who was still standing by the bed. + +"No, madam." + +"And you don't know his name?" + +"No, madam. I never knew it." + +With a despairing gesture Mrs. Carew turned back to the boy. + +"But think, think--don't you remember ANYTHING of your name +but--Jamie?" + +The boy shook his head. Into his eyes was coming a puzzled wonder. + +"No, nothing." + +"Haven't you anything that belonged to your father, with possibly his +name in it?" + +"There wasn't anythin' worth savin' but them books," interposed Mrs. +Murphy. "Them's his. Maybe you'd like to look at 'em," she suggested, +pointing to a row of worn volumes on a shelf across the room. Then, in +plainly uncontrollable curiosity, she asked: "Was you thinkin' you +knew him, ma'am?" + +"I don't know," murmured Mrs. Carew, in a half-stifled voice, as she +rose to her feet and crossed the room to the shelf of books. + +There were not many--perhaps ten or a dozen. There was a volume of +Shakespeare's plays, an "Ivanhoe," a much-thumbed "Lady of the Lake," +a book of miscellaneous poems, a coverless "Tennyson," a dilapidated +"Little Lord Fauntleroy," and two or three books of ancient and +medieval history. But, though Mrs. Carew looked carefully through +every one, she found nowhere any written word. With a despairing sigh +she turned back to the boy and to the woman, both of whom now were +watching her with startled, questioning eyes. + +"I wish you'd tell me--both of you--all you know about yourselves," +she said brokenly, dropping herself once more into the chair by the +bed. + +And they told her. It was much the same story that Jamie had told +Pollyanna in the Public Garden. There was little that was new, nothing +that was significant, in spite of the probing questions that Mrs. +Carew asked. At its conclusion Jamie turned eager eyes on Mrs. Carew's +face. + +"Do you think you knew--my father?" he begged. + +Mrs. Carew closed her eyes and pressed her hand to her head. + +"I don't--know," she answered. "But I think--not." + +Pollyanna gave a quick cry of keen disappointment, but as quickly she +suppressed it in obedience to Mrs. Carew's warning glance. With new +horror, however, she surveyed the tiny room. + +Jamie, turning his wondering eyes from Mrs. Carew's face, suddenly +awoke to his duties as host. + +"Wasn't you good to come!" he said to Pollyanna, gratefully. "How's +Sir Lancelot? Do you ever go to feed him now?" Then, as Pollyanna did +not answer at once, he hurried on, his eyes going from her face to the +somewhat battered pink in a broken-necked bottle in the window. "Did +you see my posy? Jerry found it. Somebody dropped it and he picked it +up. Ain't it pretty? And it SMELLS a little." + +But Pollyanna did not seem even to have heard him. She was still +gazing, wide-eyed about the room, clasping and unclasping her hands +nervously. + +"But I don't see how you can ever play the game here at all, Jamie," +she faltered. "I didn't suppose there could be anywhere such a +perfectly awful place to live," she shuddered. + +"Ho!" scoffed Jamie, valiantly. "You'd oughter see the Pikes' +down-stairs. Theirs is a whole lot worse'n this. You don't know what a +lot of nice things there is about this room. Why, we get the sun in +that winder there for 'most two hours every day, when it shines. And +if you get real near it you can see a whole lot of sky from it. If we +could only KEEP the room!--but you see we've got to leave, we're +afraid. And that's what's worrin' us." + +"Leave!" + +"Yes. We got behind on the rent--mumsey bein' sick so, and not earnin' +anythin'." In spite of a courageously cheerful smile, Jamie's voice +shook. "Mis' Dolan down-stairs--the woman what keeps my wheel chair +for me, you know--is helpin' us out this week. But of course she can't +do it always, and then we'll have to go--if Jerry don't strike it +rich, or somethin'." + +"Oh, but can't we--" began Pollyanna. + +She stopped short. Mrs. Carew had risen to her feet abruptly with a +hurried: + +"Come, Pollyanna, we must go." Then to the woman she turned wearily. +"You won't have to leave. I'll send you money and food at once, and +I'll mention your case to one of the charity organizations in which I +am interested, and they will--" + +In surprise she ceased speaking. The bent little figure of the woman +opposite had drawn itself almost erect. Mrs. Murphy's cheeks were +flushed. Her eyes showed a smouldering fire. + +"Thank you, no, Mrs. Carew," she said tremulously, but proudly. "We're +poor--God knows; but we ain't charity folks." + +"Nonsense!" cried Mrs. Carew, sharply. "You're letting the woman +down-stairs help you. This boy said so." + +"I know; but that ain't charity," persisted the woman, still +tremulously. "Mrs. Dolan is my FRIEND. She knows I'D do HER a good +turn just as quick--I have done 'em for her in times past. Help from +FRIENDS ain't charity. They CARE; and that--that makes a difference. +We wa'n't always as we are now, you see; and that makes it hurt all +the more--all this. Thank you; but we couldn't take--your money." + +Mrs. Carew frowned angrily. It had been a most disappointing, +heart-breaking, exhausting hour for her. Never a patient woman, she +was exasperated now, besides being utterly tired out. + +"Very well, just as you please," she said coldly. Then, with vague +irritation she added: "But why don't you go to your landlord and +insist that he make you even decently comfortable while you do stay? +Surely you're entitled to something besides broken windows stuffed +with rags and papers! And those stairs that I came up are positively +dangerous." + +Mrs. Murphy sighed in a discouraged way. Her twisted little figure had +fallen back into its old hopelessness. + +"We have tried to have something done, but it's never amounted to +anything. We never see anybody but the agent, of course; and he says +the rents are too low for the owner to put out any more money on +repairs." + +"Nonsense!" snapped Mrs. Carew, with all the sharpness of a nervous, +distraught woman who has at last found an outlet for her exasperation. +"It's shameful! What's more, I think it's a clear case of violation of +the law;--those stairs are, certainly. I shall make it my business to +see that he's brought to terms. What is the name of that agent, and +who is the owner of this delectable establishment?" + +"I don't know the name of the owner, madam; but the agent is Mr. +Dodge." + +"Dodge!" Mrs. Carew turned sharply, an odd look on her face. "You +don't mean--Henry Dodge?" + +"Yes, madam. His name is Henry, I think." + +A flood of color swept into Mrs. Carew's face, then receded, leaving +it whiter than before. + +"Very well, I--I'll attend to it," she murmured, in a half-stifled +voice, turning away. "Come, Pollyanna, we must go now." + +Over at the bed Pollyanna was bidding Jamie a tearful good-by. + +"But I'll come again. I'll come real soon," she promised brightly, as +she hurried through the door after Mrs. Carew. + +Not until they had picked their precarious way down the three long +flights of stairs and through the jabbering, gesticulating crowd of +men, women, and children that surrounded the scowling Perkins and the +limousine, did Pollyanna speak again. But then she scarcely waited for +the irate chauffeur to slam the door upon them before she pleaded: + +"Dear Mrs. Carew, please, please say that it was Jamie! Oh, it would +be so nice for him to be Jamie." + +"But he isn't Jamie!" + +"O dear! Are you sure?" + +There was a moment's pause, then Mrs. Carew covered her face with her +hands. + +"No, I'm not sure--and that's the tragedy of it," she moaned. "I don't +think he is; I'm almost positive he isn't. But, of course, there IS a +chance--and that's what's killing me." + +"Then can't you just THINK he's Jamie," begged Pollyanna, "and play he +was? Then you could take him home, and--" But Mrs. Carew turned +fiercely. + +"Take that boy into my home when he WASN'T Jamie? Never, Pollyanna! I +couldn't." + +"But if you CAN'T help Jamie, I should think you'd be so glad there +was some one like him you COULD help," urged Pollyanna, tremulously. +"What if your Jamie was like this Jamie, all poor and sick, wouldn't +you want some one to take him in and comfort him, and--" +"Don't--don't, Pollyanna," moaned Mrs. Carew, turning her head from +side to side, in a frenzy of grief. "When I think that maybe, +somewhere, our Jamie is like that--" Only a choking sob finished the +sentence. + +"That's just what I mean--that's just what I mean!" triumphed +Pollyanna, excitedly. "Don't you see? If this IS your Jamie, of course +you'll want him; and if it isn't, you couldn't be doing any harm to +the other Jamie by taking this one, and you'd do a whole lot of good, +for you'd make this one so happy--so happy! And then, by and by, if +you should find the real Jamie, you wouldn't have lost anything, but +you'd have made two little boys happy instead of one; and--" But again +Mrs. Carew interrupted her. + +"Don't, Pollyanna, don't! I want to think--I want to think." + +Tearfully Pollyanna sat back in her seat. By a very visible effort she +kept still for one whole minute. Then, as if the words fairly bubbled +forth of themselves, there came this: + +"Oh, but what an awful, awful place that was! I just wish the man that +owned it had to live in it himself--and then see what he'd have to be +glad for!" + +Mrs. Carew sat suddenly erect. Her face showed a curious change. +Almost as if in appeal she flung out her hand toward Pollyanna. + +"Don't!" she cried. "Perhaps--she didn't know, Pollyanna. Perhaps she +didn't know. I'm sure she didn't know--she owned a place like that. +But it will be fixed now--it will be fixed." + +"SHE! Is it a woman that owns it, and do you know her? And do you know +the agent, too?" + +"Yes." Mrs. Carew bit her lips. "I know her, and I know the agent." + +"Oh, I'm so glad," sighed Pollyanna. "Then it'll be all right now." + +"Well, it certainly will be--better," avowed Mrs. Carew with emphasis, +as the car stopped before her own door. + +Mrs. Carew spoke as if she knew what she was talking about. And +perhaps, indeed, she did--better than she cared to tell Pollyanna. +Certainly, before she slept that night, a letter left her hands +addressed to one Henry Dodge, summoning him to an immediate conference +as to certain changes and repairs to be made at once in tenements she +owned. There were, moreover, several scathing sentences concerning +"rag-stuffed windows," and "rickety stairways," that caused this same +Henry Dodge to scowl angrily, and to say a sharp word behind his +teeth--though at the same time he paled with something very like fear. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +A SURPRISE FOR MRS. CAREW + + +The matter of repairs and improvements having been properly and +efficiently attended to, Mrs. Carew told herself that she had done her +duty, and that the matter was closed. She would forget it. The boy was +not Jamie--he could not be Jamie. That ignorant, sickly, crippled boy +her dead sister's son? Impossible! She would cast the whole thing from +her thoughts. + +It was just here, however, that Mrs. Carew found herself against an +immovable, impassable barrier: the whole thing refused to be cast from +her thoughts. Always before her eyes was the picture of that bare +little room and the wistful-faced boy. Always in her ears was that +heartbreaking "What if it WERE Jamie?" And always, too, there was +Pollyanna; for even though Mrs. Carew might (as she did) silence the +pleadings and questionings of the little girl's tongue, there was no +getting away from the prayers and reproaches of the little girl's +eyes. + +Twice again in desperation Mrs. Carew went to see the boy, telling +herself each time that only another visit was needed to convince her +that the boy was not the one she sought. But, even though while there +in the boy's presence, she told herself that she WAS convinced, once +away from it, the old, old questioning returned. At last, in still +greater desperation, she wrote to her sister, and told her the whole +story. + +"I had not meant to tell you," she wrote, after she had stated the +bare facts of the case. "I thought it a pity to harrow you up, or to +raise false hopes. I am so sure it is not he--and yet, even as I write +these words, I know I am NOT sure. That is why I want you to come--why +you must come. I must have you see him. + +"I wonder--oh, I wonder what you'll say! Of course we haven't seen our +Jamie since he was four years old. He would be twelve now. This boy is +twelve, I should judge. (He doesn't know his age.) He has hair and +eyes not unlike our Jamie's. He is crippled, but that condition came +upon him through a fall, six years ago, and was made worse through +another one four years later. Anything like a complete description of +his father's appearance seems impossible to obtain; but what I have +learned contains nothing conclusive either for or against his being +poor Doris's husband. He was called 'the Professor,' was very queer, +and seemed to own nothing save a few books. This might, or might not +signify. John Kent was certainly always queer, and a good deal of a +Bohemian in his tastes. Whether he cared for books or not I don't +remember. Do you? And of course the title 'Professor' might easily +have been assumed, if he wished, or it might have been merely given +him by others. As for this boy--I don't know, I don't know--but I do +hope YOU will! + + "Your distracted sister, + + "RUTH." + +Della came at once, and she went immediately to see the boy; but she +did not "know." Like her sister, she said she did not think it was +their Jamie, but at the same time there was that chance--it might be +he, after all. Like Pollyanna, however, she had what she thought was a +very satisfactory way out of the dilemma. + +"But why don't you take him, dear?" she proposed to her sister. "Why +don't you take him and adopt him? It would be lovely for him--poor +little fellow--and--" But Mrs. Carew shuddered and would not even let +her finish. + +"No, no, I can't, I can't!" she moaned. "I want my Jamie, my own +Jamie--or no one." And with a sigh Della gave it up and went back to +her nursing. + +If Mrs. Carew thought that this closed the matter, however, she was +again mistaken; for her days were still restless, and her nights were +still either sleepless or filled with dreams of a "may be" or a "might +be" masquerading as an "it is so." She was, moreover, having a +difficult time with Pollyanna. + +Pollyanna was puzzled. She was filled with questionings and unrest. +For the first time in her life Pollyanna had come face to face with +real poverty. She knew people who did not have enough to eat, who wore +ragged clothing, and who lived in dark, dirty, and very tiny rooms. +Her first impulse, of course, had been "to help." With Mrs. Carew she +made two visits to Jamie, and greatly did she rejoice at the changed +conditions she found there after "that man Dodge" had "tended to +things." But this, to Pollyanna, was a mere drop in the bucket. There +were yet all those other sick-looking men, unhappy-looking women, and +ragged children out in the street--Jamie's neighbors. Confidently she +looked to Mrs. Carew for help for them, also. + +"Indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Carew, when she learned what was expected of +her, "so you want the whole street to be supplied with fresh paper, +paint, and new stairways, do you? Pray, is there anything else you'd +like?" + +"Oh, yes, lots of things," sighed Pollyanna, happily. "You see, there +are so many things they need--all of them! And what fun it will be to +get them! How I wish I was rich so I could help, too; but I'm 'most as +glad to be with you when you get them." + +Mrs. Carew quite gasped aloud in her amazement. She lost no +time--though she did lose not a little patience--in explaining that +she had no intention of doing anything further in "Murphy's Alley," +and that there was no reason why she should. No one would expect her +to. She had canceled all possible obligations, and had even been +really very generous, any one would say, in what she had done for the +tenement where lived Jamie and the Murphys. (That she owned the +tenement building she did not think it necessary to state.) At some +length she explained to Pollyanna that there were charitable +institutions, both numerous and efficient, whose business it was to +aid all the worthy poor, and that to these institutions she gave +frequently and liberally. + +Even then, however, Pollyanna was not convinced. + +"But I don't see," she argued, "why it's any better, or even so nice, +for a whole lot of folks to club together and do what everybody would +like to do for themselves. I'm sure I'd much rather give Jamie a--a +nice book, now, than to have some old Society do it; and I KNOW he'd +like better to have me do it, too." + +"Very likely," returned Mrs. Carew, with some weariness and a little +exasperation. "But it is just possible that it would not be so well +for Jamie as--as if that book were given by a body of people who knew +what sort of one to select." + +This led her to say much, also (none of which Pollyanna in the least +understood), about "pauperizing the poor," the "evils of +indiscriminate giving," and the "pernicious effect of unorganized +charity." + +"Besides," she added, in answer to the still perplexed expression on +Pollyanna's worried little face, "very likely if I offered help to +these people they would not take it. You remember Mrs. Murphy +declined, at the first, to let me send food and clothing--though they +accepted it readily enough from their neighbors on the first floor, it +seems." + +"Yes, I know," sighed Pollyanna, turning away. "There's something +there somehow that I don't understand. But it doesn't seem right that +WE should have such a lot of nice things, and that THEY shouldn't have +anything, hardly." + +As the days passed, this feeling on the part of Pollyanna increased +rather than diminished; and the questions she asked and the comments +she made were anything but a relief to the state of mind in which Mrs. +Carew herself was. Even the test of the glad game, in this case, +Pollyanna was finding to be very near a failure; for, as she expressed +it: + +"I don't see how you can find anything about this poor-people business +to be glad for. Of course we can be glad for ourselves that we aren't +poor like them; but whenever I'm thinking how glad I am for that, I +get so sorry for them that I CAN'T be glad any longer. Of course we +COULD be glad there were poor folks, because we could help them. But +if we DON'T help them, where's the glad part of that coming in?" And +to this Pollyanna could find no one who could give her a satisfactory +answer. + +Especially she asked this question of Mrs. Carew; and Mrs. Carew, +still haunted by the visions of the Jamie that was, and the Jamie that +might be, grew only more restless, more wretched, and more utterly +despairing. Nor was she helped any by the approach of Christmas. +Nowhere was there glow of holly or flash of tinsel that did not carry +its pang to her; for always to Mrs. Carew it but symbolized a child's +empty stocking--a stocking that might be--Jamie's. + +Finally, a week before Christmas, she fought what she thought was the +last battle with herself. Resolutely, but with no real joy in her +face, she gave terse orders to Mary, and summoned Pollyanna. + +"Pollyanna," she began, almost harshly, "I have decided to--to take +Jamie. The car will be here at once. I'm going after him now, and +bring him home. You may come with me if you like." + +A great light transfigured Pollyanna's face. + +"Oh, oh, oh, how glad I am!" she breathed. "Why, I'm so glad I--I want +to cry! Mrs. Carew, why is it, when you're the very gladdest of +anything, you always want to cry?" + +"I don't know, I'm sure, Pollyanna," rejoined Mrs. Carew, +abstractedly. On Mrs. Carew's face there was still no look of joy. + +Once in the Murphys' little one-room tenement, it did not take Mrs. +Carew long to tell her errand. In a few short sentences she told the +story of the lost Jamie, and of her first hopes that this Jamie might +be he. She made no secret of her doubts that he was the one; at the +same time, she said she had decided to take him home with her and give +him every possible advantage. Then, a little wearily, she told what +were the plans she had made for him. + +At the foot of the bed Mrs. Murphy listened, crying softly. Across the +room Jerry Murphy, his eyes dilating, emitted an occasional low "Gee! +Can ye beat that, now?" As to Jamie--Jamie, on the bed, had listened +at first with the air of one to whom suddenly a door has opened into a +longed-for paradise; but gradually, as Mrs. Carew talked, a new look +came to his eyes. Very slowly he closed them, and turned away his +face. + +When Mrs. Carew ceased speaking there was a long silence before Jamie +turned his head and answered. They saw then that his face was very +white, and that his eyes were full of tears. + +"Thank you, Mrs. Carew, but--I can't go," he said simply. + +"You can't--what?" cried Mrs. Carew, as if she doubted the evidence of +her own ears. + +"Jamie!" gasped Pollyanna. + +"Oh, come, kid, what's eatin' ye?" scowled Jerry, hurriedly coming +forward. "Don't ye know a good thing when ye see it?" + +"Yes; but I can't--go," said the crippled boy, again. + +"But, Jamie, Jamie, think, THINK what it would mean to you!" quavered +Mrs. Murphy, at the foot of the bed. + +"I am a-thinkin'," choked Jamie. "Don't you suppose I know what I'm +doin'--what I'm givin' up?" Then to Mrs. Carew he turned tear-wet +eyes. "I can't," he faltered. "I can't let you do all that for me. If +you--CARED it would be different. But you don't care--not really. You +don't WANT me--not ME. You want the real Jamie, and I ain't the real +Jamie. You don't think I am. I can see it in your face." + +"I know. But--but--" began Mrs. Carew, helplessly. + +"And it isn't as if--as if I was like other boys, and could walk, +either," interrupted the cripple, feverishly. "You'd get tired of me +in no time. And I'd see it comin'. I couldn't stand it--to be a burden +like that. Of course, if you CARED--like mumsey here--" He threw out +his hand, choked back a sob, then turned his head away again. "I'm not +the Jamie you want. I--can't--go," he said. With the words his thin, +boyish hand fell clenched till the knuckles showed white against the +tattered old shawl that covered the bed. + +There was a moment's breathless hush, then, very quietly, Mrs. Carew +got to her feet. Her face was colorless; but there was that in it that +silenced the sob that rose to Pollyanna's lips. + +"Come, Pollyanna," was all she said. + +"Well, if you ain't the fool limit!" babbled Jerry Murphy to the boy +on the bed, as the door closed a moment later. + +But the boy on the bed was crying very much as if the closing door had +been the one that had led to paradise--and that had closed now +forever. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +FROM BEHIND A COUNTER + + +Mrs. Carew was very angry. To have brought herself to the point where +she was willing to take this lame boy into her home, and then to have +the lad calmly refuse to come, was unbearable. Mrs. Carew was not in +the habit of having her invitations ignored, or her wishes scorned. +Furthermore, now that she could not have the boy, she was conscious of +an almost frantic terror lest he were, after all, the real Jamie. She +knew then that her true reason for wanting him had been--not because +she cared for him, not even because she wished to help him and make +him happy--but because she hoped, by taking him, that she would ease +her own mind, and forever silence that awful eternal questioning on +her part: "What if he WERE her own Jamie?" + +It certainly had not helped matters any that the boy had divined her +state of mind, and had given as the reason for his refusal that she +"did not care." To be sure, Mrs. Carew now very proudly told herself +that she did not indeed "care," that he was NOT her sister's boy, and +that she would "forget all about it." + +But she did not forget all about it. However insistently she might +disclaim responsibility and relationship, just as insistently +responsibility and relationship thrust themselves upon her in the +shape of panicky doubts; and however resolutely she turned her +thoughts to other matters, just so resolutely visions of a +wistful-eyed boy in a poverty-stricken room loomed always before her. + +Then, too, there was Pollyanna. Clearly Pollyanna was not herself at +all. In a most unPollyanna-like spirit she moped about the house, +finding apparently no interest anywhere. + +"Oh, no, I'm not sick," she would answer, when remonstrated with, and +questioned. + +"But what IS the trouble?" + +"Why, nothing. It--it's only that I was thinking of Jamie, you +know,--how HE hasn't got all these beautiful things--carpets, and +pictures, and curtains." + +It was the same with her food. Pollyanna was actually losing her +appetite; but here again she disclaimed sickness. + +"Oh, no," she would sigh mournfully. "It's just that I don't seem +hungry. Some way, just as soon as I begin to eat, I think of Jamie, +and how HE doesn't have only old doughnuts and dry rolls; and then +I--I don't want anything." + +Mrs. Carew, spurred by a feeling that she herself only dimly +understood, and recklessly determined to bring about some change in +Pollyanna at all costs, ordered a huge tree, two dozen wreaths, and +quantities of holly and Christmas baubles. For the first time in many +years the house was aflame and aglitter with scarlet and tinsel. There +was even to be a Christmas party, for Mrs. Carew had told Pollyanna to +invite half a dozen of her schoolgirl friends for the tree on +Christmas Eve. + +But even here Mrs. Carew met with disappointment; for, though +Pollyanna was always grateful, and at times interested and even +excited, she still carried frequently a sober little face. And in the +end the Christmas party was more of a sorrow than a joy; for the first +glimpse of the glittering tree sent her into a storm of sobs. + +"Why, Pollyanna!" ejaculated Mrs. Carew. "What in the world is the +matter now?" + +"N-n-nothing," wept Pollyanna. "It's only that it's so perfectly, +perfectly beautiful that I just had to cry. I was thinking how Jamie +would love to see it." + +It was then that Mrs. Carew's patience snapped. + +"'Jamie, Jamie, Jamie'!" she exclaimed. "Pollyanna, CAN'T you stop +talking about that boy? You know perfectly well that it is not my +fault that he is not here. I asked him to come here to live. Besides, +where is that glad game of yours? I think it would be an excellent +idea if you would play it on this." + +"I AM playing it," quavered Pollyanna. "And that's what I don't +understand. I never knew it to act so funny. Why, before, when I've +been glad about things, I've been happy. But now, about Jamie--I'm so +glad I've got carpets and pictures and nice things to eat, and that I +can walk and run, and go to school, and all that; but the harder I'm +glad for myself, the sorrier I am for him. I never knew the game to +act so funny, and I don't know what ails it. Do you?" + +But Mrs. Carew, with a despairing gesture, merely turned away without +a word. + +It was the day after Christmas that something so wonderful happened +that Pollyanna, for a time, almost forgot Jamie. Mrs. Carew had taken +her shopping, and it was while Mrs. Carew was trying to decide between +a duchesse-lace and a point-lace collar, that Pollyanna chanced to spy +farther down the counter a face that looked vaguely familiar. For a +moment she regarded it frowningly; then, with a little cry, she ran +down the aisle. + +"Oh, it's you--it IS you!" she exclaimed joyously to a girl who was +putting into the show case a tray of pink bows. "I'm so glad to see +you!" + +The girl behind the counter lifted her head and stared at Pollyanna in +amazement. But almost immediately her dark, somber face lighted with a +smile of glad recognition. + +"Well, well, if it isn't my little Public Garden kiddie!" she +ejaculated. + +"Yes. I'm so glad you remembered," beamed Pollyanna. "But you never +came again. I looked for you lots of times." + +"I couldn't. I had to work. That was our last half-holiday, and--Fifty +cents, madam," she broke off, in answer to a sweet-faced old lady's +question as to the price of a black-and-white bow on the counter. + +"Fifty cents? Hm-m!" The old lady fingered the bow, hesitated, then +laid it down with a sigh. "Hm, yes; well, it's very pretty, I'm sure, +my dear," she said, as she passed on. + +Immediately behind her came two bright-faced girls who, with much +giggling and bantering, picked out a jeweled creation of scarlet +velvet, and a fairy-like structure of tulle and pink buds. As the +girls turned chattering away Pollyanna drew an ecstatic sigh. + +"Is this what you do all day? My, how glad you must be you chose +this!" + +"GLAD!" + +"Yes. It must be such fun--such lots of folks, you know, and all +different! And you can talk to 'em. You HAVE to talk to 'em--it's your +business. I should love that. I think I'll do this when I grow up. It +must be such fun to see what they all buy!" + +"Fun! Glad!" bristled the girl behind the counter. "Well, child, I +guess if you knew half--That's a dollar, madam," she interrupted +herself hastily, in answer to a young woman's sharp question as to the +price of a flaring yellow bow of beaded velvet in the show case. + +"Well, I should think 'twas time you told me," snapped the young +woman. "I had to ask you twice." + +The girl behind the counter bit her lip. + +"I didn't hear you, madam." + +"I can't help that. It is your business TO hear. You are paid for it, +aren't you? How much is that black one?" + +"Fifty cents." + +"And that blue one?" + +"One dollar." + +"No impudence, miss! You needn't be so short about it, or I shall +report you. Let me see that tray of pink ones." + +The salesgirl's lips opened, then closed in a thin, straight line. +Obediently she reached into the show case and took out the tray of +pink bows; but her eyes flashed, and her hands shook visibly as she +set the tray down on the counter. The young woman whom she was serving +picked up five bows, asked the price of four of them, then turned away +with a brief: + +"I see nothing I care for." + +"Well," said the girl behind the counter, in a shaking voice, to the +wide-eyed Pollyanna, "what do you think of my business now? Anything +to be glad about there?" + +Pollyanna giggled a little hysterically. + +"My, wasn't she cross? But she was kind of funny, too--don't you +think? Anyhow, you can be glad that--that they aren't ALL like HER, +can't you?" + +"I suppose so," said the girl, with a faint smile, "But I can tell you +right now, kiddie, that glad game of yours you was tellin' me about +that day in the Garden may be all very well for you; but--" Once more +she stopped with a tired: "Fifty cents, madam," in answer to a +question from the other side of the counter. + +"Are you as lonesome as ever?" asked Pollyanna wistfully, when the +salesgirl was at liberty again. + +"Well, I can't say I've given more'n five parties, nor been to more'n +seven, since I saw you," replied the girl so bitterly that Pollyanna +detected the sarcasm. + +"Oh, but you did something nice Christmas, didn't you?" + +"Oh, yes. I stayed in bed all day with my feet done up in rags and +read four newspapers and one magazine. Then at night I hobbled out to +a restaurant where I had to blow in thirty-five cents for chicken pie +instead of a quarter." + +"But what ailed your feet?" + +"Blistered. Standin' on 'em--Christmas rush." + +"Oh!" shuddered Pollyanna, sympathetically. "And you didn't have any +tree, or party, or anything?" she cried, distressed and shocked. + +"Well, hardly!" + +"O dear! How I wish you could have seen mine!" sighed the little girl. +"It was just lovely, and--But, oh, say!" she exclaimed joyously. "You +can see it, after all. It isn't gone yet. Now, can't you come out +to-night, or to-morrow night, and--" + +"PollyANNA!" interrupted Mrs. Carew in her chilliest accents. "What in +the world does this mean? Where have you been? I have looked +everywhere for you. I even went 'way back to the suit department." + +Pollyanna turned with a happy little cry. + +"Oh, Mrs. Carew, I'm so glad you've come," she rejoiced. "This +is--well, I don't know her name yet, but I know HER, so it's all +right. I met her in the Public Garden ever so long ago. And she's +lonesome, and doesn't know anybody. And her father was a minister like +mine, only he's alive. And she didn't have any Christmas tree only +blistered feet and chicken pie; and I want her to see mine, you +know--the tree, I mean," plunged on Pollyanna, breathlessly. "I've +asked her to come out to-night, or to-morrow night. And you'll let me +have it all lighted up again, won't you?" + +[Illustration: "'I don't know her name yet, but I know HER, so it's +all right'"] + +"Well, really, Pollyanna," began Mrs. Carew, in cold disapproval. But +the girl behind the counter interrupted with a voice quite as cold, +and even more disapproving. + +"Don't worry, madam. I've no notion of goin'." + +"Oh, but PLEASE," begged Pollyanna. "You don't know how I want you, +and--" + +"I notice the lady ain't doin' any askin'," interrupted the salesgirl, +a little maliciously. + +Mrs. Carew flushed an angry red, and turned as if to go; but Pollyanna +caught her arm and held it, talking meanwhile almost frenziedly to the +girl behind the counter, who happened, at the moment, to be free from +customers. + +"Oh, but she will, she will," Pollyanna was saying. "She wants you to +come--I know she does. Why, you don't know how good she is, and how +much money she gives to--to charitable 'sociations and everything." + +"PollyANNA!" remonstrated Mrs. Carew, sharply. Once more she would +have gone, but this time she was held spellbound by the ringing scorn +in the low, tense voice of the salesgirl. + +"Oh, yes, I know! There's lots of 'em that'll give to RESCUE work. +There's always plenty of helpin' hands stretched out to them that has +gone wrong. And that's all right. I ain't findin' no fault with that. +Only sometimes I wonder there don't some of 'em think of helpin' the +girls BEFORE they go wrong. Why don't they give GOOD girls pretty +homes with books and pictures and soft carpets and music, and somebody +'round 'em to care? Maybe then there wouldn't be so many--Good +heavens, what am I sayin'?" she broke off, under her breath. Then, +with the old weariness, she turned to a young woman who had stopped +before her and picked up a blue bow. + +"That's fifty cents, madam," Mrs. Carew heard, as she hurried +Pollyanna away. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +A WAITING AND A WINNING + + +It was a delightful plan. Pollyanna had it entirely formulated in +about five minutes; then she told Mrs. Carew. Mrs. Carew did not think +it was a delightful plan, and she said so very distinctly. + +"Oh, but I'm sure THEY'LL think it is," argued Pollyanna, in reply to +Mrs. Carew's objections. "And just think how easy we can do it! The +tree is just as it was--except for the presents, and we can get more +of those. It won't be so very long till just New Year's Eve; and only +think how glad she'll be to come! Wouldn't YOU be, if you hadn't had +anything for Christmas only blistered feet and chicken pie?" + +"Dear, dear, what an impossible child you are!" frowned Mrs. Carew. +"Even yet it doesn't seem to occur to you that we don't know this +young person's name." + +"So we don't! And isn't it funny, when I feel that I know HER so +well?" smiled Pollyanna. "You see, we had such a good talk in the +Garden that day, and she told me all about how lonesome she was, and +that she thought the lonesomest place in the world was in a crowd in a +big city, because folks didn't think nor notice. Oh, there was one +that noticed; but he noticed too much, she said, and he hadn't ought +to notice her any--which is kind of funny, isn't it, when you come to +think of it. But anyhow, he came for her there in the Garden to go +somewhere with him, and she wouldn't go, and he was a real handsome +gentleman, too--until he began to look so cross, just at the last. +Folks aren't so pretty when they're cross, are they? Now there was a +lady to-day looking at bows, and she said--well, lots of things that +weren't nice, you know. And SHE didn't look pretty, either, +after--after she began to talk. But you will let me have the tree New +Year's Eve, won't you, Mrs. Carew?--and invite this girl who sells +bows, and Jamie? He's better, you know, now, and he COULD come. Of +course Jerry would have to wheel him--but then, we'd want Jerry, +anyway." + +"Oh, of course, JERRY!" exclaimed Mrs. Carew in ironic scorn. "But why +stop with Jerry? I'm sure Jerry has hosts of friends who would love to +come. And--" + +"Oh, Mrs. Carew, MAY I?" broke in Pollyanna, in uncontrollable +delight. "Oh, how good, GOOD, GOOD you are! I've so wanted--" But Mrs. +Carew fairly gasped aloud in surprise and dismay. + +"No, no, Pollyanna, I--" she began, protestingly. But Pollyanna, +entirely mistaking the meaning of her interruption, plunged in again +in stout championship. + +"Indeed you ARE good--just the bestest ever; and I sha'n't let you say +you aren't. Now I reckon I'll have a party all right! There's Tommy +Dolan and his sister Jennie, and the two Macdonald children, and three +girls whose names I don't know that live under the Murphys, and a +whole lot more, if we have room for 'em. And only think how glad +they'll be when I tell 'em! Why, Mrs. Carew, seems to me as if I never +knew anything so perfectly lovely in all my life--and it's all your +doings! Now mayn't I begin right away to invite 'em--so they'll KNOW +what's coming to 'em?" + +And Mrs. Carew, who would not have believed such a thing possible, +heard herself murmuring a faint "yes," which, she knew, bound her to +the giving of a Christmas-tree party on New Year's Eve to a dozen +children from Murphy's Alley and a young salesgirl whose name she did +not know. + +Perhaps in Mrs. Carew's memory was still lingering a young girl's +"Sometimes I wonder there don't some of 'em think of helpin' the girls +BEFORE they go wrong." Perhaps in her ears was still ringing +Pollyanna's story of that same girl who had found a crowd in a big +city the loneliest place in the world, yet who had refused to go with +the handsome man that had "noticed too much." Perhaps in Mrs. Carew's +heart was the undefined hope that somewhere in it all lay the peace +she had so longed for. Perhaps it was a little of all three combined +with utter helplessness in the face of Pollyanna's amazing twisting of +her irritated sarcasm into the wide-sweeping hospitality of a willing +hostess. Whatever it was, the thing was done; and at once Mrs. Carew +found herself caught into a veritable whirl of plans and plottings, +the center of which was always Pollyanna and the party. + +To her sister, Mrs. Carew wrote distractedly of the whole affair, +closing with: + +"What I'm going to do I don't know; but I suppose I shall have to keep +right on doing as I am doing. There is no other way. Of course, if +Pollyanna once begins to preach--but she hasn't yet; so I can't, with +a clear conscience, send her back to you." + +Della, reading this letter at the Sanatorium, laughed aloud at the +conclusion. + +"'Hasn't preached yet,' indeed!" she chuckled to herself. "Bless her +dear heart! And yet you, Ruth Carew, own up to giving two +Christmas-tree parties within a week, and, as I happen to know, your +home, which used to be shrouded in death-like gloom, is aflame with +scarlet and green from top to toe. But she hasn't preached yet--oh, +no, she hasn't preached yet!" + +The party was a great success. Even Mrs. Carew admitted that. Jamie, +in his wheel chair, Jerry with his startling, but expressive +vocabulary, and the girl (whose name proved to be Sadie Dean), vied +with each other in amusing the more diffident guests. Sadie Dean, much +to the others' surprise--and perhaps to her own--disclosed an intimate +knowledge of the most fascinating games; and these games, with Jamie's +stories and Jerry's good-natured banter, kept every one in gales of +laughter until supper and the generous distribution of presents from +the laden tree sent the happy guests home with tired sighs of content. + +If Jamie (who with Jerry was the last to leave) looked about him a bit +wistfully, no one apparently noticed it. Yet Mrs. Carew, when she bade +him good-night, said low in his ear, half impatiently, half +embarrassedly: + +"Well, Jamie, have you changed your mind--about coming?" + +The boy hesitated. A faint color stole into his cheeks. He turned and +looked into her eyes wistfully, searchingly. Then very slowly he shook +his head. + +"If it could always be--like to-night, I--could," he sighed. "But it +wouldn't. There'd be to-morrow, and next week, and next month, and +next year comin'; and I'd know before next week that I hadn't oughter +come." + + +If Mrs. Carew had thought that the New Year's Eve party was to end the +matter of Pollyanna's efforts in behalf of Sadie Dean, she was soon +undeceived; for the very next morning Pollyanna began to talk of her. + +"And I'm so glad I found her again," she prattled contentedly. "Even +if I haven't been able to find the real Jamie for you, I've found +somebody else for you to love--and of course you'll love to love her, +'cause it's just another way of loving Jamie." + +Mrs. Carew drew in her breath and gave a little gasp of exasperation. +This unfailing faith in her goodness of heart, and unhesitating belief +in her desire to "help everybody" was most disconcerting, and +sometimes most annoying. At the same time it was a most difficult +thing to disclaim--under the circumstances, especially with +Pollyanna's happy, confident eyes full on her face. + +"But, Pollyanna," she objected impotently, at last, feeling very much +as if she were struggling against invisible silken cords, +"I--you--this girl really isn't Jamie, at all, you know." + +"I know she isn't," sympathized Pollyanna quickly. "And of course I'm +just as sorry she ISN'T Jamie as can be. But she's somebody's +Jamie--that is, I mean she hasn't got anybody down here to love her +and--and notice, you know; and so whenever you remember Jamie I should +think you couldn't be glad enough there was SOMEBODY you could help, +just as you'd want folks to help Jamie, wherever HE is." + +Mrs. Carew shivered and gave a little moan. + +"But I want MY Jamie," she grieved. + +Pollyanna nodded with understanding eyes. + +"I know--the 'child's presence.' Mr. Pendleton told me about it--only +you've GOT the 'woman's hand.'" + +"'Woman's hand'?" + +"Yes--to make a home, you know. He said that it took a woman's hand or +a child's presence to make a home. That was when he wanted me, and I +found him Jimmy, and he adopted him instead." + +"JIMMY?" Mrs. Carew looked up with the startled something in her eyes +that always came into them at the mention of any variant of that name. + +"Yes; Jimmy Bean." + +"Oh--BEAN," said Mrs. Carew, relaxing. + +"Yes. He was from an Orphan's Home, and he ran away. I found him. He +said he wanted another kind of a home with a mother in it instead of a +Matron. I couldn't find him the mother-part, but I found him Mr. +Pendleton, and he adopted him. His name is Jimmy Pendleton now." + +"But it was--Bean?" + +"Yes, it was Bean." + +"Oh!" said Mrs. Carew, this time with a long sigh. + +Mrs. Carew saw a good deal of Sadie Dean during the days that followed +the New Year's Eve party. She saw a good deal of Jamie, too. In one +way and another Pollyanna contrived to have them frequently at the +house; and this, Mrs. Carew, much to her surprise and vexation, could +not seem to prevent. Her consent and even her delight were taken by +Pollyanna as so much a matter of course that she found herself +helpless to convince the child that neither approval nor satisfaction +entered into the matter at all, as far as she was concerned. + +But Mrs. Carew, whether she herself realized it or not, was learning +many things--things she never could have learned in the old days, shut +up in her rooms, with orders to Mary to admit no one. She was learning +something of what it means to be a lonely young girl in a big city, +with one's living to earn, and with no one to care--except one who +cares too much, and too little. + +"But what did you mean?" she nervously asked Sadie Dean one evening; +"what did you mean that first day in the store--what you said--about +helping the girls?" + +Sadie Dean colored distressfully. + +"I'm afraid I was rude," she apologized. + +"Never mind that. Tell me what you meant. I've thought of it so many +times since." + +For a moment the girl was silent; then, a little bitterly she said: + +"'Twas because I knew a girl once, and I was thinkin' of her. She came +from my town, and she was pretty and good, but she wa'n't over strong. +For a year we pulled together, sharin' the same room, boiling our eggs +over the same gas-jet, and eatin' our hash and fish balls for supper +at the same cheap restaurant. There was never anything to do evenin's +but to walk in the Common, or go to the movies, if we had the dime to +blow in, or just stay in our room. Well, our room wasn't very +pleasant. It was hot in summer, and cold in winter, and the gas-jet +was so measly and so flickery that we couldn't sew or read, even if we +hadn't been too fagged out to do either--which we 'most generally was. +Besides, over our heads was a squeaky board that some one was always +rockin' on, and under us was a feller that was learnin' to play the +cornet. Did you ever hear any one learn to play the cornet?" + +"N-no, I don't think so," murmured Mrs. Carew. + +"Well, you've missed a lot," said the girl, dryly. Then, after a +moment, she resumed her story. + +"Sometimes, 'specially at Christmas and holidays, we used to walk up +here on the Avenue, and other streets, huntin' for windows where the +curtains were up, and we could look in. You see, we were pretty +lonesome, them days 'specially, and we said it did us good to see +homes with folks, and lamps on the center-tables, and children playin' +games; but we both of us knew that really it only made us feel worse +than ever, because we were so hopelessly out of it all. 'Twas even +harder to see the automobiles, and the gay young folks in them, +laughing and chatting. You see, we were young, and I suspect we wanted +to laugh and chatter. We wanted a good time, too; and, by and by--my +chum began to have it--this good time. + +"Well, to make a long story short, we broke partnership one day, and +she went her way, and I mine. I didn't like the company she was +keepin', and I said so. She wouldn't give 'em up, so we quit. I didn't +see her again for 'most two years, then I got a note from her, and I +went. This was just last month. She was in one of them rescue homes. +It was a lovely place; soft rugs, fine pictures, plants, flowers, and +books, a piano, a beautiful room, and everything possible done for +her. Rich women came in their automobiles and carriages to take her +driving, and she was taken to concerts and matinees. She was learnin' +stenography, and they were going to help her to a position just as +soon as she could take it. Everybody was wonderfully good to her, she +said, and showed they wanted to help her in every way. But she said +something else, too. She said: + +"'Sadie, if they'd taken one half the pains to show me they cared and +wanted to help long ago when I was an honest, self-respectin', +hard-workin' homesick girl--I wouldn't have been here for them to help +now.' And--well, I never forgot it. That's all. It ain't that I'm +objectin' to the rescue work--it's a fine thing, and they ought to do +it. Only I'm thinkin' there wouldn't be quite so much of it for them +to do--if they'd just show a little of their interest earlier in the +game." + +"But I thought--there were working-girls' homes, and--and +settlement-houses that--that did that sort of thing," faltered Mrs. +Carew in a voice that few of her friends would have recognized. + +"There are. Did you ever see the inside of one of them?" + +"Why, n-no; though I--I have given money to them." This time Mrs. +Carew's voice was almost apologetically pleading in tone. + +Sadie Dean smiled curiously. + +"Yes, I know. There are lots of good women that have given money to +them--and have never seen the inside of one of them. Please don't +understand that I'm sayin' anythin' against the homes. I'm not. +They're good things. They're almost the only thing that's doing +anything to help; but they're only a drop in the bucket to what is +really needed. I tried one once; but there was an air about +it--somehow I felt-- But there, what's the use? Probably they aren't +all like that one, and maybe the fault was with me. If I should try to +tell you, you wouldn't understand. You'd have to live in it--and you +haven't even seen the inside of one. But I can't help wonderin' +sometimes why so many of those good women never seem to put the real +HEART and INTEREST into the preventin' that they do into the rescuin'. +But there! I didn't mean to talk such a lot. But--you asked me." + +"Yes, I asked you," said Mrs. Carew in a half-stifled voice, as she +turned away. + +Not only from Sadie Dean, however, was Mrs. Carew learning things +never learned before, but from Jamie, also. + +Jamie was there a great deal. Pollyanna liked to have him there, and +he liked to be there. At first, to be sure, he had hesitated; but very +soon he had quieted his doubts and yielded to his longings by telling +himself (and Pollyanna) that, after all, visiting was not "staying for +keeps." + +Mrs. Carew often found the boy and Pollyanna contentedly settled on +the library window-seat, with the empty wheel chair close by. +Sometimes they were poring over a book. (She heard Jamie tell +Pollyanna one day that he didn't think he'd mind so very much being +lame if he had so many books as Mrs. Carew, and that he guessed he'd +be so happy he'd fly clean away if he had both books and legs.) +Sometimes the boy was telling stories, and Pollyanna was listening, +wide-eyed and absorbed. + +Mrs. Carew wondered at Pollyanna's interest--until one day she herself +stopped and listened. After that she wondered no longer--but she +listened a good deal longer. Crude and incorrect as was much of the +boy's language, it was always wonderfully vivid and picturesque, so +that Mrs. Carew found herself, hand in hand with Pollyanna, trailing +down the Golden Ages at the beck of a glowing-eyed boy. + +Dimly Mrs. Carew was beginning to realize, too, something of what it +must mean, to be in spirit and ambition the center of brave deeds and +wonderful adventures, while in reality one was only a crippled boy in +a wheel chair. But what Mrs. Carew did not realize was the part this +crippled boy was beginning to play in her own life. She did not +realize how much a matter of course his presence was becoming, nor how +interested she now was in finding something new "for Jamie to see." +Neither did she realize how day by day he was coming to seem to her +more and more the lost Jamie, her dead sister's child. + +As February, March, and April passed, however, and May came, bringing +with it the near approach of the date set for Pollyanna's home-going, +Mrs. Carew did suddenly awake to the knowledge of what that home-going +was to mean to her. + +She was amazed and appalled. Up to now she had, in belief, looked +forward with pleasure to the departure of Pollyanna. She had said that +then once again the house would be quiet, with the glaring sun shut +out. Once again she would be at peace, and able to hide herself away +from the annoying, tiresome world. Once again she would be free to +summon to her aching consciousness all those dear memories of the lost +little lad who had so long ago stepped into that vast unknown and +closed the door behind him. All this she had believed would be the +case when Pollyanna should go home. + +But now that Pollyanna was really going home, the picture was far +different. The "quiet house with the sun shut out" had become one that +promised to be "gloomy and unbearable." The longed-for "peace" would +be "wretched loneliness"; and as for her being able to "hide herself +away from the annoying, tiresome world," and "free to summon to her +aching consciousness all those dear memories of that lost little +lad"--just as if anything could blot out those other aching memories +of the new Jamie (who yet might be the old Jamie) with his pitiful, +pleading eyes! + +Full well now Mrs. Carew knew that without Pollyanna the house would +be empty; but that without the lad, Jamie, it would be worse than +that. To her pride this knowledge was not pleasing. To her heart it +was torture--since the boy had twice said that he would not come. For +a time, during those last few days of Pollyanna's stay, the struggle +was a bitter one, though pride always kept the ascendancy. Then, on +what Mrs. Carew knew would be Jamie's last visit, her heart triumphed, +and once more she asked Jamie to come and be to her the Jamie that was +lost. + +What she said she never could remember afterwards; but what the boy +said, she never forgot. After all, it was compassed in six short +words. + +For what seemed a long, long minute his eyes had searched her face; +then to his own had come a transfiguring light, as he breathed: + +"Oh, yes! Why, you--CARE, now!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +JIMMY AND THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER + + +This time Beldingsville did not literally welcome Pollyanna home with +brass bands and bunting--perhaps because the hour of her expected +arrival was known to but few of the townspeople. But there certainly +was no lack of joyful greetings on the part of everybody from the +moment she stepped from the railway train with her Aunt Polly and Dr. +Chilton. Nor did Pollyanna lose any time in starting on a round of +fly-away minute calls on all her old friends. Indeed, for the next few +days, according to Nancy, "There wasn't no putting of your finger on +her anywheres, for by the time you'd got your finger down she wa'n't +there." + +And always, everywhere she went, Pollyanna met the question: "Well, +how did you like Boston?" Perhaps to no one did she answer this more +fully than she did to Mr. Pendleton. As was usually the case when this +question was put to her, she began her reply with a troubled frown. + +"Oh, I liked it--I just loved it--some of it." + +"But not all of it?" smiled Mr. Pendleton. + +"No. There's parts of it--Oh, I was glad to be there," she explained +hastily. "I had a perfectly lovely time, and lots of things were so +queer and different, you know--like eating dinner at night instead of +noons, when you ought to eat it. But everybody was so good to me, and +I saw such a lot of wonderful things--Bunker Hill, and the Public +Garden, and the Seeing Boston autos, and miles of pictures and statues +and store-windows and streets that didn't have any end. And folks. I +never saw such a lot of folks." + +"Well, I'm sure--I thought you liked folks," commented the man. + +"I do." Pollyanna frowned again and pondered. "But what's the use of +such a lot of them if you don't know 'em? And Mrs. Carew wouldn't let +me. She didn't know 'em herself. She said folks didn't, down there." + +There was a slight pause, then, with a sigh, Pollyanna resumed. + +"I reckon maybe that's the part I don't like the most--that folks +don't know each other. It would be such a lot nicer if they did! Why, +just think, Mr. Pendleton, there are lots of folks that live on dirty, +narrow streets, and don't even have beans and fish balls to eat, nor +things even as good as missionary barrels to wear. Then there are +other folks--Mrs. Carew, and a whole lot like her--that live in +perfectly beautiful houses, and have more things to eat and wear than +they know what to do with. Now if THOSE folks only knew the other +folks--" But Mr. Pendleton interrupted with a laugh. + +"My dear child, did it ever occur to you that these people don't CARE +to know each other?" he asked quizzically. + +"Oh, but some of them do," maintained Pollyanna, in eager defense. +"Now there's Sadie Dean--she sells bows, lovely bows in a big +store--she WANTS to know people; and I introduced her to Mrs. Carew, +and we had her up to the house, and we had Jamie and lots of others +there, too; and she was SO glad to know them! And that's what made me +think that if only a lot of Mrs. Carew's kind could know the other +kind--but of course _I_ couldn't do the introducing. I didn't know +many of them myself, anyway. But if they COULD know each other, so +that the rich people could give the poor people part of their money--" + +But again Mr. Pendleton interrupted with a laugh. + +"Oh, Pollyanna, Pollyanna," he chuckled; "I'm afraid you're getting +into pretty deep water. You'll be a rabid little socialist before you +know it." + +"A--what?" questioned the little girl, dubiously. "I--I don't think I +know what a socialist is. But I know what being SOCIABLE is--and I +like folks that are that. If it's anything like that, I don't mind +being one, a mite. I'd like to be one." + +"I don't doubt it, Pollyanna," smiled the man. "But when it comes to +this scheme of yours for the wholesale distribution of wealth--you've +got a problem on your hands that you might have difficulty with." + +Pollyanna drew a long sigh. + +"I know," she nodded. "That's the way Mrs. Carew talked. She says I +don't understand; that 'twould--er--pauperize her and be +indiscriminate and pernicious, and--Well, it was SOMETHING like that, +anyway," bridled the little girl, aggrievedly, as the man began to +laugh. "And, anyway, I DON'T understand why some folks should have +such a lot, and other folks shouldn't have anything; and I DON'T like +it. And if I ever have a lot I shall just give some of it to folks who +don't have any, even if it does make me pauperized and pernicious, +and--" But Mr. Pendleton was laughing so hard now that Pollyanna, +after a moment's struggle, surrendered and laughed with him. + +"Well, anyway," she reiterated, when she had caught her breath, "I +don't understand it, all the same." + +"No, dear, I'm afraid you don't," agreed the man, growing suddenly +very grave and tender-eyed; "nor any of the rest of us, for that +matter. But, tell me," he added, after a minute, "who is this Jamie +you've been talking so much about since you came?" + +And Pollyanna told him. + +In talking of Jamie, Pollyanna lost her worried, baffled look. +Pollyanna loved to talk of Jamie. Here was something she understood. +Here was no problem that had to deal with big, fearsome-sounding +words. Besides, in this particular instance--would not Mr. Pendleton +be especially interested in Mrs. Carew's taking the boy into her home, +for who better than himself could understand the need of a child's +presence? + +For that matter, Pollyanna talked to everybody about Jamie. She +assumed that everybody would be as interested as she herself was. On +most occasions she was not disappointed in the interest shown; but one +day she met with a surprise. It came through Jimmy Pendleton. + +"Say, look a-here," he demanded one afternoon, irritably. "Wasn't +there ANYBODY else down to Boston but just that everlasting 'Jamie'?" + +"Why, Jimmy Bean, what do you mean?" cried Pollyanna. + +The boy lifted his chin a little. + +"I'm not Jimmy Bean. I'm Jimmy Pendleton. And I mean that I should +think, from your talk, that there wasn't ANYBODY down to Boston but +just that loony boy who calls them birds and squirrels 'Lady +Lancelot,' and all that tommyrot." + +"Why, Jimmy Be--Pendleton!" gasped Pollyanna. Then, with some spirit: +"Jamie isn't loony! He is a very nice boy. And he knows a lot--books +and stories! Why, he can MAKE stories right out of his own head! +Besides, it isn't 'Lady Lancelot,'--it's 'Sir Lancelot.' If you knew +half as much as he does you'd know that, too!" she finished, with +flashing eyes. + +Jimmy Pendleton flushed miserably and looked utterly wretched. Growing +more and more jealous moment by moment, still doggedly he held his +ground. + +"Well, anyhow," he scoffed, "I don't think much of his name. 'Jamie'! +Humph!--sounds sissy! And I know somebody else that said so, too." + +"Who was it?" + +There was no answer. + +"WHO WAS IT?" demanded Pollyanna, more peremptorily. + +"Dad." The boy's voice was sullen. + +"Your--dad?" repeated Pollyanna, in amazement. "Why, how could he know +Jamie?" + +"He didn't. 'Twasn't about that Jamie. 'Twas about me." The boy still +spoke sullenly, with his eyes turned away. Yet there was a curious +softness in his voice that was always noticeable whenever he spoke of +his father. + +"YOU!" + +"Yes. 'Twas just a little while before he died. We stopped 'most a +week with a farmer. Dad helped about the hayin'--and I did, too, some. +The farmer's wife was awful good to me, and pretty quick she was +callin' me 'Jamie.' I don't know why, but she just did. And one day +father heard her. He got awful mad--so mad that I remembered it +always--what he said. He said 'Jamie' wasn't no sort of a name for a +boy, and that no son of his should ever be called it. He said 'twas a +sissy name, and he hated it. 'Seems so I never saw him so mad as he +was that night. He wouldn't even stay to finish the work, but him and +me took to the road again that night. I was kind of sorry, 'cause I +liked her--the farmer's wife, I mean. She was good to me." + +Pollyanna nodded, all sympathy and interest. It was not often that +Jimmy said much of that mysterious past life of his, before she had +known him. + +"And what happened next?" she prompted. Pollyanna had, for the moment, +forgotten all about the original subject of the controversy--the name +"Jamie" that was dubbed "sissy." + +The boy sighed. + +"We just went on till we found another place. And 'twas there +dad--died. Then they put me in the 'sylum." + +"And then you ran away and I found you that day, down by Mrs. Snow's," +exulted Pollyanna, softly. "And I've known you ever since." + +"Oh, yes--and you've known me ever since," repeated Jimmy--but in a +far different voice: Jimmy had suddenly come back to the present, and +to his grievance. "But, then, I ain't 'JAMIE,' you know," he finished +with scornful emphasis, as he turned loftily away, leaving a +distressed, bewildered Pollyanna behind him. + +"Well, anyway, I can be glad he doesn't always act like this," sighed +the little girl, as she mournfully watched the sturdy, boyish figure +with its disagreeable, amazing swagger. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +AUNT POLLY TAKES ALARM + + +Pollyanna had been at home about a week when the letter from Della +Wetherby came to Mrs. Chilton. + +"I wish I could make you see what your little niece has done for my +sister," wrote Miss Wetherby; "but I'm afraid I can't. You would have +to know what she was before. You did see her, to be sure, and perhaps +you saw something of the hush and gloom in which she has shrouded +herself for so many years. But you can have no conception of her +bitterness of heart, her lack of aim and interest, her insistence upon +eternal mourning. + +"Then came Pollyanna. Probably I didn't tell you, but my sister +regretted her promise to take the child, almost the minute it was +given; and she made the stern stipulation that the moment Pollyanna +began to preach, back she should come to me. Well, she hasn't +preached--at least, my sister says she hasn't; and my sister ought to +know. And yet--well, just let me tell you what I found when I went to +see her yesterday. Perhaps nothing else could give you a better idea +of what that wonderful little Pollyanna of yours has accomplished. + +"To begin with, as I approached the house, I saw that nearly all the +shades were up: they used to be down--'way down to the sill. The +minute I stepped into the hall I heard music--Parsifal. The +drawing-rooms were open, and the air was sweet with roses. + +"'Mrs. Carew and Master Jamie are in the music-room,' said the maid. +And there I found them--my sister, and the youth she has taken into +her home, listening to one of those modern contrivances that can hold +an entire opera company, including the orchestra. + +"The boy was in a wheel chair. He was pale, but plainly beatifically +happy. My sister looked ten years younger. Her usually colorless +cheeks showed a faint pink, and her eyes glowed and sparkled. A little +later, after I had talked a few minutes with the boy, my sister and I +went up-stairs to her own rooms; and there she talked to me--of Jamie. +Not of the old Jamie, as she used to, with tear-wet eyes and hopeless +sighs, but of the new Jamie--and there were no sighs nor tears now. +There was, instead, the eagerness of enthusiastic interest. + +"'Della, he's wonderful,' she began. 'Everything that is best in +music, art, and literature seems to appeal to him in a perfectly +marvelous fashion, only, of course, he needs development and training. +That's what I'm going to see that he gets. A tutor is coming +to-morrow. Of course his language is something awful; at the same +time, he has read so many good books that his vocabulary is quite +amazing--and you should hear the stories he can reel off! Of course in +general education he is very deficient; but he's eager to learn, so +that will soon be remedied. He loves music, and I shall give him what +training in that he wishes. I have already put in a stock of carefully +selected records. I wish you could have seen his face when he first +heard that Holy Grail music. He knows all about King Arthur and his +Round Table, and he prattles of knights and lords and ladies as you +and I do of the members of our own family--only sometimes I don't know +whether his Sir Lancelot means the ancient knight or a squirrel in the +Public Garden. And, Della, I believe he can be made to walk. I'm going +to have Dr. Ames see him, anyway, and--' + +"And so on and on she talked, while I sat amazed and tongue-tied, but, +oh, so happy! I tell you all this, dear Mrs. Chilton, so you can see +for yourself how interested she is, how eagerly she is going to watch +this boy's growth and development, and how, in spite of herself, it is +all going to change her attitude toward life. She CAN'T do what she is +doing for this boy, Jamie, and not do for herself at the same time. +Never again, I believe, will she be the soured, morose woman she was +before. And it's all because of Pollyanna. + +"Pollyanna! Dear child--and the best part of it is, she is so +unconscious of the whole thing. I don't believe even my sister yet +quite realizes what is taking place within her own heart and life, and +certainly Pollyanna doesn't--least of all does she realize the part +she played in the change. + +"And now, dear Mrs. Chilton, how can I thank you? I know I can't; so +I'm not even going to try. Yet in your heart I believe you know how +grateful I am to both you and Pollyanna. + + "DELLA WETHERBY." + +"Well, it seems to have worked a cure, all right," smiled Dr. Chilton, +when his wife had finished reading the letter to him. + +To his surprise she lifted a quick, remonstrative hand. + +"Thomas, don't, please!" she begged. + +"Why, Polly, what's the matter? Aren't you glad that--that the +medicine worked?" + +Mrs. Chilton dropped despairingly back in her chair. + +"There you go again, Thomas," she sighed. "Of COURSE I'm glad that +this misguided woman has forsaken the error of her ways and found that +she can be of use to some one. And of course I'm glad that Pollyanna +did it. But I am not glad to have that child continually spoken of as +if she were a--a bottle of medicine, or a 'cure.' Don't you see?" + +"Nonsense! After all, where's the harm? I've called Pollyanna a tonic +ever since I knew her." + +"Harm! Thomas Chilton, that child is growing older every day. Do you +want to spoil her? Thus far she has been utterly unconscious of her +extraordinary power. And therein lies the secret of her success. The +minute she CONSCIOUSLY sets herself to reform somebody, you know as +well as I do that she will be simply impossible. Consequently, Heaven +forbid that she ever gets it into her head that she's anything like a +cure-all for poor, sick, suffering humanity." + +"Nonsense! I wouldn't worry," laughed the doctor. + +"But I do worry, Thomas." + +"But, Polly, think of what she's done," argued the doctor. "Think of +Mrs. Snow and John Pendleton, and quantities of others--why, they're +not the same people at all that they used to be, any more than Mrs. +Carew is. And Pollyanna did do it--bless her heart!" + +"I know she did," nodded Mrs. Polly Chilton, emphatically. "But I +don't want Pollyanna to know she did it! Oh, of course she knows it, +in a way. She knows she taught them to play the glad game with her, +and that they are lots happier in consequence. And that's all right. +It's a game--HER game, and they're playing it together. To you I will +admit that Pollyanna has preached to us one of the most powerful +sermons I ever heard; but the minute SHE knows it--well, I don't want +her to. That's all. And right now let me tell you that I've decided +that I will go to Germany with you this fall. At first I thought I +wouldn't. I didn't want to leave Pollyanna--and I'm not going to leave +her now. I'm going to take her with me." + +"Take her with us? Good! Why not?" + +"I've got to. That's all. Furthermore, I should be glad to plan to +stay a few years, just as you said you'd like to. I want to get +Pollyanna away, quite away from Beldingsville for a while. I'd like to +keep her sweet and unspoiled, if I can. And she shall not get silly +notions into her head if I can help myself. Why, Thomas Chilton, do we +want that child made an insufferable little prig?" + +"We certainly don't," laughed the doctor. "But, for that matter, I +don't believe anything or anybody could make her so. However, this +Germany idea suits me to a T. You know I didn't want to come away when +I did--if it hadn't been for Pollyanna. So the sooner we get back +there the better I'm satisfied. And I'd like to stay--for a little +practice, as well as study." + +"Then that's settled." And Aunt Polly gave a satisfied sigh. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +WHEN POLLYANNA WAS EXPECTED + + +All Beldingsville was fairly aquiver with excitement. Not since +Pollyanna Whittier came home from the Sanatorium, WALKING, had there +been such a chatter of talk over back-yard fences and on every street +corner. To-day, too, the center of interest was Pollyanna. Once again +Pollyanna was coming home--but so different a Pollyanna, and so +different a homecoming! + +Pollyanna was twenty now. For six years she had spent her winters in +Germany, her summers leisurely traveling with Dr. Chilton and his +wife. Only once during that time had she been in Beldingsville, and +then it was for but a short four weeks the summer she was sixteen. Now +she was coming home--to stay, report said; she and her Aunt Polly. + +The doctor would not be with them. Six months before, the town had +been shocked and saddened by the news that the doctor had died +suddenly. Beldingsville had expected then that Mrs. Chilton and +Pollyanna would return at once to the old home. But they had not come. +Instead had come word that the widow and her niece would remain abroad +for a time. The report said that, in entirely new surroundings, Mrs. +Chilton was trying to seek distraction and relief from her great +sorrow. + +Very soon, however, vague rumors, and rumors not so vague, began to +float through the town that, financially, all was not well with Mrs. +Polly Chilton. Certain railroad stocks, in which it was known that the +Harrington estate had been heavily interested, wavered uncertainly, +then tumbled into ruin and disaster. Other investments, according to +report, were in a most precarious condition. From the doctor's estate, +little could be expected. He had not been a rich man, and his expenses +had been heavy for the past six years. Beldingsville was not +surprised, therefore, when, not quite six months after the doctor's +death, word came that Mrs. Chilton and Pollyanna were coming home. + +Once more the old Harrington homestead, so long closed and silent, +showed up-flung windows and wide-open doors. Once more Nancy--now Mrs. +Timothy Durgin--swept and scrubbed and dusted until the old place +shone in spotless order. + +"No, I hain't had no instructions ter do it; I hain't, I hain't," +Nancy explained to curious friends and neighbors who halted at the +gate, or came more boldly up to the doorways. "Mother Durgin's had the +key, 'course, and has come in regerler to air up and see that things +was all right; and Mis' Chilton just wrote and said she and Miss +Pollyanna was comin' this week Friday, and ter please see that the +rooms and sheets was aired, and ter leave the key under the side-door +mat on that day. + +"Under the mat, indeed! Just as if I'd leave them two poor things ter +come into this house alone, and all forlorn like that--and me only a +mile away, a-sittin' in my own parlor like as if I was a fine lady an' +hadn't no heart at all, at all! Just as if the poor things hadn't +enough ter stand without that--a-comin' into this house an' the doctor +gone--bless his kind heart!--an' never comin' back. An' no money, too. +Did ye hear about that? An' ain't it a shame, a shame! Think of Miss +Polly--I mean, Mis' Chilton--bein' poor! My stars and stockings, I +can't sense it--I can't, I can't!" + +Perhaps to no one did Nancy speak so interestedly as she did to a +tall, good-looking young fellow with peculiarly frank eyes and a +particularly winning smile, who cantered up to the side door on a +mettlesome thoroughbred at ten o'clock that Thursday morning. At the +same time, to no one did she talk with so much evident embarrassment, +so far as the manner of address was concerned; for her tongue stumbled +and blundered out a "Master Jimmy--er--Mr. Bean--I mean, Mr. +Pendleton, Master Jimmy!" with a nervous precipitation that sent the +young man himself into a merry peal of laughter. + +"Never mind, Nancy! Let it go at whatever comes handiest," he +chuckled. "I've found out what I wanted to know: Mrs. Chilton and her +niece really are expected to-morrow." + +"Yes, sir, they be, sir," courtesied Nancy, "--more's the pity! Not +but that I shall be glad enough ter see 'em, you understand, but it's +the WAY they're a-comin'." + +"Yes, I know. I understand," nodded the youth, gravely, his eyes +sweeping the fine old house before him. "Well, I suppose that part +can't be helped. But I'm glad you're doing--just what you are doing. +That WILL help a whole lot," he finished with a bright smile, as he +wheeled about and rode rapidly down the driveway. + +Back on the steps Nancy wagged her head wisely. + +"I ain't surprised, Master Jimmy," she declared aloud, her admiring +eyes following the handsome figures of horse and man. "I ain't +surprised that you ain't lettin' no grass grow under your feet 'bout +inquirin' for Miss Pollyanna. I said long ago 'twould come sometime, +an' it's bound to--what with your growin' so handsome and tall. An' I +hope 'twill; I do, I do. It'll be just like a book, what with her +a-findin' you an' gettin' you into that grand home with Mr. Pendleton. +My, but who'd ever take you now for that little Jimmy Bean that used +to be! I never did see such a change in anybody--I didn't, I didn't!" +she answered, with one last look at the rapidly disappearing figures +far down the road. + +Something of the same thought must have been in the mind of John +Pendleton some time later that same morning, for, from the veranda of +his big gray house on Pendleton Hill, John Pendleton was watching the +rapid approach of that same horse and rider; and in his eyes was an +expression very like the one that had been in Mrs. Nancy Durgin's. On +his lips, too, was an admiring "Jove! what a handsome pair!" as the +two dashed by on the way to the stable. + +Five minutes later the youth came around the corner of the house and +slowly ascended the veranda steps. + +"Well, my boy, is it true? Are they coming?" asked the man, with +visible eagerness. + +"Yes." + +"When?" + +"To-morrow." The young fellow dropped himself into a chair. + +At the crisp terseness of the answer, John Pendleton frowned. He threw +a quick look into the young man's face. For a moment he hesitated; +then, a little abruptly, he asked: + +"Why, son, what's the matter?" + +"Matter? Nothing, sir." + +"Nonsense! I know better. You left here an hour ago so eager to be off +that wild horses could not have held you. Now you sit humped up in +that chair and look as if wild horses couldn't drag you out of it. If +I didn't know better I'd think you weren't glad that our friends are +coming." + +He paused, evidently for a reply. But he did not get it. + +"Why, Jim, AREN'T you glad they're coming?" + +The young fellow laughed and stirred restlessly. + +"Why, yes, of course." + +"Humph! You act like it." + +The youth laughed again. A boyish red flamed into his face. + +"Well, it's only that I was thinking--of Pollyanna." + +"Pollyanna! Why, man alive, you've done nothing but prattle of +Pollyanna ever since you came home from Boston and found she was +expected. I thought you were dying to see Pollyanna." + +The other leaned forward with curious intentness. + +"That's exactly it! See? You said it a minute ago. It's just as if +yesterday wild horses couldn't keep me from seeing Pollyanna; and now, +to-day, when I know she's coming--they couldn't drag me to see her." + +"Why, JIM!" + +At the shocked incredulity on John Pendleton's face, the younger man +fell back in his chair with an embarrassed laugh. + +"Yes, I know. It sounds nutty, and I don't expect I can make you +understand. But, somehow, I don't think--I ever wanted Pollyanna to +grow up. She was such a dear, just as she was. I like to think of her +as I saw her last, her earnest, freckled little face, her yellow +pigtails, her tearful: 'Oh, yes, I'm glad I'm going; but I think I +shall be a little gladder when I come back.' That's the last time I +saw her. You know we were in Egypt that time she was here four years +ago." + +"I know. I see exactly what you mean, too. I think I felt the same +way--till I saw her last winter in Rome." + +The other turned eagerly. + +"Sure enough, you have seen her! Tell me about her." + +A shrewd twinkle came into John Pendleton's eyes. + +"Oh, but I thought you didn't want to know Pollyanna--grown up." + +With a grimace the young fellow tossed this aside. + +"Is she pretty?" + +"Oh, ye young men!" shrugged John Pendleton, in mock despair. "Always +the first question--'Is she pretty?'!" + +"Well, is she?" insisted the youth. + +"I'll let you judge for yourself. If you--On second thoughts, though, +I believe I won't. You might be too disappointed. Pollyanna isn't +pretty, so far as regular features, curls, and dimples go. In fact, to +my certain knowledge the great cross in Pollyanna's life thus far is +that she is so sure she isn't pretty. Long ago she told me that black +curls were one of the things she was going to have when she got to +Heaven; and last year in Rome she said something else. It wasn't much, +perhaps, so far as words went, but I detected the longing beneath. She +said she did wish that sometime some one would write a novel with a +heroine who had straight hair and a freckle on her nose; but that she +supposed she ought to be glad girls in books didn't have to have +them." + +"That sounds like the old Pollyanna." + +"Oh, you'll still find her--Pollyanna," smiled the man, quizzically. +"Besides, _I_ think she's pretty. Her eyes are lovely. She is the +picture of health. She carries herself with all the joyous springiness +of youth, and her whole face lights up so wonderfully when she talks +that you quite forget whether her features are regular or not." + +"Does she still--play the game?" + +John Pendleton smiled fondly. + +"I imagine she plays it, but she doesn't say much about it now, I +fancy. Anyhow, she didn't to me, the two or three times I saw her." + +There was a short silence; then, a little slowly, young Pendleton +said: + +"I think that was one of the things that was worrying me. That game +has been so much to so many people. It has meant so much everywhere, +all through the town! I couldn't bear to think of her giving it up and +NOT playing it. At the same time I couldn't fancy a grown-up Pollyanna +perpetually admonishing people to be glad for something. Someway, +I--well, as I said, I--I just didn't want Pollyanna to grow up, +anyhow." + +"Well, I wouldn't worry," shrugged the elder man, with a peculiar +smile. "Always, with Pollyanna, you know, it was the 'clearing-up +shower,' both literally and figuratively; and I think you'll find she +lives up to the same principle now--though perhaps not quite in the +same way. Poor child, I fear she'll need some kind of game to make +existence endurable, for a while, at least." + +"Do you mean because Mrs. Chilton has lost her money? Are they so very +poor, then?" + +"I suspect they are. In fact, they are in rather bad shape, so far as +money matters go, as I happen to know. Mrs. Chilton's own fortune has +shrunk unbelievably, and poor Tom's estate is very small, and +hopelessly full of bad debts--professional services never paid for, +and that never will be paid for. Tom could never say no when his help +was needed, and all the dead beats in town knew it and imposed on him +accordingly. Expenses have been heavy with him lately. Besides, he +expected great things when he should have completed this special work +in Germany. Naturally he supposed his wife and Pollyanna were more +than amply provided for through the Harrington estate; so he had no +worry in that direction." + +"Hm-m; I see, I see. Too bad, too bad!" + +"But that isn't all. It was about two months after Tom's death that I +saw Mrs. Chilton and Pollyanna in Rome, and Mrs. Chilton then was in a +terrible state. In addition to her sorrow, she had just begun to get +an inkling of the trouble with her finances, and she was nearly +frantic. She refused to come home. She declared she never wanted to +see Beldingsville, or anybody in it, again. You see, she has always +been a peculiarly proud woman, and it was all affecting her in a +rather curious way. Pollyanna said that her aunt seemed possessed with +the idea that Beldingsville had not approved of her marrying Dr. +Chilton in the first place, at her age; and now that he was dead, she +felt that they were utterly out of sympathy in any grief that she +might show. She resented keenly, too, the fact that they must now know +that she was poor as well as widowed. In short, she had worked herself +Into an utterly morbid, wretched state, as unreasonable as it was +terrible. Poor little Pollyanna! It was a marvel to me how she stood +it. All is, if Mrs. Chilton kept it up, and continues to keep it up, +that child will be a wreck. That's why I said Pollyanna would need +some kind of a game if ever anybody did." + +"The pity of it!--to think of that happening to Pollyanna!" exclaimed +the young man, in a voice that was not quite steady. + +"Yes; and you can see all is not right by the way they are coming +to-day--so quietly, with not a word to anybody. That was Polly +Chilton's doings, I'll warrant. She didn't WANT to be met by anybody. +I understand she wrote to no one but her Old Tom's wife, Mrs. Durgin, +who had the keys." + +"Yes, so Nancy told me--good old soul! She'd got the whole house open, +and had contrived somehow to make it look as if it wasn't a tomb of +dead hopes and lost pleasures. Of course the grounds looked fairly +well, for Old Tom has kept them up, after a fashion. But it made my +heart ache--the whole thing." + +There was a long silence, then, curtly, John Pendleton suggested: + +"They ought to be met." + +"They will be met." + +"Are YOU going to the station?" + +"I am." + +"Then you know what train they're coming on." + +"Oh, no. Neither does Nancy." + +"Then how will you manage?" + +"I'm going to begin in the morning and go to every train till they +come," laughed the young man, a bit grimly. "Timothy's going, too, +with the family carriage. After all, there aren't many trains, anyway, +that they can come on, you know." + +"Hm-m, I know," said John Pendleton. "Jim, I admire your nerve, but +not your judgment. I'm glad you're going to follow your nerve and not +your judgment, however--and I wish you good luck." + +"Thank you, sir," smiled the young man dolefully. "I need 'em--your +good wishes--all right, all right, as Nancy says." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +WHEN POLLYANNA CAME + + +As the train neared Beldingsville, Pollyanna watched her aunt +anxiously. All day Mrs. Chilton had been growing more and more +restless, more and more gloomy; and Pollyanna was fearful of the time +when the familiar home station should be reached. + +As Pollyanna looked at her aunt, her heart ached. She was thinking +that she would not have believed it possible that any one could have +changed and aged so greatly in six short months. Mrs. Chilton's eyes +were lusterless, her cheeks pallid and shrunken, and her forehead +crossed and recrossed by fretful lines. Her mouth drooped at the +corners, and her hair was combed tightly back in the unbecoming +fashion that had been hers when Pollyanna first had seen her, years +before. All the softness and sweetness that seemed to have come to her +with her marriage had dropped from her like a cloak, leaving uppermost +the old hardness and sourness that had been hers when she was Miss +Polly Harrington, unloved, and unloving. + +"Pollyanna!" Mrs. Chilton's voice was incisive. + +Pollyanna started guiltily. She had an uncomfortable feeling that her +aunt might have read her thoughts. + +"Yes, auntie." + +"Where is that black bag--the little one?" + +"Right here." + +"Well, I wish you'd get out my black veil. We're nearly there." + +"But it's so hot and thick, auntie!" + +"Pollyanna, I asked for that black veil. If you'd please learn to do +what I ask without arguing about it, it would be a great deal easier +for me. I want that veil. Do you suppose I'm going to give all +Beldingsville a chance to see how I 'take it'?" + +"Oh, auntie, they'd never be there in THAT spirit," protested +Pollyanna, hurriedly rummaging in the black bag for the much-wanted +veil. "Besides, there won't be anybody there, anyway, to meet us. We +didn't tell any one we were coming, you know." + +"Yes, I know. We didn't TELL any one to meet us. But we instructed +Mrs. Durgin to have the rooms aired and the key under the mat for +to-day. Do you suppose Mary Durgin has kept that information to +herself? Not much! Half the town knows we're coming to-day, and a +dozen or more will 'happen around' the station about train time. I +know them! They want to see what Polly Harrington POOR looks like. +They--" + +"Oh, auntie, auntie," begged Pollyanna, with tears in her eyes. + +"If I wasn't so alone. If--the doctor were only here, and--" She +stopped speaking and turned away her head. Her mouth worked +convulsively. "Where is--that veil?" she choked huskily. + +"Yes, dear. Here it is--right here," comforted Pollyanna, whose only +aim now, plainly, was to get the veil into her aunt's hands with all +haste. "And here we are now almost there. Oh, auntie, I do wish you'd +had Old Tom or Timothy meet us!" + +"And ride home in state, as if we could AFFORD to keep such horses and +carriages? And when we know we shall have to sell them to-morrow? No, +I thank you, Pollyanna. I prefer to use the public carriage, under +those circumstances." + +"I know, but--" The train came to a jolting, jarring stop, and only a +fluttering sigh finished Pollyanna's sentence. + +As the two women stepped to the platform, Mrs. Chilton, in her black +veil, looked neither to the right nor the left. Pollyanna, however, +was nodding and smiling tearfully in half a dozen directions before +she had taken twice as many steps. Then, suddenly, she found herself +looking into a familiar, yet strangely unfamiliar face. + +"Why, it isn't--it IS--Jimmy!" she beamed, reaching forth a cordial +hand. "That is, I suppose I should say 'MR. PENDLETON,'" she corrected +herself with a shy smile that said plainly: "Now that you've grown so +tall and fine!" + +"I'd like to see you try it," challenged the youth, with a very +Jimmy-like tilt to his chin. He turned then to speak to Mrs. Chilton; +but that lady, with her head half averted, was hurrying on a little in +advance. + +He turned back to Pollyanna, his eyes troubled and sympathetic. + +"If you'd please come this way--both of you," he urged hurriedly. +"Timothy is here with the carriage." + +"Oh, how good of him," cried Pollyanna, but with an anxious glance at +the somber veiled figure ahead. Timidly she touched her aunt's arm. +"Auntie, dear, Timothy's here. He's come with the carriage. He's over +this side. And--this is Jimmy Bean, auntie. You remember Jimmy Bean!" + +In her nervousness and embarrassment Pollyanna did not notice that she +had given the young man the old name of his boyhood. Mrs. Chilton, +however, evidently did notice it. With palpable reluctance she turned +and inclined her head ever so slightly. + +"Mr.--Pendleton is very kind, I am sure; but--I am sorry that he or +Timothy took quite so much trouble," she said frigidly. + +"No trouble--no trouble at all, I assure you," laughed the young man, +trying to hide his embarrassment. "Now if you'll just let me have your +checks, so I can see to your baggage." + +"Thank you," began Mrs. Chilton, "but I am very sure we can--" + +But Pollyanna, with a relieved little "thank you!" had already passed +over the checks; and dignity demanded that Mrs. Chilton say no more. + +The drive home was a silent one. Timothy, vaguely hurt at the +reception he had met with at the hands of his former mistress, sat up +in front stiff and straight, with tense lips. Mrs. Chilton, after a +weary "Well, well, child, just as you please; I suppose we shall have +to ride home in it now!" had subsided into stern gloom. Pollyanna, +however, was neither stern, nor tense, nor gloomy. With eager, though +tearful eyes she greeted each loved landmark as they came to it. Only +once did she speak, and that was to say: + +"Isn't Jimmy fine? How he has improved! And hasn't he the nicest eyes +and smile?" + +She waited hopefully, but as there was no reply to this, she contented +herself with a cheerful: "Well, I think he has, anyhow." + +Timothy had been both too aggrieved and too afraid to tell Mrs. +Chilton what to expect at home; so the wide-flung doors and +flower-adorned rooms with Nancy courtesying on the porch were a +complete surprise to Mrs. Chilton and Pollyanna. + +"Why, Nancy, how perfectly lovely!" cried Pollyanna, springing lightly +to the ground. "Auntie, here's Nancy to welcome us. And only see how +charming she's made everything look!" + +Pollyanna's voice was determinedly cheerful, though it shook audibly. +This home-coming without the dear doctor whom she had loved so well +was not easy for her; and if hard for her, she knew something of what +it must be for her aunt. She knew, too, that the one thing her aunt +was dreading was a breakdown before Nancy, than which nothing could be +worse in her eyes. Behind the heavy black veil the eyes were brimming +and the lips were trembling, Pollyanna knew. She knew, too, that to +hide these facts her aunt would probably seize the first opportunity +for faultfinding, and make her anger a cloak to hide the fact that her +heart was breaking. Pollyanna was not surprised, therefore, to hear +her aunt's few cold words of greeting to Nancy followed by a sharp: +"Of course all this was very kind, Nancy; but, really, I would have +much preferred that you had not done it." + +All the joy fled from, Nancy's face. She looked hurt and frightened. + +"Oh, but Miss Polly--I mean, Mis' Chilton," she entreated; "it seemed +as if I couldn't let you--" + +"There, there, never mind, Nancy," interrupted Mrs. Chilton. "I--I +don't want to talk about it." And, with her head proudly high, she +swept out of the room. A minute later they heard the door of her +bedroom shut up-stairs. + +Nancy turned in dismay. + +"Oh, Miss Pollyanna, what is it? What have I done? I thought she'd +LIKE it. I meant it all right!" + +"Of course you did," wept Pollyanna, fumbling in her bag for her +handkerchief. "And 'twas lovely to have you do it, too,--just lovely." + +"But SHE didn't like it." + +"Yes, she did. But she didn't want to show she liked it. She was +afraid if she did she'd show--other things, and--Oh, Nancy, Nancy, I'm +so glad just to c-cry!" And Pollyanna was sobbing on Nancy's shoulder. + +"There, there, dear; so she shall, so she shall," soothed Nancy, +patting the heaving shoulders with one hand, and trying, with the +other, to make the corner of her apron serve as a handkerchief to wipe +her own tears away. + +"You see, I mustn't--cry--before--HER," faltered Pollyanna; "and it +WAS hard--coming here--the first time, you know, and all. And I KNEW +how she was feeling." + +"Of course, of course, poor lamb," crooned Nancy. "And to think the +first thing _I_ should have done was somethin' ter vex her, and--" + +"Oh, but she wasn't vexed at that," corrected Pollyanna, agitatedly. +"It's just her way, Nancy. You see, she doesn't like to show how badly +she feels about--about the doctor. And she's so afraid she WILL show +it that she--she just takes anything for an excuse to--to talk about. +She does it to me, too, just the same. So I know all about it. See?" + +"Oh, yes, I see, I do, I do." Nancy's lips snapped together a little +severely, and her sympathetic pats, for the minute, were even more +loving, if possible. "Poor lamb! I'm glad I come, anyhow, for your +sake." + +"Yes, so am I," breathed Pollyanna, gently drawing herself away and +wiping her eyes. "There, I feel better. And I do thank you ever so +much, Nancy, and I appreciate it. Now don't let us keep you when it's +time for you to go." + +"Ho! I'm thinkin' I'll stay for a spell," sniffed Nancy. + +"Stay! Why, Nancy, I thought you were married. Aren't you Timothy's +wife?" + +"Sure! But he won't mind--for you. He'd WANT me to stay--for you." + +"Oh, but, Nancy, we couldn't let you," demurred Pollyanna. "We can't +have anybody--now, you know. I'm going to do the work. Until we know +just how things are, we shall live very economically, Aunt Polly +says." + +"Ho! as if I'd take money from--" began Nancy, in bridling wrath; but +at the expression on the other's face she stopped, and let her words +dwindle off in a mumbling protest, as she hurried from the room to +look after her creamed chicken on the stove. + +Not until supper was over, and everything put in order, did Mrs. +Timothy Durgin consent to drive away with her husband; then she went +with evident reluctance, and with many pleadings to be allowed to come +"just ter help out a bit" at any time. + +After Nancy had gone, Pollyanna came into the living-room where Mrs. +Chilton was sitting alone, her hand over her eyes. + +"Well, dearie, shall I light up?" suggested Pollyanna, brightly. + +"Oh, I suppose so." + +"Wasn't Nancy a dear to fix us all up so nice?" + +No answer. + +"Where in the world she found all these flowers I can't imagine. She +has them in every room down here, and in both bedrooms, too." + +Still no answer. + +Pollyanna gave a half-stifled sigh and threw a wistful glance into her +aunt's averted face. After a moment she began again hopefully. + +"I saw Old Tom in the garden. Poor man, his rheumatism is worse than +ever. He was bent nearly double. He inquired very particularly for +you, and--" + +Mrs. Chilton turned with a sharp interruption. + +"Pollyanna, what are we going to do?" + +"Do? Why, the best we can, of course, dearie." + +Mrs. Chilton gave an impatient gesture. + +"Come, come, Pollyanna, do be serious for once. You'll find it is +serious, fast enough. WHAT are we going to DO? As you know, my income +has almost entirely stopped. Of course, some of the things are worth +something, I suppose; but Mr. Hart says very few of them will pay +anything at present. We have something in the bank, and a little +coming in, of course. And we have this house. But of what earthly use +is the house? We can't eat it, or wear it. It's too big for us, the +way we shall have to live; and we couldn't sell it for half what it's +really worth, unless we HAPPENED to find just the person that wanted +it." + +"Sell it! Oh, auntie, you wouldn't--this beautiful house full of +lovely things!" + +"I may have to, Pollyanna. We have to eat--unfortunately." + +"I know it; and I'm always SO hungry," mourned Pollyanna, with a +rueful laugh. "Still, I suppose I ought to be glad my appetite is so +good." + +"Very likely. You'd find something to be glad about, of course. But +what shall we do, child? I do wish you'd be serious for a minute." + +A quick change came to Pollyanna's face. + +"I am serious, Aunt Polly. I've been thinking. I--I wish I could earn +some money." + +"Oh, child, child, to think of my ever living to hear you say that!" +moaned the woman; "--a daughter of the Harringtons having to earn her +bread!" + +"Oh, but that isn't the way to look at it," laughed Pollyanna. "You +ought to be glad if a daughter of the Harringtons is SMART enough to +earn her bread! That isn't any disgrace, Aunt Polly." + +"Perhaps not; but it isn't very pleasant to one's pride, after the +position we've always occupied in Beldingsville, Pollyanna." + +Pollyanna did not seem to have heard. Her eyes were musingly fixed on +space. + +"If only I had some talent! If only I could do something better than +anybody else in the world," she sighed at last. "I can sing a little, +play a little, embroider a little, and darn a little; but I can't do +any of them well--not well enough to be paid for it. + +"I think I'd like best to cook," she resumed, after a minute's +silence, "and keep house. You know I loved that in Germany winters, +when Gretchen used to bother us so much by not coming when we wanted +her. But I don't exactly want to go into other people's kitchens to do +it." + +"As if I'd let you! Pollyanna!" shuddered Mrs. Chilton again. + +"And of course, to just work in our own kitchen here doesn't bring in +anything," bemoaned Pollyanna, "--not any money, I mean. And it's +money we need." + +"It most emphatically is," sighed Aunt Polly. + +There was a long silence, broken at last by Pollyanna. + +"To think that after all you've done for me, auntie--to think that +now, if I only could, I'd have such a splendid chance to help! And +yet--I can't do it. Oh, why wasn't I born with something that's worth +money?" + +"There, there, child, don't, don't! Of course, if the doctor--" The +words choked into silence. + +Pollyanna looked up quickly, and sprang to her feet. + +"Dear, dear, this will never do!" she exclaimed, with a complete +change of manner. "Don't you fret, auntie. What'll you wager that I +don't develop the most marvelous talent going, one of these days? +Besides, _I_ think it's real exciting--all this. There's so much +uncertainty in it. There's a lot of fun in wanting things--and then +watching for them to come. Just living along and KNOWING you're going +to have everything you want is so--so humdrum, you know," she +finished, with a gay little laugh. + +Mrs. Chilton, however, did not laugh. She only sighed and said: + +"Dear me, Pollyanna, what a child you are!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +A MATTER OF ADJUSTMENT + + +The first few days at Beldingsville were not easy either for Mrs. +Chilton or for Pollyanna. They were days of adjustment; and days of +adjustment are seldom easy. + +From travel and excitement it was not easy to put one's mind to the +consideration of the price of butter and the delinquencies of the +butcher. From having all one's time for one's own, it was not easy to +find always the next task clamoring to be done. Friends and neighbors +called, too, and although Pollyanna welcomed them with glad +cordiality, Mrs. Chilton, when possible, excused herself; and always +she said bitterly to Pollyanna: + +"Curiosity, I suppose, to see how Polly Harrington likes being poor." + +Of the doctor Mrs. Chilton seldom spoke, yet Pollyanna knew very well +that almost never was he absent from her thoughts; and that more than +half her taciturnity was but her usual cloak for a deeper emotion +which she did not care to show. + +Jimmy Pendleton Pollyanna saw several times during that first month. +He came first with John Pendleton for a somewhat stiff and ceremonious +call--not that it was either stiff or ceremonious until after Aunt +Polly came into the room; then it was both. For some reason Aunt Polly +had not excused herself on this occasion. After that Jimmy had come by +himself, once with flowers, once with a book for Aunt Polly, twice +with no excuse at all. Pollyanna welcomed him with frank pleasure +always. Aunt Polly, after that first time, did not see him at all. + +To the most of their friends and acquaintances Pollyanna said little +about the change in their circumstances. To Jimmy, however, she talked +freely, and always her constant cry was: "If only I could do something +to bring in some money!" + +"I'm getting to be the most mercenary little creature you ever saw," +she laughed dolefully. "I've got so I measure everything with a dollar +bill, and I actually think in quarters and dimes. You see, Aunt Polly +does feel so poor!" + +"It's a shame!" stormed Jimmy. + +"I know it. But, honestly, I think she feels a little poorer than she +needs to--she's brooded over it so. But I do wish I could help!" + +Jimmy looked down at the wistful, eager face with its luminous eyes, +and his own eyes softened. + +[Illustration: See Frontispiece: "Jimmy looked down at the wistful, +eager face"] + +"What do you WANT to do--if you could do it?" he asked. + +"Oh, I want to cook and keep house," smiled Pollyanna, with a pensive +sigh. "I just love to beat eggs and sugar, and hear the soda gurgle +its little tune in the cup of sour milk. I'm happy if I've got a day's +baking before me. But there isn't any money in that--except in +somebody else's kitchen, of course. And I--I don't exactly love it +well enough for that!" + +"I should say not!" ejaculated the young fellow. + +Once more he glanced down at the expressive face so near him. This +time a queer look came to the corners of his mouth. He pursed his +lips, then spoke, a slow red mounting to his forehead. + +"Well, of course you might--marry. Have you thought of that--Miss +Pollyanna?" + +Pollyanna gave a merry laugh. Voice and manner were unmistakably those +of a girl quite untouched by even the most far-reaching of Cupid's +darts. + +"Oh, no, I shall never marry," she said blithely. "In the first place +I'm not pretty, you know; and in the second place, I'm going to live +with Aunt Polly and take care of her." + +"Not pretty, eh?" smiled Pendleton, quizzically. "Did it +ever--er--occur to you that there might be a difference of opinion on +that, Pollyanna?" + +Pollyanna shook her head. + +"There couldn't be. I've got a mirror, you see," she objected, with a +merry glance. + +It sounded like coquetry. In any other girl it would have been +coquetry, Pendleton decided. But, looking into the face before him +now, Pendleton knew that it was not coquetry. He knew, too, suddenly, +why Pollyanna had seemed so different from any girl he had ever known. +Something of her old literal way of looking at things still clung to +her. + +"Why aren't you pretty?" he asked. + +Even as he uttered the question, and sure as he was of his estimate of +Pollyanna's character, Pendleton quite held his breath at his +temerity. He could not help thinking of how quickly any other girl he +knew would have resented that implied acceptance of her claim to no +beauty. But Pollyanna's first words showed him that even this lurking +fear of his was quite groundless. + +"Why, I just am not," she laughed, a little ruefully. "I wasn't made +that way. Maybe you don't remember, but long ago, when I was a little +girl, it always seemed to me that one of the nicest things Heaven was +going to give me when I got there was black curls." + +"And is that your chief desire now?" + +"N-no, maybe not," hesitated Pollyanna. "But I still think I'd like +them. Besides, my eyelashes aren't long enough, and my nose isn't +Grecian, or Roman, or any of those delightfully desirable ones that +belong to a 'type.' It's just NOSE. And my face is too long, or too +short, I've forgotten which; but I measured it once with one of those +'correct-for-beauty' tests, and it wasn't right, anyhow. And they said +the width of the face should be equal to five eyes, and the width of +the eyes equal to--to something else. I've forgotten that, too--only +that mine wasn't." + +"What a lugubrious picture!" laughed Pendleton. Then, with his gaze +admiringly regarding the girl's animated face and expressive eyes, he +asked: + +"Did you ever look in the mirror when you were talking, Pollyanna?" + +"Why, no, of course not!" + +"Well, you'd better try it sometime." + +"What a funny idea! Imagine my doing it," laughed the girl. "What +shall I say? Like this? 'Now, you, Pollyanna, what if your eyelashes +aren't long, and your nose is just a nose, be glad you've got SOME +eyelashes and SOME nose!'" + +Pendleton joined in her laugh, but an odd expression came to his face. + +"Then you still play--the game," he said, a little diffidently. + +Pollyanna turned soft eyes of wonder full upon him. + +"Why, of course! Why, Jimmy, I don't believe I could have lived--the +last six months--if it hadn't been for that blessed game." Her voice +shook a little. + +"I haven't heard you say much about it," he commented. + +She changed color. + +"I know. I think I'm afraid--of saying too much--to outsiders, who +don't care, you know. It wouldn't sound quite the same from me now, at +twenty, as it did when I was ten. I realize that, of course. Folks +don't like to be preached at, you know," she finished with a whimsical +smile. + +"I know," nodded the young fellow gravely. "But I wonder sometimes, +Pollyanna, if you really understand yourself what that game is, and +what it has done for those who are playing it." + +"I know--what it has done for myself." Her voice was low, and her eyes +were turned away. + +"You see, it really WORKS, if you play it," he mused aloud, after a +short silence. "Somebody said once that it would revolutionize the +world if everybody would really play it. And I believe it would." + +"Yes; but some folks don't want to be revolutionized," smiled +Pollyanna. "I ran across a man in Germany last year. He had lost his +money, and was in hard luck generally. Dear, dear, but he was gloomy! +Somebody in my presence tried to cheer him up one day by saying, +'Come, come, things might be worse, you know!' Dear, dear, but you +should have heard that man then! + +"'If there is anything on earth that makes me mad clear through,' he +snarled, 'it is to be told that things might be worse, and to be +thankful for what I've got left. These people who go around with an +everlasting grin on their faces caroling forth that they are thankful +that they can breathe, or eat, or walk, or lie down, I have no use +for. I don't WANT to breathe, or eat, or walk, or lie down--if things +are as they are now with me. And when I'm told that I ought to be +thankful for some such tommyrot as that, it makes me just want to go +out and shoot somebody!'" + +"Imagine what I'D have gotten if I'd have introduced the glad game to +that man!" laughed Pollyanna. + +"I don't care. He needed it," answered Jimmy. + +"Of course he did--but he wouldn't have thanked me for giving it to +him." + +"I suppose not. But, listen! As he was, under his present philosophy +and scheme of living, he made himself and everybody else wretched, +didn't he? Well, just suppose he was playing the game. While he was +trying to hunt up something to be glad about in everything that had +happened to him, he COULDN'T be at the same time grumbling and +growling about how bad things were; so that much would be gained. He'd +be a whole lot easier to live with, both for himself and for his +friends. Meanwhile, just thinking of the doughnut instead of the hole +couldn't make things any worse for him, and it might make things +better; for it wouldn't give him such a gone feeling in the pit of his +stomach, and his digestion would be better. I tell you, troubles are +poor things to hug. They've got too many prickers." + +Pollyanna smiled appreciatively. + +"That makes me think of what I told a poor old lady once. She was one +of my Ladies' Aiders out West, and was one of the kind of people that +really ENJOYS being miserable and telling over her causes for +unhappiness. I was perhaps ten years old, and was trying to teach her +the game. I reckon I wasn't having very good success, and evidently I +at last dimly realized the reason, for I said to her triumphantly: +'Well, anyhow, you can be glad you've got such a lot of things to make +you miserable, for you love to be miserable so well!'" + +"Well, if that wasn't a good one on her," chuckled Jimmy. + +Pollyanna raised her eyebrows. + +"I'm afraid she didn't enjoy it any more than the man in Germany would +have if I'd told him the same thing." + +"But they ought to be told, and you ought to tell--" Pendleton stopped +short with so queer an expression on his face that Pollyanna looked at +him in surprise. + +"Why, Jimmy, what is it?" + +"Oh, nothing. I was only thinking," he answered, puckering his lips. +"Here I am urging you to do the very thing I was afraid you WOULD do +before I saw you, you know. That is, I was afraid before I saw you, +that--that--" He floundered into a helpless pause, looking very red +indeed. + +"Well, Jimmy Pendleton," bridled the girl, "you needn't think you can +stop there, sir. Now just what do you mean by all that, please?" + +"Oh, er--n-nothing, much." + +"I'm waiting," murmured Pollyanna. Voice and manner were calm and +confident, though the eyes twinkled mischievously. + +The young fellow hesitated, glanced at her smiling face, and +capitulated. + +"Oh, well, have it your own way," he shrugged. "It's only that I was +worrying--a little--about that game, for fear you WOULD talk it just +as you used to, you know, and--" But a merry peal of laughter +interrupted him. + +"There, what did I tell you? Even you were worried, it seems, lest I +should be at twenty just what I was at ten!" + +"N-no, I didn't mean--Pollyanna, honestly, I thought--of course I +knew--" But Pollyanna only put her hands to her ears and went off into +another peal of laughter. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +TWO LETTERS + + +It was toward the latter part of June that the letter came to +Pollyanna from Della Wetherby. + +"I am writing to ask you a favor," Miss Wetherby wrote. "I am hoping +you can tell me of some quiet private family in Beldingsville that +will be willing to take my sister to board for the summer. There would +be three of them, Mrs. Carew, her secretary, and her adopted son, +Jamie. (You remember Jamie, don't you?) They do not like to go to an +ordinary hotel or boarding house. My sister is very tired, and the +doctor has advised her to go into the country for a complete rest and +change. He suggested Vermont or New Hampshire. We immediately thought +of Beldingsville and you; and we wondered if you couldn't recommend +just the right place to us. I told Ruth I would write you. They would +like to go right away, early in July, if possible. Would it be asking +too much to request you to let us know as soon as you conveniently can +if you do know of a place? Please address me here. My sister is with +us here at the Sanatorium for a few weeks' treatment. + +"Hoping for a favorable reply, I am, + + "Most cordially yours, + + "DELLA WETHERBY." + +For the first few minutes after the letter was finished, Pollyanna sat +with frowning brow, mentally searching the homes of Beldingsville for +a possible boarding house for her old friends. Then a sudden something +gave her thoughts a new turn, and with a joyous exclamation she +hurried to her aunt in the living-room. + +"Auntie, auntie," she panted; "I've got just the loveliest idea. I +told you something would happen, and that I'd develop that wonderful +talent sometime. Well, I have. I have right now. Listen! I've had a +letter from Miss Wetherby, Mrs. Carew's sister--where I stayed that +winter in Boston, you know--and they want to come into the country to +board for the summer, and Miss Wetherby's written to see if I didn't +know a place for them. They don't want a hotel or an ordinary boarding +house, you see. And at first I didn't know of one; but now I do. I do, +Aunt Polly! Just guess where 'tis." + +"Dear me, child," ejaculated Mrs. Chilton, "how you do run on! I +should think you were a dozen years old instead of a woman grown. Now +what are you talking about?" + +"About a boarding place for Mrs. Carew and Jamie. I've found it," +babbled Pollyanna. + +"Indeed! Well, what of it? Of what possible interest can that be to +me, child?" murmured Mrs. Chilton, drearily. + +"Because it's HERE. I'm going to have them here, auntie." + +"Pollyanna!" Mrs. Chilton was sitting erect in horror. + +"Now, auntie, please don't say no--please don't," begged Pollyanna, +eagerly. "Don't you see? This is my chance, the chance I've been +waiting for; and it's just dropped right into my hands. We can do it +lovely. We have plenty of room, and you know I CAN cook and keep +house. And now there'd be money in it, for they'd pay well, I know; +and they'd love to come, I'm sure. There'd be three of them--there's a +secretary with them." + +"But, Pollyanna, I can't! Turn this house into a boarding house?--the +Harrington homestead a common boarding house? Oh, Pollyanna, I can't, +I can't!" + +"But it wouldn't be a common boarding house, dear. 'Twill be an +uncommon one. Besides, they're our friends. It would be like having +our friends come to see us; only they'd be PAYING guests, so meanwhile +we'd be earning money--money that we NEED, auntie, money that we +need," she emphasized significantly. + +A spasm of hurt pride crossed Polly Chilton's face. With a low moan +she fell back in her chair. + +"But how could you do it?" she asked at last, faintly. "You couldn't +do the work part alone, child!" + +"Oh, no, of course not," chirped Pollyanna. (Pollyanna was on sure +ground now. She knew her point was won.) "But I could do the cooking +and the overseeing, and I'm sure I could get one of Nancy's younger +sisters to help about the rest. Mrs. Durgin would do the laundry part +just as she does now." + +"But, Pollyanna, I'm not well at all--you know I'm not. I couldn't do +much." + +"Of course not. There's no reason why you should," scorned Pollyanna, +loftily. "Oh, auntie, won't it be splendid? Why, it seems too good to +be true--money just dropped into my hands like that!" + +"Dropped into your hands, indeed! You still have some things to learn +in this world, Pollyanna, and one is that summer boarders don't drop +money into anybody's hands without looking very sharply to it that +they get ample return. By the time you fetch and carry and bake and +brew until you are ready to sink, and by the time you nearly kill +yourself trying to serve everything to order from fresh-laid eggs to +the weather, you will believe what I tell you." + +"All right, I'll remember," laughed Pollyanna. "But I'm not doing any +worrying now; and I'm going to hurry and write Miss Wetherby at once +so I can give it to Jimmy Bean to mail when he comes out this +afternoon." + +Mrs. Chilton stirred restlessly. + +"Pollyanna, I do wish you'd call that young man by his proper name. +That 'Bean' gives me the shivers. His name is 'Pendleton' now, as I +understand it." + +"So it is," agreed Pollyanna, "but I do forget it half the time. I +even call him that to his face, sometimes, and of course that's +dreadful, when he really is adopted, and all. But you see I'm so +excited," she finished, as she danced from the room. + +She had the letter all ready for Jimmy when he called at four o'clock. +She was still quivering--with excitement, and she lost no time in +telling her visitor what it was all about. + +"And I'm crazy to see them, besides," she cried, when she had told him +of her plans. "I've never seen either of them since that winter. You +know I told you--didn't I tell you?--about Jamie." + +"Oh, yes, you told me." There was a touch of constraint in the young +man's voice. + +"Well, isn't it splendid, if they can come?" + +"Why, I don't know as I should call it exactly splendid," he parried. + +"Not splendid that I've got such a chance to help Aunt Polly out, for +even this little while? Why, Jimmy, of course it's splendid." + +"Well, it strikes me that it's going to be rather HARD--for you," +bridled Jimmy, with more than a shade of irritation. + +"Yes, of course, in some ways. But I shall be so glad for the money +coming in that I'll think of that all the time. You see," she sighed, +"how mercenary I am, Jimmy." + +For a long minute there was no reply; then, a little abruptly, the +young man asked: + +"Let's see, how old is this Jamie now?" + +Pollyanna glanced up with a merry smile. + +"Oh, I remember--you never did like his name, 'Jamie,'" she twinkled. +"Never mind; he's adopted now, legally, I believe, and has taken the +name of Carew. So you can call him that." + +"But that isn't telling me how old he is," reminded Jimmy, stiffly. + +"Nobody knows, exactly, I suppose. You know he couldn't tell; but I +imagine he's about your age. I wonder how he is now. I've asked all +about it in this letter, anyway." + +"Oh, you have!" Pendleton looked down at the letter in his hand and +flipped it a little spitefully. He was thinking that he would like to +drop it, to tear it up, to give it to somebody, to throw it away, to +do anything with it--but mail it. + +Jimmy knew perfectly well that he was jealous, that he always had been +jealous of this youth with the name so like and yet so unlike his own. +Not that he was in love with Pollyanna, he assured himself wrathfully. +He was not that, of course. It was just that he did not care to have +this strange youth with the sissy name come to Beldingsville and be +always around to spoil all their good times. He almost said as much to +Pollyanna, but something stayed the words on his lips; and after a +time he took his leave, carrying the letter with him. + +That Jimmy did not drop the letter, tear it up, give it to anybody, or +throw it away was evidenced a few days later, for Pollyanna received a +prompt and delighted reply from Miss Wetherby; and when Jimmy came +next time he heard it read--or rather he heard part of it, for +Pollyanna prefaced the reading by saying: + +"Of course the first part is just where she says how glad they are to +come, and all that. I won't read that. But the rest I thought you'd +like to hear, because you've heard me talk so much about them. +Besides, you'll know them yourself pretty soon, of course. I'm +depending a whole lot on you, Jimmy, to help me make it pleasant for +them." + +"Oh, are you!" + +"Now don't be sarcastic, just because you don't like Jamie's name," +reproved Pollyanna, with mock severity. "You'll like HIM, I'm sure, +when you know him; and you'll LOVE Mrs. Carew." + +"Will I, indeed?" retorted Jimmy huffily. "Well, that IS a serious +prospect. Let us hope, if I do, the lady will be so gracious as to +reciprocate." + +"Of course," dimpled Pollyanna. "Now listen, and I'll read to you +about her. This letter is from her sister, Della--Miss Wetherby, you +know, at the Sanatorium." + +"All right. Go ahead!" directed Jimmy, with a somewhat too evident +attempt at polite interest. And Pollyanna, still smiling +mischievously, began to read. + +"You ask me to tell you everything about everybody. That is a large +commission, but I'll do the best I can. To begin with, I think you'll +find my sister quite changed. The new interests that have come into +her life during the last six years have done wonders for her. Just now +she is a bit thin and tired from overwork, but a good rest will soon +remedy that, and you'll see how young and blooming and happy she +looks. Please notice I said HAPPY. That won't mean so much to you as +it does to me, of course, for you were too young to realize quite how +unhappy she was when you first knew her that winter in Boston. Life +was such a dreary, hopeless thing to her then; and now it is so full +of interest and joy. + +"First she has Jamie, and when you see them together you won't need to +be told what he is to her. To be sure, we are no nearer knowing +whether he is the REAL Jamie, or not, but my sister loves him like an +own son now, and has legally adopted him, as I presume you know. + +"Then she has her girls. Do you remember Sadie Dean, the salesgirl? +Well, from getting interested in her, and trying to help her to a +happier living, my sister has broadened her efforts little by little, +until she has scores of girls now who regard her as their own best and +particular good angel. She has started a Home for Working Girls along +new lines. Half a dozen wealthy and influential men and women are +associated with her, of course, but she is head and shoulders of the +whole thing, and never hesitates to give HERSELF to each and every one +of the girls. You can imagine what that means in nerve strain. Her +chief support and right-hand man is her secretary, this same Sadie +Dean. You'll find HER changed, too, yet she is the same old Sadie. + +"As for Jamie--poor Jamie! The great sorrow of his life is that he +knows now he can never walk. For a time we all had hopes. He was here +at the Sanatorium under Dr. Ames for a year, and he improved to such +an extent that he can go now with crutches. But the poor boy will +always be a cripple--so far as his feet are concerned, but never as +regards anything else. Someway, after you know Jamie, you seldom think +of him as a cripple, his SOUL is so free. I can't explain it, but +you'll know what I mean when you see him; and he has retained, to a +marvelous degree, his old boyish enthusiasm and joy of living. There +is just one thing--and only one, I believe--that would utterly quench +that bright spirit and cast him into utter despair; and that is to +find that he is not Jamie Kent, our nephew. So long has he brooded +over this, and so ardently has he wished it, that he has come actually +to believe that he IS the real Jamie; but if he isn't, I hope he will +never find it out." + +"There, that's all she says about them," announced Pollyanna, folding +up the closely-written sheets in her hands. "But isn't that +interesting?" + +"Indeed it is!" There was a ring of genuineness in Jimmy's voice now. +Jimmy was thinking suddenly of what his own good legs meant to him. He +even, for the moment, was willing that this poor crippled youth should +have a PART of Pollyanna's thoughts and attentions, if he were not so +presuming as to claim too much of them, of course! "By George! it is +tough for the poor chap, and no mistake." + +"Tough! You don't know anything about it, Jimmy Bean," choked +Pollyanna; "but _I_ do. _I_ couldn't walk once. _I_ KNOW!" + +"Yes, of course, of course," frowned the youth, moving restively in +his seat. Jimmy, looking into Pollyanna's sympathetic face and +brimming eyes was suddenly not so sure, after all, that he WAS willing +to have this Jamie come to town--if just to THINK of him made +Pollyanna look like that! + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE PAYING GUESTS + + +The few intervening days before the expected arrival of "those +dreadful people," as Aunt Polly termed her niece's paying guests, were +busy ones indeed for Pollyanna--but they were happy ones, too, as +Pollyanna refused to be weary, or discouraged, or dismayed, no matter +how puzzling were the daily problems she had to meet. + +Summoning Nancy, and Nancy's younger sister, Betty, to her aid, +Pollyanna systematically went through the house, room by room, and +arranged for the comfort and convenience of her expected boarders. +Mrs. Chilton could do but little to assist. In the first place she was +not well. In the second place her mental attitude toward the whole +idea was not conducive to aid or comfort, for at her side stalked +always the Harrington pride of name and race, and on her lips was the +constant moan: + +"Oh, Pollyanna, Pollyanna, to think of the Harrington homestead ever +coming to this!" + +"It isn't, dearie," Pollyanna at last soothed laughingly. "It's the +Carews that are COMING TO THE HARRINGTON HOMESTEAD!" + +But Mrs. Chilton was not to be so lightly diverted, and responded only +with a scornful glance and a deeper sigh, so Pollyanna was forced to +leave her to travel alone her road of determined gloom. + +Upon the appointed day, Pollyanna with Timothy (who owned the +Harrington horses now) went to the station to meet the afternoon +train. Up to this hour there had been nothing but confidence and +joyous anticipation in Pollyanna's heart. But with the whistle of the +engine there came to her a veritable panic of doubt, shyness, and +dismay. She realized suddenly what she, Pollyanna, almost alone and +unaided, was about to do. She remembered Mrs. Carew's wealth, +position, and fastidious tastes. She recollected, too, that this would +be a new, tall, young-man Jamie, quite unlike the boy she had known. + +For one awful moment she thought only of getting away--somewhere, +anywhere. + +"Timothy, I--I feel sick. I'm not well. I--tell 'em--er--not to come," +she faltered, poising as if for flight. + +"Ma'am!" exclaimed the startled Timothy. + +One glance into Timothy's amazed face was enough. Pollyanna laughed +and threw back her shoulders alertly. + +"Nothing. Never mind! I didn't mean it, of course, Timothy. +Quick--see! They're almost here," she panted. And Pollyanna hurried +forward, quite herself once more. + +She knew them at once. Even had there been any doubt in her mind, the +crutches in the hands of the tall, brown-eyed young man would have +piloted her straight to her goal. + +There were a brief few minutes of eager handclasps and incoherent +exclamations, then, somehow, she found herself in the carriage with +Mrs. Carew at her side, and Jamie and Sadie Dean in front. She had a +chance, then, for the first time, really to see her friends, and to +note the changes the six years had wrought. + +In regard to Mrs. Carew, her first feeling was one of surprise. She +had forgotten that Mrs. Carew was so lovely. She had forgotten that +the eyelashes were so long, that the eyes they shaded were so +beautiful. She even caught herself thinking enviously of how exactly +that perfect face must tally, figure by figure, with that dread +beauty-test-table. But more than anything else she rejoiced in the +absence of the old fretful lines of gloom and bitterness. + +Then she turned to Jamie. Here again she was surprised, and for much +the same reason. Jamie, too, had grown handsome. To herself Pollyanna +declared that he was really distinguished looking. His dark eyes, +rather pale face, and dark, waving hair she thought most attractive. +Then she caught a glimpse of the crutches at his side, and a spasm of +aching sympathy contracted her throat. + +From Jamie Pollyanna turned to Sadie Dean. + +Sadie, so far as features went, looked much as she had when Pollyanna +first saw her in the Public Garden; but Pollyanna did not need a +second glance to know that Sadie, so far as hair, dress, temper, +speech, and disposition were concerned, was a very different Sadie +indeed. + +Then Jamie spoke. + +"How good you were to let us come," he said to Pollyanna. "Do you know +what I thought of when you wrote that we could come?" + +"Why, n-no, of course not," stammered Pollyanna. Pollyanna was still +seeing the crutches at Jamie's side, and her throat was still +tightened from that aching sympathy. + +"Well, I thought of the little maid in the Public Garden with her bag +of peanuts for Sir Lancelot and Lady Guinevere, and I knew that you +were just putting us in their places, for if you had a bag of peanuts, +and we had none, you wouldn't be happy till you'd shared it with us." + +"A bag of peanuts, indeed!" laughed Pollyanna. + +"Oh, of course in this case, your bag of peanuts happened to be airy +country rooms, and cow's milk, and real eggs from a real hen's nest," +returned Jamie whimsically; "but it amounts to the same thing. And +maybe I'd better warn you--you remember how greedy Sir Lancelot +was;--well--" He paused meaningly. + +"All right, I'll take the risk," dimpled Pollyanna, thinking how glad +she was that Aunt Polly was not present to hear her worst predictions +so nearly fulfilled thus early. "Poor Sir Lancelot! I wonder if +anybody feeds him now, or if he's there at all." + +"Well, if he's there, he's fed," interposed Mrs. Carew, merrily. "This +ridiculous boy still goes down there at least once a week with his +pockets bulging with peanuts and I don't know what all. He can be +traced any time by the trail of small grains he leaves behind him; and +half the time, when I order my cereal for breakfast it isn't +forthcoming, because, forsooth, 'Master Jamie has fed it to the +pigeons, ma'am!'" + +"Yes, but let me tell you," plunged in Jamie, enthusiastically. And +the next minute Pollyanna found herself listening with all the old +fascination to a story of a couple of squirrels in a sunlit garden. +Later she saw what Della Wetherby had meant in her letter, for when +the house was reached, it came as a distinct shock to her to see Jamie +pick up his crutches and swing himself out of the carriage with their +aid. She knew then that already in ten short minutes he had made her +forget that he was lame. + +To Pollyanna's great relief that first dreaded meeting between Aunt +Polly and the Carew party passed off much better than she had feared. +The newcomers were so frankly delighted with the old house and +everything in it, that it was an utter impossibility for the mistress +and owner of it all to continue her stiff attitude of disapproving +resignation to their presence. Besides, as was plainly evident before +an hour had passed, the personal charm and magnetism of Jamie had +pierced even Aunt Polly's armor of distrust; and Pollyanna knew that +at least one of her own most dreaded problems was a problem no longer, +for already Aunt Polly was beginning to play the stately, yet gracious +hostess to these, her guests. + +Notwithstanding her relief at Aunt Polly's change of attitude, +however, Pollyanna did not find that all was smooth sailing, by any +means. There was work, and plenty of it, that must be done. Nancy's +sister, Betty, was pleasant and willing, but she was not Nancy, as +Pollyanna soon found. She needed training, and training took time. +Pollyanna worried, too, for fear everything should not be quite right. +To Pollyanna, those days, a dusty chair was a crime and a fallen cake +a tragedy. + +Gradually, however, after incessant arguments and pleadings on the +part of Mrs. Carew and Jamie, Pollyanna came to take her tasks more +easily, and to realize that the real crime and tragedy in her friends' +eyes was, not the dusty chair nor the fallen cake, but the frown of +worry and anxiety on her own face. + +"Just as if it wasn't enough for you to LET us come," Jamie declared, +"without just killing yourself with work to get us something to eat." + +"Besides, we ought not to eat so much, anyway," Mrs. Carew laughed, +"or else we shall get 'digestion,' as one of my girls calls it when +her food disagrees with her." + +It was wonderful, after all, how easily the three new members of the +family fitted into the daily life. Before twenty-four hours had +passed, Mrs. Carew had gotten Mrs. Chilton to asking really interested +questions about the new Home for Working Girls, and Sadie Dean and +Jamie were quarreling over the chance to help with the pea-shelling or +the flower-picking. + +The Carews had been at the Harrington homestead nearly a week when one +evening John Pendleton and Jimmy called. Pollyanna had been hoping +they would come soon. She had, indeed, urged it very strongly before +the Carews came. She made the introductions now with visible pride. + +"You are such good friends of mine, I want you to know each other, and +be good friends together," she explained. + +That Jimmy and Mr. Pendleton should be clearly impressed with the +charm and beauty of Mrs. Carew did not surprise Pollyanna in the +least; but the look that came into Mrs. Carew's face at sight of Jimmy +did surprise her very much. It was almost a look of recognition. + +"Why, Mr. Pendleton, haven't I met you before?" Mrs. Carew cried. + +Jimmy's frank eyes met Mrs. Carew's gaze squarely, admiringly. + +"I think not," he smiled back at her. "I'm sure I never have met you. +I should have remembered it--if _I_ had met YOU," he bowed. + +So unmistakable was his significant emphasis that everybody laughed, +and John Pendleton chuckled: + +"Well done, son--for a youth of your tender years. I couldn't have +done half so well myself." + +Mrs. Carew flushed slightly and joined in the laugh. + +"No, but really," she urged; "joking aside, there certainly is a +strangely familiar something in your face. I think I must have SEEN +you somewhere, if I haven't actually met you." + +"And maybe you have," cried Pollyanna, "in Boston. Jimmy goes to Tech +there winters, you know. Jimmy's going to build bridges and dams, you +see--when he grows up, I mean," she finished with a merry glance at +the big six-foot fellow still standing before Mrs. Carew. + +Everybody laughed again--that is, everybody but Jamie; and only Sadie +Dean noticed that Jamie, instead of laughing, closed his eyes as if at +the sight of something that hurt. And only Sadie Dean knew how--and +why--the subject was so quickly changed, for it was Sadie herself who +changed it. It was Sadie, too, who, when the opportunity came, saw to +it that books and flowers and beasts and birds--things that Jamie knew +and understood--were talked about as well as dams and bridges which +(as Sadie knew), Jamie could never build. That Sadie did all this, +however, was not realized by anybody, least of all by Jamie, the one +who most of all was concerned. + +When the call was over and the Pendletons had gone, Mrs. Carew +referred again to the curiously haunting feeling that somewhere she +had seen young Pendleton before. + +"I have, I know I have--somewhere," she declared musingly. "Of course +it may have been in Boston; but--" She let the sentence remain +unfinished; then, after a minute she added: "He's a fine young fellow, +anyway. I like him." + +"I'm so glad! I do, too," nodded Pollyanna. "I've always liked Jimmy." + +"You've known him some time, then?" queried Jamie, a little wistfully. + +"Oh, yes. I knew him years ago when I was a little girl, you know. He +was Jimmy Bean then." + +"Jimmy BEAN! Why, isn't he Mr. Pendleton's son?" asked Mrs. Carew, in +surprise. + +"No, only by adoption." + +"Adoption!" exclaimed Jamie. "Then HE isn't a real son any more than I +am." There was a curious note of almost joy in the lad's voice. + +"No. Mr. Pendleton hasn't any children. He never married. He--he was +going to, once, but he--he didn't." Pollyanna blushed and spoke with +sudden diffidence. Pollyanna had never forgotten that it was her +mother who, in the long ago, had said no to this same John Pendleton, +and who had thus been responsible for the man's long, lonely years of +bachelorhood. + +Mrs. Carew and Jamie, however, being unaware of this, and seeing now +only the blush on Pollyanna's cheek and the diffidence in her manner, +drew suddenly the same conclusion. + +"Is it possible," they asked themselves, "that this man, John +Pendleton, ever had a love affair with Pollyanna, child that she is?" + +Naturally they did not say this aloud; so, naturally, there was no +answer possible. Naturally, too, perhaps, the thought, though +unspoken, was still not forgotten, but was tucked away in a corner of +their minds for future reference--if need arose. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +SUMMER DAYS + + +Before the Carews came, Pollyanna had told Jimmy that she was +depending on him to help her entertain them. Jimmy had not expressed +himself then as being overwhelmingly desirous to serve her in this +way; but before the Carews had been in town a fortnight, he had shown +himself as not only willing but anxious,--judging by the frequency and +length of his calls, and the lavishness of his offers of the Pendleton +horses and motor cars. + +Between him and Mrs. Carew there sprang up at once a warm friendship +based on what seemed to be a peculiarly strong attraction for each +other. They walked and talked together, and even made sundry plans for +the Home for Working Girls, to be carried out the following winter +when Jimmy should be in Boston. Jamie, too, came in for a good measure +of attention, nor was Sadie Dean forgotten. Sadie, as Mrs. Carew +plainly showed, was to be regarded as if she were quite one of the +family; and Mrs. Carew was careful to see that she had full share in +any plans for merrymaking. + +Nor did Jimmy always come alone with his offers for entertainment. +More and more frequently John Pendleton appeared with him. Rides and +drives and picnics were planned and carried out, and long delightful +afternoons were spent over books and fancy-work on the Harrington +veranda. + +Pollyanna was delighted. Not only were her paying guests being kept +from any possibilities of ennui and homesickness, but her good +friends, the Carews, were becoming delightfully acquainted with her +other good friends, the Pendletons. So, like a mother hen with a brood +of chickens, she hovered over the veranda meetings, and did everything +in her power to keep the group together and happy. + +Neither the Carews nor the Pendletons, however, were at all satisfied +to have Pollyanna merely an onlooker in their pastimes, and very +strenuously they urged her to join them. They would not take no for an +answer, indeed, and Pollyanna very frequently found the way opened for +her. + +"Just as if we were going to have you poked up in this hot kitchen +frosting cake!" Jamie scolded one day, after he had penetrated the +fastnesses of her domain. "It is a perfectly glorious morning, and +we're all going over to the Gorge and take our luncheon. And YOU are +going with us." + +"But, Jamie, I can't--indeed I can't," refused Pollyanna. + +"Why not? You won't have dinner to get for us, for we sha'n't be here +to eat it." + +"But there's the--the luncheon." + +"Wrong again. We'll have the luncheon with us, so you CAN'T stay home +to get that. Now what's to hinder your going along WITH the luncheon, +eh?" + +"Why, Jamie, I--I can't. There's the cake to frost--" + +"Don't want it frosted." + +"And the dusting--" + +"Don't want it dusted." + +"And the ordering to do for to-morrow." + +"Give us crackers and milk. We'd lots rather have you and crackers and +milk than a turkey dinner and not you." + +"But I can't begin to tell you the things I've got to do to-day." + +"Don't want you to begin to tell me," retorted Jamie, cheerfully. "I +want you to stop telling me. Come, put on your bonnet. I saw Betty in +the dining room, and she says she'll put our luncheon up. Now hurry." + +"Why, Jamie, you ridiculous boy, I can't go," laughed Pollyanna, +holding feebly back, as he tugged at her dress-sleeve. "I can't go to +that picnic with you!" + +But she went. She went not only then, but again and again. She could +not help going, indeed, for she found arrayed against her not only +Jamie, but Jimmy and Mr. Pendleton, to say nothing of Mrs. Carew and +Sadie Dean, and even Aunt Polly herself. + +"And of course I AM glad to go," she would sigh happily, when some +dreary bit of work was taken out of her hands in spite of all +protesting. "But, surely, never before were there any boarders like +mine--teasing for crackers-and-milk and cold things; and never before +was there a boarding mistress like me--running around the country +after this fashion!" + +The climax came when one day John Pendleton (and Aunt Polly never +ceased to exclaim because it WAS John Pendleton)--suggested that they +all go on a two weeks' camping trip to a little lake up among the +mountains forty miles from Beldingsville. + +The idea was received with enthusiastic approbation by everybody +except Aunt Polly. Aunt Polly said, privately, to Pollyanna, that it +was all very good and well and desirable that John Pendleton should +have gotten out of the sour, morose aloofness that had been his state +for so many years, but that it did not necessarily follow that it was +equally desirable that he should be trying to turn himself into a +twenty-year-old boy again; and that was what, in her opinion, he +seemed to be doing now! Publicly she contented herself with saying +coldly that SHE certainly should not go on any insane camping trip to +sleep on damp ground and eat bugs and spiders, under the guise of +"fun," nor did she think it a sensible thing for anybody over forty to +do. + +If John Pendleton felt any wound from this shaft, he made no sign. +Certainly there was no diminution of apparent interest and enthusiasm +on his part, and the plans for the camping expedition came on apace, +for it was unanimously decided that, even if Aunt Polly would not go, +that was no reason why the rest should not. + +"And Mrs. Carew will be all the chaperon we need, anyhow," Jimmy had +declared airily. + +For a week, therefore, little was talked of but tents, food supplies, +cameras, and fishing tackle, and little was done that was not a +preparation in some way for the trip. + +"And let's make it the real thing," proposed Jimmy, eagerly, "--yes, +even to Mrs. Chilton's bugs and spiders," he added, with a merry smile +straight into that lady's severely disapproving eyes. "None of your +log-cabin-central-dining-room idea for us! We want real camp-fires +with potatoes baked in the ashes, and we want to sit around and tell +stories and roast corn on a stick." + +"And we want to swim and row and fish," chimed in Pollyanna. "And--" +She stopped suddenly, her eyes on Jamie's face. "That is, of course," +she corrected quickly, "we wouldn't want to--to do those things all +the time. There'd be a lot of QUIET things we'd want to do, too--read +and talk, you know." + +Jamie's eyes darkened. His face grew a little white. His lips parted, +but before any words came, Sadie Dean was speaking. + +"Oh, but on camping trips and picnics, you know, we EXPECT to do +outdoor stunts," she interposed feverishly; "and I'm sure we WANT to. +Last summer we were down in Maine, and you should have seen the fish +Mr. Carew caught. It was--You tell it," she begged, turning to Jamie. + +Jamie laughed and shook his head. + +"They'd never believe it," he objected; "--a fish story like that!" + +"Try us," challenged Pollyanna. + +Jamie still shook his head--but the color had come back to his face, +and his eyes were no longer somber as if with pain. Pollyanna, +glancing at Sadie Dean, vaguely wondered why she suddenly settled back +in her seat with so very evident an air of relief. + +At last the appointed day came, and the start was made in John +Pendleton's big new touring car with Jimmy at the wheel. A whir, a +throbbing rumble, a chorus of good-bys, and they were off, with one +long shriek of the siren under Jimmy's mischievous fingers. + +In after days Pollyanna often went back in her thoughts to that first +night in camp. The experience was so new and so wonderful in so many +ways. + +It was four o'clock when their forty-mile automobile journey came to +an end. Since half-past three their big car had been ponderously +picking its way over an old logging-road not designed for six-cylinder +automobiles. For the car itself, and for the hand at the wheel, this +part of the trip was a most wearing one; but for the merry passengers, +who had no responsibility concerning hidden holes and muddy curves, it +was nothing but a delight growing more poignant with every new vista +through the green arches, and with every echoing laugh that dodged the +low-hanging branches. + +The site for the camp was one known to John Pendleton years before, +and he greeted it now with a satisfied delight that was not unmingled +with relief. + +"Oh, how perfectly lovely!" chorused the others. + +"Glad you like it! I thought it would be about right," nodded John +Pendleton. "Still, I was a little anxious, after all, for these places +do change, you know, most remarkably sometimes. And of course this has +grown up to bushes a little--but not so but what we can easily clear +it." + +Everybody fell to work then, clearing the ground, putting up the two +little tents, unloading the automobile, building the camp fire, and +arranging the "kitchen and pantry." + +It was then that Pollyanna began especially to notice Jamie, and to +fear for him. She realized suddenly that the hummocks and hollows and +pine-littered knolls were not like a carpeted floor for a pair of +crutches, and she saw that Jamie was realizing it, too. She saw, also, +that in spite of his infirmity, he was trying to take his share in the +work; and the sight troubled her. Twice she hurried forward and +intercepted him, taking from his arms the box he was trying to carry. + +"Here, let me take that," she begged. "You've done enough." And the +second time she added: "Do go and sit down somewhere to rest, Jamie. +You look so tired!" + +If she had been watching closely she would have seen the quick color +sweep to his forehead. But she was not watching, so she did not see +it. She did see, however, to her intense surprise, Sadie Dean hurry +forward a moment later, her arms full of boxes, and heard her cry: + +"Oh, Mr. Carew, please, if you WOULD give me a lift with these!" + +The next moment, Jamie, once more struggling with the problem of +managing a bundle of boxes and two crutches, was hastening toward the +tents. + +With a quick word of protest on her tongue, Pollyanna turned to Sadie +Dean. But the protest died unspoken, for Sadie, her finger to her +lips, was hurrying straight toward her. + +"I know you didn't think," she stammered in a low voice, as she +reached Pollyanna's side. "But, don't you see?--it HURTS him--to have +you think he can't do things like other folks. There, look! See how +happy he is now." + +Pollyanna looked, and she saw. She saw Jamie, his whole self alert, +deftly balance his weight on one crutch and swing his burden to the +ground. She saw the happy light on his face, and she heard him say +nonchalantly: + +"Here's another contribution from Miss Dean. She asked me to bring +this over." + +"Why, yes, I see," breathed Pollyanna, turning to Sadie Dean. But +Sadie Dean had gone. + +Pollyanna watched Jamie a good deal after that, though she was careful +not to let him, or any one else, see that she was watching him. And as +she watched, her heart ached. Twice she saw him essay a task and fail: +once with a box too heavy for him to lift; once with a folding-table +too unwieldy for him to carry with his crutches. And each time she saw +his quick glance about him to see if others noticed. She saw, too, +that unmistakably he was getting very tired, and that his face, in +spite of its gay smile, was looking white and drawn, as if he were in +pain. + +"I should think we might have known more," stormed Pollyanna hotly to +herself, her eyes blinded with tears. "I should think we might have +known more than to have let him come to a place like this. Camping, +indeed!--and with a pair of crutches! Why couldn't we have remembered +before we started?" + +An hour later, around the camp fire after supper, Pollyanna had her +answer to this question; for, with the glowing fire before her, and +the soft, fragrant dark all about her, she once more fell under the +spell of the witchery that fell from Jamie's lips; and she once more +forgot--Jamie's crutches. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +COMRADES + + +They were a merry party--the six of them--and a congenial one. There +seemed to be no end to the new delights that came with every new day, +not the least of which was the new charm of companionship that seemed +to be a part of this new life they were living. + +As Jamie said one night, when they were all sitting about the fire: + +"You see, we seem to know each other so much better up here in the +woods--better in a week than we would in a year in town." + +"I know it. I wonder why," murmured Mrs. Carew, her eyes dreamily +following the leaping blaze. + +"I think it's something in the air," sighed Pollyanna, happily. +"There's something about the sky and the woods and the lake +so--so--well, there just is; that's all." + +"I think you mean, because the world is shut out," cried Sadie Dean, +with a curious little break in her voice. (Sadie had not joined in the +laugh that followed Pollyanna's limping conclusion.) "Up here +everything is so real and true that we, too, can be our real true +selves--not what the world SAYS we are because we are rich, or poor, +or great, or humble; but what we really are, OURSELVES." + +"Ho!" scoffed Jimmy, airily. "All that sounds very fine; but the real +common-sense reason is because we don't have any Mrs. Tom and Dick and +Harry sitting on their side porches and commenting on every time we +stir, and wondering among themselves where we are going, why we are +going there, and how long we're intending to stay!" + +"Oh, Jimmy, how you do take the poetry out of things," reproached +Pollyanna, laughingly. + +"But that's my business," flashed Jimmy. "How do you suppose I'm going +to build dams and bridges if I don't see something besides poetry in +the waterfall?" + +"You can't, Pendleton! And it's the bridge--that counts--every time," +declared Jamie in a voice that brought a sudden hush to the group +about the fire. It was for only a moment, however, for almost at once +Sadie Dean broke the silence with a gay: + +"Pooh! I'd rather have the waterfall every time, without ANY bridge +around--to spoil the view!" + +Everybody laughed--and it was as if a tension somewhere snapped. Then +Mrs. Carew rose to her feet. + +"Come, come, children, your stern chaperon says it's bedtime!" And +with a merry chorus of good-nights the party broke up. + +And so the days passed. To Pollyanna they were wonderful days, and +still the most wonderful part was the charm of close companionship--a +companionship that, while differing as to details with each one, was +yet delightful with all. + +With Sadie Dean she talked of the new Home, and of what a marvelous +work Mrs. Carew was doing. They talked, too, of the old days when +Sadie was selling bows behind the counter, and of what Mrs. Carew had +done for her. Pollyanna heard, also, something of the old father and +mother "back home," and of the joy that Sadie, in her new position, +had been able to bring into their lives. + +"And after all it's really YOU that began it, you know," she said one +day to Pollyanna. But Pollyanna only shook her head at this with an +emphatic: + +"Nonsense! It was all Mrs. Carew." + +With Mrs. Carew herself Pollyanna talked also of the Home, and of her +plans for the girls. And once, in the hush of a twilight walk, Mrs. +Carew spoke of herself and of her changed outlook on life. And she, +like Sadie Dean, said brokenly: "After all, it's really you that began +it, Pollyanna." But Pollyanna, as in Sadie Dean's case, would have +none of this; and she began to talk of Jamie, and of what HE had done. + +"Jamie's a dear," Mrs. Carew answered affectionately. "And I love him +like an own son. He couldn't be dearer to me if he were really my +sister's boy." + +"Then you don't think he is?" + +"I don't know. We've never learned anything conclusive. Sometimes I'm +sure he is. Then again I doubt it. I think HE really believes he +is--bless his heart! At all events, one thing is sure: he has good +blood in him from somewhere. Jamie's no ordinary waif of the streets, +you know, with his talents; and the wonderful way he has responded to +teaching and training proves it." + +"Of course," nodded Pollyanna. "And as long as you love him so well, +it doesn't really matter, anyway, does it, whether he's the real Jamie +or not?" + +Mrs. Carew hesitated. Into her eyes crept the old somberness of +heartache. + +"Not so far as he is concerned," she sighed, at last. "It's only that +sometimes I get to thinking: if he isn't our Jamie, where is--Jamie +Kent? Is he well? Is he happy? Has he any one to love him? When I get +to thinking like that, Pollyanna, I'm nearly wild. I'd give--everything +I have in the world, it seems to me, to really KNOW that this boy is +Jamie Kent." + +Pollyanna used to think of this conversation sometimes, in her after +talks with Jamie. Jamie was so sure of himself. + +"It's just somehow that I FEEL it's so," he said once to Pollyanna. "I +believe I am Jamie Kent. I've believed it quite a while. I'm afraid +I've believed it so long now, that--that I just couldn't bear it, to +find out I wasn't he. Mrs. Carew has done so much for me; just think +if, after all, I were only a stranger!" + +"But she--loves you, Jamie." + +"I know she does--and that would only hurt all the more--don't you +see?--because it would be hurting her. SHE wants me to be the real +Jamie. I know she does. Now if I could only DO something for her--make +her proud of me in some way! If I could only do something to support +myself, even, like a man! But what can I do, with--these?" He spoke +bitterly, and laid his hand on the crutches at his side. + +Pollyanna was shocked and distressed. It was the first time she had +heard Jamie speak of his infirmity since the old boyhood days. +Frantically she cast about in her mind for just the right thing to +say; but before she had even thought of anything, Jamie's face had +undergone a complete change. + +"But, there, forget it! I didn't mean to say it," he cried gaily. "And +'twas rank heresy to the game, wasn't it? I'm sure I'm GLAD I've got +the crutches. They're a whole lot nicer than the wheel chair!" + +"And the Jolly Book--do you keep it now?" asked Pollyanna, in a voice +that trembled a little. + +"Sure! I've got a whole library of jolly books now," he retorted. +"They're all in leather, dark red, except the first one. That is the +same little old notebook that Jerry gave me." + +"Jerry! And I've been meaning all the time to ask for him," cried +Pollyanna. "Where is he?" + +"In Boston; and his vocabulary is just as picturesque as ever, only he +has to tone it down at times. Jerry's still in the newspaper +business--but he's GETTING the news, not selling it. Reporting, you +know. I HAVE been able to help him and mumsey. And don't you suppose I +was glad? Mumsey's in a sanatorium for her rheumatism." + +"And is she better?" + +"Very much. She's coming out pretty soon, and going to housekeeping +with Jerry. Jerry's been making up some of his lost schooling during +these past few years. He's let me help him--but only as a loan. He's +been very particular to stipulate that." + +"Of course," nodded Pollyanna, in approval. "He'd want it that way, +I'm sure. I should. It isn't nice to be under obligations that you +can't pay. I know how it is. That's why I so wish I could help Aunt +Polly out--after all she's done for me!" + +"But you are helping her this summer." + +Pollyanna lifted her eyebrows. + +"Yes, I'm keeping summer boarders. I look it, don't I?" she +challenged, with a flourish of her hands toward her surroundings. +"Surely, never was a boarding-house mistress's task quite like mine! +And you should have heard Aunt Polly's dire predictions of what summer +boarders would be," she chuckled irrepressibly. + +"What was that?" + +Pollyanna shook her head decidedly. + +"Couldn't possibly tell you. That's a dead secret. But--" She stopped +and sighed, her face growing wistful again. "This isn't going to last, +you know. It can't. Summer boarders don't. I've got to do something +winters. I've been thinking. I believe--I'll write stories." + +Jamie turned with a start. + +"You'll--what?" he demanded. + +"Write stories--to sell, you know. You needn't look so surprised! Lots +of folks do that. I knew two girls in Germany who did." + +"Did you ever try it?" Jamie still spoke a little queerly. + +"N-no; not yet," admitted Pollyanna. Then, defensively, in answer to +the expression on his face, she bridled: "I TOLD you I was keeping +summer boarders now. I can't do both at once." + +"Of course not!" + +She threw him a reproachful glance. + +"You don't think I can ever do it?" + +"I didn't say so." + +"No; but you look it. I don't see why I can't. It isn't like singing. +You don't have to have a voice for it. And it isn't like an instrument +that you have to learn how to play." + +"I think it is--a little--like that." Jamie's voice was low. His eyes +were turned away. + +"How? What do you mean? Why, Jamie, just a pencil and paper, so--that +isn't like learning to play the piano or violin!" + +There was a moment's silence. Then came the answer, still in that low, +diffident voice; still with the eyes turned away. + +"The instrument that you play on, Pollyanna, will be the great heart +of the world; and to me that seems the most wonderful instrument of +all--to learn. Under your touch, if you are skilful, it will respond +with smiles or tears, as you will." + +[Illustration: "'The instrument that you play on, Pollyanna, will be +the great heart of the world'"] + +Pollyanna drew a tremulous sigh. Her eyes grew wet. + +"Oh, Jamie, how beautifully you do put things--always! I never thought +of it that way. But it's so, isn't it? How I would love to do it! +Maybe I couldn't do--all that. But I've read stories in the magazines, +lots of them. Seems as if I could write some like those, anyway. I +LOVE to tell stories. I'm always repeating those you tell, and I +always laugh and cry, too, just as I do when YOU tell them." + +Jamie turned quickly. + +"DO they make you laugh and cry, Pollyanna--really?" There was a +curious eagerness in his voice. + +"Of course they do, and you know it, Jamie. And they used to long ago, +too, in the Public Garden. Nobody can tell stories like you, Jamie. +YOU ought to be the one writing stories; not I. And, say, Jamie, why +don't you? You could do it lovely, I know!" + +There was no answer. Jamie, apparently, did not hear; perhaps because +he called, at that instant, to a chipmunk that was scurrying through +the bushes near by. + +It was not always with Jamie, nor yet with Mrs. Carew and Sadie Dean +that Pollyanna had delightful walks and talks, however; very often it +was with Jimmy, or John Pendleton. + +Pollyanna was sure now that she had never before known John Pendleton. +The old taciturn moroseness seemed entirely gone since they came to +camp. He rowed and swam and fished and tramped with fully as much +enthusiasm as did Jimmy himself, and with almost as much vigor. Around +the camp fire at night he quite rivaled Jamie with his story-telling +of adventures, both laughable and thrilling, that had befallen him in +his foreign travels. + +"In the 'Desert of Sarah,' Nancy used to call it," laughed Pollyanna +one night, as she joined the rest in begging for a story. + +Better than all this, however, in Pollyanna's opinion, were the times +when John Pendleton, with her alone, talked of her mother as he used +to know her and love her, in the days long gone. That he did so talk +with her was a joy to Pollyanna, but a great surprise, too; for, never +in the past, had John Pendleton talked so freely of the girl whom he +had so loved--hopelessly. Perhaps John Pendleton himself felt some of +the surprise, for once he said to Pollyanna, musingly: + +"I wonder why I'm talking to you like this." + +"Oh, but I love to have you," breathed Pollyanna. + +"Yes, I know--but I wouldn't think I would do it. It must be, though, +that it's because you are so like her, as I knew her. You are very +like your mother, my dear." + +"Why, I thought my mother was BEAUTIFUL!" cried Pollyanna, in +unconcealed amazement. + +John Pendleton smiled quizzically. + +"She was, my dear." + +Pollyanna looked still more amazed. + +"Then I don't see how I CAN be like her!" + +The man laughed outright. + +"Pollyanna, if some girls had said that, I--well, never mind what I'd +say. You little witch!--you poor, homely little Pollyanna!" + +Pollyanna flashed a genuinely distressed reproof straight into the +man's merry eyes. + +"Please, Mr. Pendleton, don't look like that, and don't tease +me--about THAT. I'd so LOVE to be beautiful--though of course it +sounds silly to say it. And I HAVE a mirror, you know." + +"Then I advise you to look in it--when you're talking sometime," +observed the man sententiously. + +Pollyanna's eyes flew wide open. + +"Why, that's just what Jimmy said," she cried. + +"Did he, indeed--the young rascal!" retorted John Pendleton, dryly. +Then, with one of the curiously abrupt changes of manner peculiar to +him, he said, very low: "You have your mother's eyes and smile, +Pollyanna; and to me you are--beautiful." + +And Pollyanna, her eyes blinded with sudden hot tears, was silenced. + +Dear as were these talks, however, they still were not quite like the +talks with Jimmy, to Pollyanna. For that matter, she and Jimmy did not +need to TALK to be happy. Jimmy was always so comfortable, and +comforting; whether they talked or not did not matter. Jimmy always +understood. There was no pulling on her heart-strings for sympathy, +with Jimmy--Jimmy was delightfully big, and strong, and happy. Jimmy +was not sorrowing for a long-lost nephew, nor pining for the loss of a +boyhood sweetheart. Jimmy did not have to swing himself painfully +about on a pair of crutches--all of which was so hard to see, and +know, and think of. With Jimmy one could be just glad, and happy, and +free. Jimmy was such a dear! He always rested one so--did Jimmy! + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +"TIED TO TWO STICKS" + + +It was on the last day at camp that it happened. To Pollyanna it +seemed such a pity that it should have happened at all, for it was the +first cloud to bring a shadow of regret and unhappiness to her heart +during the whole trip, and she found herself futilely sighing: + +"I wish we'd gone home day before yesterday; then it wouldn't have +happened." + +But they had not gone home "day before yesterday," and it had +happened; and this was the manner of it. + +Early in the morning of that last day they had all started on a +two-mile tramp to "the Basin." + +"We'll have one more bang-up fish dinner before we go," Jimmy had +said. And the rest had joyfully agreed. + +With luncheon and fishing tackle, therefore, they had made an early +start. Laughing and calling gaily to each other they followed the +narrow path through the woods, led by Jimmy, who best knew the way. + +At first, close behind Jimmy had walked Pollyanna; but gradually she +had fallen back with Jamie, who was last in the line: Pollyanna had +thought she detected on Jamie's face the expression which she had come +to know was there only when he was attempting something that taxed +almost to the breaking-point his skill and powers of endurance. She +knew that nothing would so offend him as to have her openly notice +this state of affairs. At the same time, she also knew that from her, +more willingly than from any one else, would he accept an occasional +steadying hand over a troublesome log or stone. Therefore, at the +first opportunity to make the change without apparent design, she had +dropped back step by step until she had reached her goal, Jamie. She +had been rewarded instantly in the way Jamie's face brightened, and in +the easy assurance with which he met and conquered a fallen tree-trunk +across their path, under the pleasant fiction (carefully fostered by +Pollyanna) of "helping her across." + +Once out of the woods, their way led along an old stone wall for a +time, with wide reaches of sunny, sloping pastures on each side, and a +more distant picturesque farmhouse. It was in the adjoining pasture +that Pollyanna saw the goldenrod which she immediately coveted. + +"Jamie, wait! I'm going to get it," she exclaimed eagerly. "It'll make +such a beautiful bouquet for our picnic table!" And nimbly she +scrambled over the high stone wall and dropped herself down on the +other side. + +It was strange how tantalizing was that goldenrod. Always just ahead +she saw another bunch, and yet another, each a little finer than the +one within her reach. With joyous exclamations and gay little calls +back to the waiting Jamie, Pollyanna--looking particularly attractive +in her scarlet sweater--skipped from bunch to bunch, adding to her +store. She had both hands full when there came the hideous bellow of +an angry bull, the agonized shout from Jamie, and the sound of hoofs +thundering down the hillside. + +What happened next was never clear to her. She knew she dropped her +goldenrod and ran--ran as she never ran before, ran as she thought she +never could run--back toward the wall and Jamie. She knew that behind +her the hoof-beats were gaining, gaining, always gaining. Dimly, +hopelessly, far ahead of her, she saw Jamie's agonized face, and heard his +hoarse cries. Then, from somewhere, came a new voice--Jimmy's--shouting +a cheery call of courage. + +Still on and on she ran blindly, hearing nearer and nearer the thud of +those pounding hoofs. Once she stumbled and almost fell. Then, dizzily +she righted herself and plunged forward. She felt her strength quite +gone when suddenly, close to her, she heard Jimmy's cheery call again. +The next minute she felt herself snatched off her feet and held close +to a great throbbing something that dimly she realized was Jimmy's +heart. It was all a horrid blur then of cries, hot, panting breaths, +and pounding hoofs thundering nearer, ever nearer. Then, just as she +knew those hoofs to be almost upon her, she felt herself flung, still +in Jimmy's arms, sharply to one side, and yet not so far but that she +still could feel the hot breath of the maddened animal as he dashed +by. Almost at once then she found herself on the other side of the +wall, with Jimmy bending over her, imploring her to tell him she was +not dead. + +With an hysterical laugh that was yet half a sob, she struggled out of +his arms and stood upon her feet. + +"Dead? No, indeed--thanks to you, Jimmy. I'm all right. I'm all right. +Oh, how glad, glad, glad I was to hear your voice! Oh, that was +splendid! How did you do it?" she panted. + +"Pooh! That was nothing. I just--" An inarticulate choking cry brought +his words to a sudden halt. He turned to find Jamie face down on the +ground, a little distance away. Pollyanna was already hurrying toward +him. + +"Jamie, Jamie, what is the matter?" she cried. "Did you fall? Are you +hurt?" + +There was no answer. + +"What is it, old fellow? ARE you hurt?" demanded Jimmy. + +Still there was no answer. Then, suddenly, Jamie pulled himself half +upright and turned. They saw his face then, and fell back, shocked and +amazed. + +"Hurt? Am I hurt?" he choked huskily, flinging out both his hands. +"Don't you suppose it hurts to see a thing like that and not be able +to do anything? To be tied, helpless, to a pair of sticks? I tell you +there's no hurt in all the world to equal it!" + +"But--but--Jamie," faltered Pollyanna. + +"Don't!" interrupted the cripple, almost harshly. He had struggled to +his feet now. "Don't say--anything. I didn't mean to make a +scene--like this," he finished brokenly, as he turned and swung back +along the narrow path that led to the camp. + +For a minute, as if transfixed, the two behind him watched him go. + +"Well, by--Jove!" breathed Jimmy, then, in a voice that shook a +little, "That was--tough on him!" + +"And I didn't think, and PRAISED you, right before him," half-sobbed +Pollyanna. "And his hands--did you see them? They were--BLEEDING where +the nails had cut right into the flesh," she finished, as she turned +and stumbled blindly up the path. + +"But, Pollyanna, w-where are you going?" cried Jimmy. + +"I'm going to Jamie, of course! Do you think I'd leave him like that? +Come, we must get him to come back." + +And Jimmy, with a sigh that was not all for Jamie, went. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +JIMMY WAKES UP + + +Outwardly the camping trip was pronounced a great success; but +inwardly-- + +Pollyanna wondered sometimes if it were all herself, or if there +really were a peculiar, indefinable constraint in everybody with +everybody else. Certainly she felt it, and she thought she saw +evidences that the others felt it, too. As for the cause of it +all--unhesitatingly she attributed it to that last day at camp with +its unfortunate trip to the Basin. + +To be sure, she and Jimmy had easily caught up with Jamie, and had, +after considerable coaxing, persuaded him to turn about and go on to +the Basin with them. But, in spite of everybody's very evident efforts +to act as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, nobody really +succeeded in doing so. Pollyanna, Jamie, and Jimmy overdid their +gayety a bit, perhaps; and the others, while not knowing exactly what +had happened, very evidently felt that something was not quite right, +though they plainly tried to hide the fact that they did feel so. +Naturally, in this state of affairs, restful happiness was out of the +question. Even the anticipated fish dinner was flavorless; and early +in the afternoon the start was made back to the camp. + +Once home again, Pollyanna had hoped that the unhappy episode of the +angry bull would be forgotten. But she could not forget it, so in all +fairness she could not blame the others if they could not. Always she +thought of it now when she looked at Jamie. She saw again the agony on +his face, the crimson stain on the palms of his hands. Her heart ached +for him, and because it did so ache, his mere presence had come to be +a pain to her. Remorsefully she confessed to herself that she did not +like to be with Jamie now, nor to talk with him--but that did not mean +that she was not often with him. She was with him, indeed, much +oftener than before, for so remorseful was she, and so fearful was she +that he would detect her unhappy frame of mind, that she lost no +opportunity of responding to his overtures of comradeship; and +sometimes she deliberately sought him out. This last she did not often +have to do, however, for more and more frequently these days Jamie +seemed to be turning to her for companionship. + +The reason for this, Pollyanna believed, was to be found in this same +incident of the bull and the rescue. Not that Jamie ever referred to +it directly. He never did that. He was, too, even gayer than usual; +but Pollyanna thought she detected sometimes a bitterness underneath +it all that was never there before. Certainly she could not help +seeing that at times he seemed almost to want to avoid the others, and +that he actually sighed, as if with relief, when he found himself +alone with her. She thought she knew why this was so, after he said to +her, as he did say one day, while they were watching the others play +tennis: + +"You see, after all, Pollyanna, there isn't any one who can quite +understand as you can." + +"'Understand'?" Pollyanna had not known what he meant at first. They +had been watching the players for five minutes without a word between +them. + +"Yes; for you, once--couldn't walk--yourself." + +"Oh-h, yes, I know," faltered Pollyanna; and she knew that her great +distress must have shown in her face, for so quickly and so blithely +did he change the subject, after a laughing: + +"Come, come, Pollyanna, why don't you tell me to play the game? I +would if I were in your place. Forget it, please. I was a brute to +make you look like that!" + +And Pollyanna smiled, and said: "No, no--no, indeed!" But she did not +"forget it." She could not. And it all made her only the more anxious +to be with Jamie and help him all she could. + +"As if NOW I'd ever let him see that I was ever anything but glad when +he was with me!" she thought fervently, as she hurried forward a +minute later to take her turn in the game. + +Pollyanna, however, was not the only one in the party who felt a new +awkwardness and constraint. Jimmy Pendleton felt it, though he, too, +tried not to show it. + +Jimmy was not happy these days. From a care-free youth whose visions +were of wonderful spans across hitherto unbridgeable chasms, he has +come to be an anxious-eyed young man whose visions were of a feared +rival bearing away the girl he loved. + +Jimmy knew very well now that he was in love with Pollyanna. He +suspected that he had been in love with her for some time. He stood +aghast, indeed, to find himself so shaken and powerless before this +thing that had come to him. He knew that even his beloved bridges were +as nothing when weighed against the smile in a girl's eyes and the +word on a girl's lips. He realized that the most wonderful span in the +world to him would be the thing that could help him to cross the chasm +of fear and doubt that he felt lay between him and Pollyanna--doubt +because of Pollyanna; fear because of Jamie. + +Not until he had seen Pollyanna in jeopardy that day in the pasture +had he realized how empty would be the world--his world--without her. +Not until his wild dash for safety with Pollyanna in his arms had he +realized how precious she was to him. For a moment, indeed, with his +arms about her, and hers clinging about his neck, he had felt that she +was indeed his; and even in that supreme moment of danger he knew the +thrill of supreme bliss. Then, a little later, he had seen Jamie's +face, and Jamie's hands. To him they could mean but one thing: Jamie, +too, loved Pollyanna, and Jamie had to stand by, helpless--"tied to +two sticks." That was what he had said. Jimmy believed that, had he +himself been obliged to stand by helpless, "tied to two sticks," while +another rescued the girl that he loved, he would have looked like +that. + +Jimmy had gone back to camp that day with his thoughts in a turmoil of +fear and rebellion. He wondered if Pollyanna cared for Jamie; that was +where the fear came in. But even if she did care, a little, must he +stand aside, weakly, and let Jamie, without a struggle, make her learn +to care more? That was where the rebellion came in. Indeed, no, he +would not do it, decided Jimmy. It should be a fair fight between +them. + +Then, all by himself as he was, Jimmy flushed hot to the roots of his +hair. Would it be a "fair" fight? Could any fight between him and +Jamie be a "fair" fight? Jimmy felt suddenly as he had felt years +before when, as a lad, he had challenged a new boy to a fight for an +apple they both claimed, then, at the first blow, had discovered that +the new boy had a crippled arm. He had purposely lost then, of course, +and had let the crippled boy win. But he told himself fiercely now +that this case was different. It was no apple that was at stake. It +was his life's happiness. It might even be Pollyanna's life's +happiness, too. Perhaps she did not care for Jamie at all, but would +care for her old friend, Jimmy, if he but once showed her he wanted +her to care. And he would show her. He would-- + +Once again Jimmy blushed hotly. But he frowned, too, angrily: if only +he COULD forget how Jamie had looked when he had uttered that moaning +"tied to two sticks!" If only--But what was the use? It was NOT a fair +fight, and he knew it. He knew, too, right there and then, that his +decision would be just what it afterwards proved to be: he would watch +and wait. He would give Jamie his chance; and if Pollyanna showed that +she cared, he would take himself off and away quite out of their +lives; and they should never know, either of them, how bitterly he was +suffering. He would go back to his bridges--as if any bridge, though +it led to the moon itself, could compare for a moment with Pollyanna! +But he would do it. He must do it. + +It was all very fine and heroic, and Jimmy felt so exalted he was +atingle with something that was almost happiness when he finally +dropped off to sleep that night. But martyrdom in theory and practice +differs woefully, as would-be martyrs have found out from time +immemorial. It was all very well to decide alone and in the dark that +he would give Jamie his chance; but it was quite another matter really +to do it when it involved nothing less than the leaving of Pollyanna +and Jamie together almost every time he saw them. Then, too, he was +very much worried at Pollyanna's apparent attitude toward the lame +youth. It looked very much to Jimmy as if she did indeed care for him, +so watchful was she of his comfort, so apparently eager to be with +him. Then, as if to settle any possible doubt in Jimmy's mind, there +came the day when Sadie Dean had something to say on the subject. + +They were all out in the tennis court. Sadie was sitting alone when +Jimmy strolled up to her. + +"You next with Pollyanna, isn't it?" he queried. + +She shook her head. + +"Pollyanna isn't playing any more this morning." + +"Isn't playing!" frowned Jimmy, who had been counting on his own game +with Pollyanna. "Why not?" + +For a brief minute Sadie Dean did not answer; then with very evident +difficulty she said: + +"Pollyanna told me last night that she thought we were playing tennis +too much; that it wasn't kind to--Mr. Carew, as long as he can't +play." + +"I know; but--" Jimmy stopped helplessly, the frown plowing a deeper +furrow into his forehead. The next instant he fairly started with +surprise at the tense something in Sadie Dean's voice, as she said: + +"But he doesn't want her to stop. He doesn't want any one of us to +make any difference--for him. It's that that hurts him so. She doesn't +understand. She doesn't understand! But I do. She thinks she does, +though!" + +Something in words or manner sent a sudden pang to Jimmy's heart. He +threw a sharp look into her face. A question flew to his lips. For a +moment he held it back; then, trying to hide his earnestness with a +bantering smile, he let it come. + +"Why, Miss Dean, you don't mean to convey the idea that--that there's +any SPECIAL interest in each other--between those two, do you?" + +She gave him a scornful glance. + +"Where have your eyes been? She worships him! I mean--they worship +each other," she corrected hastily. + +Jimmy, with an inarticulate ejaculation, turned and walked away +abruptly. He could not trust himself to remain longer. He did not wish +to talk any more, just then, to Sadie Dean. So abruptly, indeed, did +he turn, that he did not notice that Sadie Dean, too, turned +hurriedly, and busied herself looking in the grass at her feet, as if +she had lost something. Very evidently, Sadie Dean, also, did not wish +to talk any more just then. + +Jimmy Pendleton told himself that it was not true at all; that it was +all falderal, what Sadie Dean had said. Yet nevertheless, true or not +true, he could not forget it. It colored all his thoughts thereafter, +and loomed before his eyes like a shadow whenever he saw Pollyanna and +Jamie together. He watched their faces covertly. He listened to the +tones of their voices. He came then, in time, to think it was, after +all, true: that they did worship each other; and his heart, in +consequence, grew like lead within him. True to his promise to +himself, however, he turned resolutely away. The die was cast, he told +himself. Pollyanna was not to be for him. + +Restless days for Jimmy followed. To stay away from the Harrington +homestead entirely he did not dare, lest his secret be suspected. To +be with Pollyanna at all now was torture. Even to be with Sadie Dean +was unpleasant, for he could not forget that it was Sadie Dean who had +finally opened his eyes. Jamie, certainly, was no haven of refuge, +under the circumstances; and that left only Mrs. Carew. Mrs. Carew, +however, was a host in herself, and Jimmy found his only comfort these +days in her society. Gay or grave, she always seemed to know how to +fit his mood exactly; and it was wonderful how much she knew about +bridges--the kind of bridges he was going to build. She was so wise, +too, and so sympathetic, knowing always just the right word to say. He +even one day almost told her about The Packet; but John Pendleton +interrupted them at just the wrong moment, so the story was not told. +John Pendleton was always interrupting them at just the wrong moment, +Jimmy thought vexedly, sometimes. Then, when he remembered what John +Pendleton had done for him, he was ashamed. + +"The Packet" was a thing that dated back to Jimmy's boyhood, and had +never been mentioned to any one save to John Pendleton, and that only +once, at the time of his adoption. The Packet was nothing but rather a +large white envelope, worn with time, and plump with mystery behind a +huge red seal. It had been given him by his father, and it bore the +following instructions in his father's hand: + +"To my boy, Jimmy. Not to be opened until his thirtieth birthday +except in case of his death, when it shall be opened at once." + +There were times when Jimmy speculated a good deal as to the contents +of that envelope. There were other times when he forgot its existence. +In the old days, at the Orphans' Home, his chief terror had been that +it should be discovered and taken away from him. In those days he wore +it always hidden in the lining of his coat. Of late years, at John +Pendleton's suggestion, it had been tucked away in the Pendleton safe. + +"For there's no knowing how valuable it may be," John Pendleton had +said, with a smile. "And, anyway, your father evidently wanted you to +have it, and we wouldn't want to run the risk of losing it." + +"No, I wouldn't want to lose it, of course," Jimmy had smiled back, a +little soberly. "But I'm not counting on its being real valuable, sir. +Poor dad didn't have anything that was very valuable about him, as I +remember." + +It was this Packet that Jimmy came so near mentioning to Mrs. Carew +one day,--if only John Pendleton had not interrupted them. + +"Still, maybe it's just as well I didn't tell her about it," Jimmy +reflected afterwards, on his way home. "She might have thought dad had +something in his life that wasn't quite--right. And I wouldn't have +wanted her to think that--of dad." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE GAME AND POLLYANNA + + +Before the middle of September the Carews and Sadie Dean said good-by +and went back to Boston. Much as she knew she would miss them, +Pollyanna drew an actual sigh of relief as the train bearing them away +rolled out of the Beldingsville station. Pollyanna would not have +admitted having this feeling of relief to any one else, and even to +herself she apologized in her thoughts. + +"It isn't that I don't love them dearly, every one of them," she +sighed, watching the train disappear around the curve far down the +track. "It's only that--that I'm so sorry for poor Jamie all the time; +and--and--I am tired. I shall be glad, for a while, just to go back to +the old quiet days with Jimmy." + +Pollyanna, however, did not go back to the old quiet days with Jimmy. +The days that immediately followed the going of the Carews were quiet, +certainly, but they were not passed "with Jimmy." Jimmy rarely came +near the house now, and when he did call, he was not the old Jimmy +that she used to know. He was moody, restless, and silent, or else +very gay and talkative in a nervous fashion that was most puzzling and +annoying. Before long, too, he himself went to Boston; and then of +course she did not see him at all. + +Pollyanna was surprised then to see how much she missed him. Even to +know that he was in town, and that there was a chance that he might +come over, was better than the dreary emptiness of certain absence; +and even his puzzling moods of alternating gloominess and gayety were +preferable to this utter silence of nothingness. Then, one day, +suddenly she pulled herself up with hot cheeks and shamed eyes. + +"Well, Pollyanna Whittier," she upbraided herself sharply, "one would +think you were in LOVE with Jimmy Bean Pendleton! Can't you think of +ANYTHING but him?" + +Whereupon, forthwith, she bestirred herself to be very gay and lively +indeed, and to put this Jimmy Bean Pendleton out of her thoughts. As +it happened, Aunt Polly, though unwittingly, helped her to this. + +With the going of the Carews had gone also their chief source of +immediate income, and Aunt Polly was beginning to worry again, +audibly, about the state of their finances. + +"I don't know, really, Pollyanna, what IS going to become of us," she +would moan frequently. "Of course we are a little ahead now from this +summer's work, and we have a small sum from the estate right along; +but I never know how soon that's going to stop, like all the rest. If +only we could do something to bring in some ready cash!" + +It was after one of these moaning lamentations one day that +Pollyanna's eyes chanced to fall on a prize-story contest offer. It +was a most alluring one. The prizes were large and numerous. The +conditions were set forth in glowing terms. To read it, one would +think that to win out were the easiest thing in the world. It +contained even a special appeal that might have been framed for +Pollyanna herself. + +"This is for you--you who read this," it ran. "What if you never have +written a story before! That is no sign you cannot write one. Try it. +That's all. Wouldn't YOU like three thousand dollars? Two thousand? +One thousand? Five hundred, or even one hundred? Then why not go after +it?" + +"The very thing!" cried Pollyanna, clapping her hands. "I'm so glad I +saw it! And it says I can do it, too. I thought I could, if I'd just +try. I'll go tell auntie, so she needn't worry any more." + +Pollyanna was on her feet and half way to the door when a second +thought brought her steps to a pause. + +"Come to think of it, I reckon I won't, after all. It'll be all the +nicer to surprise her; and if I SHOULD get the first one--!" + +Pollyanna went to sleep that night planning what she COULD do with +that three thousand dollars. + +Pollyanna began her story the next day. That is, she, with a very +important air, got out a quantity of paper, sharpened up half-a-dozen +pencils, and established herself at the big old-fashioned Harrington +desk in the living-room. After biting restlessly at the ends of two of +her pencils, she wrote down three words on the fair white page before +her. Then she drew a long sigh, threw aside the second ruined pencil, +and picked up a slender green one with a beautiful point. This point +she eyed with a meditative frown. + +"O dear! I wonder WHERE they get their titles," she despaired. "Maybe, +though, I ought to decide on the story first, and then make a title to +fit. Anyhow, I'M going to do it." And forthwith she drew a black line +through the three words and poised the pencil for a fresh start. + +The start was not made at once, however. Even when it was made, it +must have been a false one, for at the end of half an hour the whole +page was nothing but a jumble of scratched-out lines, with only a few +words here and there left to tell the tale. + +At this juncture Aunt Polly came into the room. She turned tired eyes +upon her niece. + +"Well, Pollyanna, what ARE you up to now?" she demanded. + +Pollyanna laughed and colored guiltily. + +"Nothing much, auntie. Anyhow, it doesn't look as if it were +much--yet," she admitted, with a rueful smile. "Besides, it's a +secret, and I'm not going to tell it yet." + +"Very well; suit yourself," sighed Aunt Polly. "But I can tell you +right now that if you're trying to make anything different out of +those mortgage papers Mr. Hart left, it's useless. I've been all over +them myself twice." + +"No, dear, it isn't the papers. It's a whole heap nicer than any +papers ever could be," crowed Pollyanna triumphantly, turning back to +her work. In Pollyanna's eyes suddenly had risen a glowing vision of +what it might be, with that three thousand dollars once hers. + +For still another half-hour Pollyanna wrote and scratched, and chewed +her pencils; then, with her courage dulled, but not destroyed, she +gathered up her papers and pencils and left the room. + +"I reckon maybe I'll do better by myself up-stairs," she was thinking +as she hurried through the hall. "I THOUGHT I ought to do it at a +desk--being literary work, so--but anyhow, the desk didn't help me any +this morning. I'll try the window seat in my room." + +The window seat, however, proved to be no more inspiring, judging by +the scratched and re-scratched pages that fell from Pollyanna's hands; +and at the end of another half-hour Pollyanna discovered suddenly that +it was time to get dinner. + +"Well, I'm glad 'tis, anyhow," she sighed to herself. "I'd a lot +rather get dinner than do this. Not but that I WANT to do this, of +course; only I'd no idea 'twas such an awful job--just a story, so!" + +During the following month Pollyanna worked faithfully, doggedly, but +she soon found that "just a story, so" was indeed no small matter to +accomplish. Pollyanna, however, was not one to set her hand to the +plow and look back. Besides, there was that three-thousand-dollar +prize, or even any of the others, if she should not happen to win the +first one! Of course even one hundred dollars was something! So day +after day she wrote and erased, and rewrote, until finally the story, +such as it was, lay completed before her. Then, with some misgivings, +it must be confessed, she took the manuscript to Milly Snow to be +typewritten. + +"It reads all right--that is, it makes sense," mused Pollyanna +doubtfully, as she hurried along toward the Snow cottage; "and it's a +real nice story about a perfectly lovely girl. But there's something +somewhere that isn't quite right about it, I'm afraid. Anyhow, I don't +believe I'd better count too much on the first prize; then I won't be +too much disappointed when I get one of the littler ones." + +Pollyanna always thought of Jimmy when she went to the Snows', for it +was at the side of the road near their cottage that she had first seen +him as a forlorn little runaway lad from the Orphans' Home years +before. She thought of him again to-day, with a little catch of her +breath. Then, with the proud lifting of her head that always came now +with the second thought of Jimmy, she hurried up the Snows' doorsteps +and rang the bell. + +As was usually the case, the Snows had nothing but the warmest of +welcomes for Pollyanna; and also as usual it was not long before they +were talking of the game: in no home in Beldingsville was the glad +game more ardently played than in the Snows'. + +"Well, and how are you getting along?" asked Pollyanna, when she had +finished the business part of her call. + +"Splendidly!" beamed Milly Snow. "This is the third job I've got this +week. Oh, Miss Pollyanna, I'm so glad you had me take up typewriting, +for you see I CAN do that right at home! And it's all owing to you." + +"Nonsense!" disclaimed Pollyanna, merrily. + +"But it is. In the first place, I couldn't have done it anyway if it +hadn't been for the game--making mother so much better, you know, that +I had some time to myself. And then, at the very first, you suggested +typewriting, and helped me to buy a machine. I should like to know if +that doesn't come pretty near owing it all to you!" + +But once again Pollyanna objected. This time she was interrupted by +Mrs. Snow from her wheel chair by the window. And so earnestly and +gravely did Mrs. Snow speak, that Pollyanna, in spite of herself, +could but hear what she had to say. + +"Listen, child, I don't think you know quite what you've done. But I +wish you could! There's a little look in your eyes, my dear, to-day, +that I don't like to see there. You are plagued and worried over +something, I know. I can see it. And I don't wonder: your uncle's +death, your aunt's condition, everything--I won't say more about that. +But there's something I do want to say, my dear, and you must let me +say it, for I can't bear to see that shadow in your eyes without +trying to drive it away by telling you what you've done for me, for +this whole town, and for countless other people everywhere." + +"MRS. SNOW!" protested Pollyanna, in genuine distress. + +"Oh, I mean it, and I know what I'm talking about," nodded the +invalid, triumphantly. "To begin with, look at me. Didn't you find me +a fretful, whining creature who never by any chance wanted what she +had until she found what she didn't have? And didn't you open my eyes +by bringing me three kinds of things so I'd HAVE to have what I +wanted, for once?" + +"Oh, Mrs. Snow, was I really ever quite so--impertinent as that?" +murmured Pollyanna, with a painful blush. + +"It wasn't impertinent," objected Mrs. Snow, stoutly. "You didn't MEAN +it as impertinence--and that made all the difference in the world. You +didn't preach, either, my dear. If you had, you'd never have got me to +playing the game, nor anybody else, I fancy. But you did get me to +playing it--and see what it's done for me, and for Milly! Here I am so +much better that I can sit in a wheel chair and go anywhere on this +floor in it. That means a whole lot when it comes to waiting on +yourself, and giving those around you a chance to breathe--meaning +Milly, in this case. And the doctor says it's all owing to the game. +Then there's others, quantities of others, right in this town, that +I'm hearing of all the time. Nellie Mahoney broke her wrist and was so +glad it wasn't her leg that she didn't mind the wrist at all. Old Mrs. +Tibbits has lost her hearing, but she's so glad 'tisn't her eyesight +that she's actually happy. Do you remember cross-eyed Joe that they +used to call Cross Joe, be cause of his temper? Nothing went to suit +him either, any more than it did me. Well, somebody's taught him the +game, they say, and made a different man of him. And listen, dear. +It's not only this town, but other places. I had a letter yesterday +from my cousin in Massachusetts, and she told me all about Mrs. Tom +Payson that used to live here. Do you remember them? They lived on the +way up Pendleton Hill." + +"Yes, oh, yes, I remember them," cried Pollyanna. + +"Well, they left here that winter you were in the Sanatorium and went +to Massachusetts where my sister lives. She knows them well. She says +Mrs. Payson told her all about you, and how your glad game actually +saved them from a divorce. And now not only do they play it +themselves, but they've got quite a lot of others playing it down +there, and THEY'RE getting still others. So you see, dear, there's no +telling where that glad game of yours is going to stop. I wanted you +to know. I thought it might help--even you to play the game sometimes; +for don't think I don't understand, dearie, that it IS hard for you to +play your own game--sometimes." + +Pollyanna rose to her feet. She smiled, but her eyes glistened with +tears, as she held out her hand in good-by. + +"Thank you, Mrs. Snow," she said unsteadily. "It IS hard--sometimes; +and maybe I DID need a little help about my own game. But, anyhow, +now--" her eyes flashed with their old merriment--"if any time I think +I can't play the game myself I can remember that I can still always be +GLAD there are some folks playing it!" + +Pollyanna walked home a little soberly that afternoon. Touched as she +was by what Mrs. Snow had said, there was yet an undercurrent of +sadness in it all. She was thinking of Aunt Polly--Aunt Polly who +played the game now so seldom; and she was wondering if she herself +always played it, when she might. + +"Maybe I haven't been careful, always, to hunt up the glad side of the +things Aunt Polly says," she thought with undefined guiltiness; "and +maybe if I played the game better myself, Aunt Polly would play it--a +little. Anyhow I'm going to try. If I don't look out, all these other +people will be playing my own game better than I am myself!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +JOHN PENDLETON + + +It was just a week before Christmas that Pollyanna sent her story (now +neatly typewritten) in for the contest. The prize-winners would not be +announced until April, the magazine notice said, so Pollyanna settled +herself for the long wait with characteristic, philosophical patience. + +"I don't know, anyhow, but I'm glad 'tis so long," she told herself, +"for all winter I can have the fun of thinking it may be the first one +instead of one of the others, that I'll get. I might just as well +think I'm going to get it, then if I do get it, I won't have been +unhappy any. While if I don't get it--I won't have had all these weeks +of unhappiness beforehand, anyway; and I can be glad for one of the +smaller ones, then." That she might not get any prize was not in +Pollyanna's calculations at all. The story, so beautifully typed by +Milly Snow, looked almost as good as printed already--to Pollyanna. + +Christmas was not a happy time at the Harrington homestead that year, +in spite of Pollyanna's strenuous efforts to make it so. Aunt Polly +refused absolutely to allow any sort of celebration of the day, and +made her attitude so unmistakably plain that Pollyanna could not give +even the simplest of presents. + +Christmas evening John Pendleton called. Mrs. Chilton excused herself, +but Pollyanna, utterly worn out from a long day with her aunt, +welcomed him joyously. But even here she found a fly in the amber of +her content; for John Pendleton had brought with him a letter from +Jimmy, and the letter was full of nothing but the plans he and Mrs. +Carew were making for a wonderful Christmas celebration at the Home +for Working Girls: and Pollyanna, ashamed though she was to own it to +herself, was not in a mood to hear about Christmas celebrations just +then--least of all, Jimmy's. + +John Pendleton, however, was not ready to let the subject drop, even +when the letter had been read. + +"Great doings--those!" he exclaimed, as he folded the letter. + +"Yes, indeed; fine!" murmured Pollyanna, trying to speak with due +enthusiasm. + +"And it's to-night, too, isn't it? I'd like to drop in on them about +now." + +"Yes," murmured Pollyanna again, with still more careful enthusiasm. + +"Mrs. Carew knew what she was about when she got Jimmy to help her, I +fancy," chuckled the man. "But I'm wondering how Jimmy likes +it--playing Santa Claus to half a hundred young women at once!" + +"Why, he finds it delightful, of course!" Pollyanna lifted her chin +ever so slightly. + +"Maybe. Still, it's a little different from learning to build bridges, +you must confess." + +"Oh, yes." + +"But I'll risk Jimmy, and I'll risk wagering that those girls never +had a better time than he'll give them to-night, too." + +"Y-yes, of course," stammered Pollyanna, trying to keep the hated +tremulousness out of her voice, and trying very hard NOT to compare +her own dreary evening in Beldingsville with nobody but John Pendleton +to that of those fifty girls in Boston--with Jimmy. + +There was a brief pause, during which John Pendleton gazed dreamily at +the dancing fire on the hearth. + +"She's a wonderful woman--Mrs. Carew is," he said at last. + +"She is, indeed!" This time the enthusiasm in Pollyanna's voice was +all pure gold. + +"Jimmy's written me before something of what she's done for those +girls," went on the man, still gazing into the fire. "In just the last +letter before this he wrote a lot about it, and about her. He said he +always admired her, but never so much as now, when he can see what she +really is." + +"She's a dear--that's what Mrs. Carew is," declared Pollyanna, warmly. +"She's a dear in every way, and I love her." + +John Pendleton stirred suddenly. He turned to Pollyanna with an oddly +whimsical look in his eyes. + +"I know you do, my dear. For that matter, there may be others, +too--that love her." + +Pollyanna's heart skipped a beat. A sudden thought came to her with +stunning, blinding force. JIMMY! Could John Pendleton be meaning that +Jimmy cared THAT WAY--for Mrs. Carew? + +"You mean--?" she faltered. She could not finish. + +With a nervous twitch peculiar to him, John Pendleton got to his feet. + +"I mean--the girls, of course," he answered lightly, still with that +whimsical smile. "Don't you suppose those fifty girls--love her 'most +to death?" + +Pollyanna said "yes, of course," and murmured something else +appropriate, in answer to John Pendleton's next remark. But her +thoughts were in a tumult, and she let the man do most of the talking +for the rest of the evening. + +Nor did John Pendleton seem averse to this. Restlessly he took a turn +or two about the room, then sat down in his old place. And when he +spoke, it was on his old subject, Mrs. Carew. + +"Queer--about that Jamie of hers, isn't it? I wonder if he IS her +nephew." + +As Pollyanna did not answer, the man went on, after a moment's +silence. + +"He's a fine fellow, anyway. I like him. There's something fine and +genuine about him. She's bound up in him. That's plain to be seen, +whether he's really her kin or not." + +There was--another pause, then, in a slightly altered voice, John +Pendleton said: + +"Still it's queer, too, when you come to think of it, that she +never--married again. She is certainly now--a very beautiful woman. +Don't you think so?" + +"Yes--yes, indeed she is," plunged in Pollyanna, with precipitate +haste; "a--a very beautiful woman." + +There was a little break at the last in Pollyanna's voice. Pollyanna, +just then, had caught sight of her own face in the mirror +opposite--and Pollyanna to herself was never "a very beautiful woman." + +On and on rambled John Pendleton, musingly, contentedly, his eyes on +the fire. Whether he was answered or not seemed not to disturb him. +Whether he was even listened to or not, he seemed hardly to know. He +wanted, apparently, only to talk; but at last he got to his feet +reluctantly and said good-night. + +For a weary half-hour Pollyanna had been longing for him to go, that +she might be alone; but after he had gone she wished he were back. She +had found suddenly that she did not want to be alone--with her +thoughts. + +It was wonderfully clear to Pollyanna now. There was no doubt of it. +Jimmy cared for Mrs. Carew. That was why he was so moody and restless +after she left. That was why he had come so seldom to see her, +Pollyanna, his old friend. That was why-- + +Countless little circumstances of the past summer flocked to +Pollyanna's memory now, mute witnesses that would not be denied. + +And why should he not care for her? Mrs. Carew was certainly beautiful +and charming. True, she was older than Jimmy; but young men had +married women far older than she, many times. And if they loved each +other-- + +Pollyanna cried herself to sleep that night. + +In the morning, bravely she tried to face the thing. She even tried, +with a tearful smile, to put it to the test of the glad game. She was +reminded then of something Nancy had said to her years before: "If +there IS a set o' folks in the world that wouldn't have no use for +that 'ere glad game o' your'n, it'd be a pair o' quarrellin' lovers!" + +"Not that we're 'quarrelling,' or even 'lovers,'" thought Pollyanna +blushingly; "but just the same I can be glad HE'S glad, and glad SHE'S +glad, too, only--" Even to herself Pollyanna could not finish this +sentence. + +Being so sure now that Jimmy and Mrs. Carew cared for each other, +Pollyanna became peculiarly sensitive to everything that tended to +strengthen that belief. And being ever on the watch for it, she found +it, as was to be expected. First in Mrs. Carew's letters. + +"I am seeing a lot of your friend, young Pendleton," Mrs. Carew wrote +one day; "and I'm liking him more and more. I do wish, however--just +for curiosity's sake--that I could trace to its source that elusive +feeling that I've seen him before somewhere." + +Frequently, after this, she mentioned him casually; and, to Pollyanna, +in the very casualness of these references lay their sharpest sting; +for it showed so unmistakably that Jimmy and Jimmy's presence were now +to Mrs. Carew a matter of course. From other sources, too, Pollyanna +found fuel for the fire of her suspicions. More and more frequently +John Pendleton "dropped in" with his stories of Jimmy, and of what +Jimmy was doing; and always here there was mention of Mrs. Carew. Poor +Pollyanna wondered, indeed, sometimes, if John Pendleton could not +talk of anything--but Mrs. Carew and Jimmy, so constantly was one or +the other of those names on his lips. + +There were Sadie Dean's letters, too, and they told of Jimmy, and of +what he was doing to help Mrs. Carew. Even Jamie, who wrote +occasionally, had his mite to add, for he wrote one evening: + +"It's ten o'clock. I'm sitting here alone waiting for Mrs. Carew to +come home. She and Pendleton have been to one of their usual socials +down to the Home." + +From Jimmy himself Pollyanna heard very rarely; and for that she told +herself mournfully that she COULD be GLAD. + +"For if he can't write about ANYTHING but Mrs. Carew and those girls, +I'm glad he doesn't write very often!" she sighed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE DAY POLLYANNA DID NOT PLAY + + +And so one by one the winter days passed. January and February slipped +away in snow and sleet, and March came in with a gale that whistled +and moaned around the old house, and set loose blinds to swinging and +loose gates to creaking in a way that was most trying to nerves +already stretched to the breaking point. + +Pollyanna was not finding it very easy these days to play the game, +but she was playing it faithfully, valiantly. Aunt Polly was not +playing it at all--which certainly did not make it any the easier for +Pollyanna to play it. Aunt Polly was blue and discouraged. She was not +well, too, and she had plainly abandoned herself to utter gloom. + +Pollyanna still was counting on the prize contest. She had dropped +from the first prize to one of the smaller ones, however: Pollyanna +had been writing more stories, and the regularity with which they came +back from their pilgrimages to magazine editors was beginning to shake +her faith in her success as an author. + +"Oh, well, I can be glad that Aunt Polly doesn't know anything about +it, anyway," declared Pollyanna to herself bravely, as she twisted in +her fingers the "declined-with-thanks" slip that had just towed in one +more shipwrecked story. "She CAN'T worry about this--she doesn't know +about it!" + +All of Pollyanna's life these days revolved around Aunt Polly, and it +is doubtful if even Aunt Polly herself realized how exacting she had +become, and how entirely her niece was giving up her life to her. + +It was on a particularly gloomy day in March that matters came, in a +way, to a climax. Pollyanna, upon arising, had looked at the sky with +a sigh--Aunt Polly was always more difficult on cloudy days. With a +gay little song, however, that still sounded a bit forced--Pollyanna +descended to the kitchen and began to prepare breakfast. + +"I reckon I'll make corn muffins," she told the stove confidentially; +"then maybe Aunt Polly won't mind--other things so much." + +Half an hour later she tapped at her aunt's door. + +"Up so soon? Oh, that's fine! And you've done your hair yourself!" + +"I couldn't sleep. I had to get up," sighed Aunt Polly, wearily. "I +had to do my hair, too. YOU weren't here." + +"But I didn't suppose you were ready for me, auntie," explained +Pollyanna, hurriedly. "Never mind, though. You'll be glad I wasn't +when you find what I've been doing." + +"Well, I sha'n't--not this morning," frowned Aunt Polly, perversely. +"Nobody could be glad this morning. Look at it rain! That makes the +third rainy day this week." + +"That's so--but you know the sun never seems quite so perfectly lovely +as it does after a lot of rain like this," smiled Pollyanna, deftly +arranging a bit of lace and ribbon at her aunt's throat. "Now come. +Breakfast's all ready. Just you wait till you see what I've got for +you." + +Aunt Polly, however, was not to be diverted, even by corn muffins, +this morning. Nothing was right, nothing was even endurable, as she +felt; and Pollyanna's patience was sorely taxed before the meal was +over. To make matters worse, the roof over the east attic window was +found to be leaking, and an unpleasant letter came in the mail. +Pollyanna, true to her creed, laughingly declared that, for her part, +she was glad they had a roof--to leak; and that, as for the letter, +she'd been expecting it for a week, anyway, and she was actually glad +she wouldn't have to worry any more for fear it would come. It +COULDN'T come now, because it HAD come; and 'twas over with. + +All this, together with sundry other hindrances and annoyances, +delayed the usual morning work until far into the afternoon--something +that was always particularly displeasing to methodical Aunt Polly, who +ordered her own life, preferably, by the tick of the clock. + +"But it's half-past three, Pollyanna, already! Did you know it?" she +fretted at last. "And you haven't made the beds yet." + +"No, dearie, but I will. Don't worry." + +"But, did you hear what I said? Look at the clock, child. It's after +three o'clock!" + +"So 'tis, but never mind, Aunt Polly. We can be glad 'tisn't after +four." + +Aunt Polly sniffed her disdain. + +"I suppose YOU can," she observed tartly. + +Pollyanna laughed. + +"Well, you see, auntie, clocks ARE accommodating things, when you stop +to think about it. I found that out long ago at the Sanatorium. When I +was doing something that I liked, and I didn't WANT the time to go +fast, I'd just look at the hour hand, and I'd feel as if I had lots of +time--it went so slow. Then, other days, when I had to keep something +that hurt on for an hour, maybe, I'd watch the little second hand; and +you see then I felt as if Old Time was just humping himself to help me +out by going as fast as ever he could. Now I'm watching the hour hand +to-day, 'cause I don't want Time to go fast. See?" she twinkled +mischievously, as she hurried from the room, before Aunt Polly had +time to answer. + +It was certainly a hard day, and by night Pollyanna looked pale and +worn out. This, too, was a source of worriment to Aunt Polly. + +"Dear me, child, you look tired to death!" she fumed. "WHAT we're +going to do I don't know. I suppose YOU'LL be sick next!" + +"Nonsense, auntie! I'm not sick a bit," declared Pollyanna, dropping +herself with a sigh on to the couch. "But I AM tired. My! how good +this couch feels! I'm glad I'm tired, after all--it's so nice to +rest." + +Aunt Polly turned with an impatient gesture. + +"Glad--glad--glad! Of course you're glad, Pollyanna. You're always +glad for everything. I never saw such a girl. Oh, yes, I know it's the +game," she went on, in answer to the look that came to Pollyanna's +face. "And it's a very good game, too; but I think you carry it +altogether too far. This eternal doctrine of 'it might be worse' has +got on my nerves, Pollyanna. Honestly, it would be a real relief if +you WOULDN'T be glad for something, sometime!" + +"Why, auntie!" Pollyanna pulled herself half erect. + +"Well, it would. You just try it sometime, and see." + +"But, auntie, I--" Pollyanna stopped and eyed her aunt reflectively. +An odd look came to her eyes; a slow smile curved her lips. Mrs. +Chilton, who had turned back to her work, paid no heed; and, after a +minute, Pollyanna lay back on the couch without finishing her +sentence, the curious smile still on her lips. + +It was raining again when Pollyanna got up the next morning, and a +northeast wind was still whistling down the chimney. Pollyanna at the +window drew an involuntary sigh; but almost at once her face changed. + +"Oh, well, I'm glad--" She clapped her hands to her lips. "Dear me," +she chuckled softly, her eyes dancing, "I shall forget--I know I +shall; and that'll spoil it all! I must just remember not to be glad +for anything--not ANYTHING to-day." + +Pollyanna did not make corn muffins that morning. She started the +breakfast, then went to her aunt's room. + +Mrs. Chilton was still in bed. + +"I see it rains, as usual," she observed, by way of greeting. + +"Yes, it's horrid--perfectly horrid," scolded Pollyanna. "It's rained +'most every day this week, too. I hate such weather." + +Aunt Polly turned with a faint surprise in her eyes; but Pollyanna was +looking the other way. + +"Are you going to get up now?" she asked a little wearily. + +"Why, y-yes," murmured Aunt Polly, still with that faint surprise in +her eyes. "What's the matter, Pollyanna? Are you especially tired?" + +"Yes, I am tired this morning. I didn't sleep well, either. I hate not +to sleep. Things always plague so in the night, when you wake up." + +"I guess I know that," fretted Aunt Polly. "I didn't sleep a wink +after two o'clock myself. And there's that roof! How are we going to +have it fixed, pray, if it never stops raining? Have you been up to +empty the pans?" + +"Oh, yes--and took up some more. There's a new leak now, further +over." + +"A new one! Why, it'll all be leaking yet!" + +Pollyanna opened her lips. She had almost said, "Well, we can be glad +to have it fixed all at once, then," when she suddenly remembered, and +substituted, in a tired voice: + +"Very likely it will, auntie. It looks like it now, fast enough. +Anyway, it's made fuss enough for a whole roof already, and I'm sick +of it!" With which statement, Pollyanna, her face carefully averted, +turned and trailed listlessly out of the room. + +"It's so funny and so--so hard, I'm afraid I'm making a mess of it," +she whispered to herself anxiously, as she hurried down-stairs to the +kitchen. + +Behind her, Aunt Polly, in the bedroom, gazed after her with eyes that +were again faintly puzzled. + +Aunt Polly had occasion a good many times before six o'clock that +night to gaze at Pollyanna with surprised and questioning eyes. +Nothing was right with Pollyanna. The fire would not burn, the wind +blew one particular blind loose three times, and still a third leak +was discovered in the roof. The mail brought to Pollyanna a letter +that made her cry (though no amount of questioning on Aunt Polly's +part would persuade her to tell why). Even the dinner went wrong, and +innumerable things happened in the afternoon to call out fretful, +discouraged remarks. + +Not until the day was more than half gone did a look of shrewd +suspicion suddenly fight for supremacy with the puzzled questioning in +Aunt Polly's eyes. If Pollyanna saw this she made no sign. Certainly +there was no abatement in her fretfulness and discontent. Long before +six o'clock, however, the suspicion in Aunt Polly's eyes became +conviction, and drove to ignominious defeat the puzzled questioning. +But, curiously enough then, a new look came to take its place, a look +that was actually a twinkle of amusement. + +At last, after a particularly doleful complaint on Pollyanna's part, +Aunt Polly threw up her hands with a gesture of half-laughing despair. + +"That'll do, that'll do, child! I'll give up. I'll confess myself +beaten at my own game. You can be--GLAD for that, if you like," she +finished with a grim smile. + +"I know, auntie, but you said--" began Pollyanna demurely. + +"Yes, yes, but I never will again," interrupted Aunt Polly, with +emphasis. "Mercy, what a day this has been! I never want to live +through another like it." She hesitated, flushed a little, then went +on with evident difficulty: "Furthermore, I--I want you to know +that--that I understand I haven't played the game myself--very well, +lately; but, after this, I'm going to--to try--WHERE'S my +handkerchief?" she finished sharply, fumbling in the folds of her +dress. + +Pollyanna sprang to her feet and crossed instantly to her aunt's side. + +"Oh, but Aunt Polly, I didn't mean--It was just a--a joke," she +quavered in quick distress. "I never thought of your taking it THAT +way." + +"Of course you didn't," snapped Aunt Polly, with all the asperity of a +stern, repressed woman who abhors scenes and sentiment, and who is +mortally afraid she will show that her heart has been touched. "Don't +you suppose I know you didn't mean it that way? Do you think, if I +thought you HAD been trying to teach me a lesson that I'd--I'd--" But +Pollyanna's strong young arms had her in a close embrace, and she +could not finish the sentence. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +JIMMY AND JAMIE + + +Pollyanna was not the only one that was finding that winter a hard +one. In Boston Jimmy Pendleton, in spite of his strenuous efforts to +occupy his time and thoughts, was discovering that nothing quite +erased from his vision a certain pair of laughing blue eyes, and +nothing quite obliterated from his memory a certain well-loved, merry +voice. + +Jimmy told himself that if it were not for Mrs. Carew, and the fact +that he could be of some use to her, life would not be worth the +living. Even at Mrs. Carew's it was not all joy, for always there was +Jamie; and Jamie brought thoughts of Pollyanna--unhappy thoughts. + +Being thoroughly convinced that Jamie and Pollyanna cared for each +other, and also being equally convinced that he himself was in honor +bound to step one side and give the handicapped Jamie full right of +way, it never occurred to him to question further. Of Pollyanna he did +not like to talk or to hear. He knew that both Jamie and Mrs. Carew +heard from her; and when they spoke of her, he forced himself to +listen, in spite of his heartache. But he always changed the subject +as soon as possible, and he limited his own letters to her to the +briefest and most infrequent epistles possible. For, to Jimmy, a +Pollyanna that was not his was nothing but a source of pain and +wretchedness; and he had been so glad when the time came for him to +leave Beldingsville and take up his studies again in Boston: to be so +near Pollyanna, and yet so far from her, he had found to be nothing +but torture. + +In Boston, with all the feverishness of a restless mind that seeks +distraction from itself, he had thrown himself into the carrying out +of Mrs. Carew's plans for her beloved working girls, and such time as +could be spared from his own duties he had devoted to this work, much +to Mrs. Carew's delight and gratitude. + +And so for Jimmy the winter had passed and spring had come--a joyous, +blossoming spring full of soft breezes, gentle showers, and tender +green buds expanding into riotous bloom and fragrance. To Jimmy, +however, it was anything but a joyous spring, for in his heart was +still nothing but a gloomy winter of discontent. + +"If only they'd settle things and announce the engagement, once for +all," murmured Jimmy to himself, more and more frequently these days. +"If only I could know SOMETHING for sure, I think I could stand it +better!" + +Then one day late in April, he had his wish--a part of it: he learned +"something for sure." + +It was ten o'clock on a Saturday morning, and Mary, at Mrs. Carew's, +had ushered him into the music-room with a well-trained: "I'll tell +Mrs. Carew you're here, sir. She's expecting you, I think." + +In the music-room Jimmy had found himself brought to a dismayed halt +by the sight of Jamie at the piano, his arms outflung upon the rack, +and his head bowed upon them. Pendleton had half turned to beat a soft +retreat when the man at the piano lifted his head, bringing into view +two flushed cheeks and a pair of fever-bright eyes. + +"Why, Carew," stammered Pendleton, aghast, "has +anything--er--happened?" + +"Happened! Happened!" ejaculated the lame youth, flinging out both his +hands, in each of which, as Pendleton now saw, was an open letter. +"Everything has happened! Wouldn't you think it had if all your life +you'd been in prison, and suddenly you saw the gates flung wide open? +Wouldn't you think it had if all in a minute you could ask the girl +you loved to be your wife? Wouldn't you think it had if--But, listen! +You think I'm crazy, but I'm not. Though maybe I am, after all, crazy +with joy. I'd like to tell you. May I? I've got to tell somebody!" + +Pendleton lifted his head. It was as if, unconsciously, he was bracing +himself for a blow. He had grown a little white; but his voice was +quite steady when he answered. + +"Sure you may, old fellow. I'd be--glad to hear it." + +Carew, however, had scarcely waited for assent. He was rushing on, +still a bit incoherently. + +"It's not much to you, of course. You have two feet and your freedom. +You have your ambitions and your bridges. But I--to me it's +everything. It's a chance to live a man's life and do a man's work, +perhaps--even if it isn't dams and bridges. It's something!--and it's +something I've proved now I CAN DO! Listen. In that letter there is +the announcement that a little story of mine has won the first +prize--$3,000, in a contest. In that other letter there, a big +publishing house accepts with flattering enthusiasm my first book +manuscript for publication. And they both came to-day--this morning. +Do you wonder I am crazy glad?" + +"No! No, indeed! I congratulate you, Carew, with all my heart," cried +Jimmy, warmly. + +"Thank you--and you may congratulate me. Think what it means to me. +Think what it means if, by and by, I can be independent, like a man. +Think what it means if I can, some day, make Mrs. Carew proud and glad +that she gave the crippled lad a place in her home and heart. Think +what it means for me to be able to tell the girl I love that I DO love +her." + +"Yes--yes, indeed, old boy!" Jimmy spoke firmly, though he had grown +very white now. + +"Of course, maybe I ought not to do that last, even now," resumed +Jamie, a swift cloud shadowing the shining brightness of his +countenance. "I'm still tied to--these." He tapped the crutches by his +side. "I can't forget, of course, that day in the woods last summer, +when I saw Pollyanna--I realize that always I'll have to run the +chance of seeing the girl I love in danger, and not being able to +rescue her." + +"Oh, but Carew--" began the other huskily. + +Carew lifted a peremptory hand. + +"I know what you'd say. But don't say it. You can't understand. YOU +aren't tied to two sticks. You did the rescuing, not I. It came to me +then how it would be, always, with me and--Sadie. I'd have to stand +aside and see others--" + +"SADIE!" cut in Jimmy, sharply. + +"Yes; Sadie Dean. You act surprised. Didn't you know? Haven't you +suspected--how I felt toward Sadie?" cried Jamie. "Have I kept it so +well to myself, then? I tried to, but--" He finished with a faint +smile and a half-despairing gesture. + +"Well, you certainly kept it all right, old fellow--from me, anyhow," +cried Jimmy, gayly. The color had come back to Jimmy's face in a rich +flood, and his eyes had grown suddenly very bright indeed. "So it's +Sadie Dean. Good! I congratulate you again, I do, I do, as Nancy +says." Jimmy was quite babbling with joy and excitement now, so great +and wonderful had been the reaction within him at the discovery that +it was Sadie, not Pollyanna, whom Jamie loved. Jamie flushed and shook +his head a bit sadly. + +"No congratulations--yet. You see, I haven't spoken to--her. But I +think she must know. I supposed everybody knew. Pray, whom did you +think it was, if not--Sadie?" + +Jimmy hesitated. Then, a little precipitately, he let it out. + +"Why, I'd thought of--Pollyanna." + +Jamie smiled and pursed his lips. + +"Pollyanna's a charming girl, and I love her--but not that way, any +more than she does me. Besides, I fancy somebody else would have +something to say about that; eh?" + +Jimmy colored like a happy, conscious boy. + +"Do you?" he challenged, trying to make his voice properly impersonal. + +"Of course! John Pendleton." + +"JOHN PENDLETON!" Jimmy wheeled sharply. + +"What about John Pendleton?" queried a new voice; and Mrs. Carew came +forward with a smile. + +Jimmy, around whose ears for the second time within five minutes the +world had crashed into fragments, barely collected himself enough for +a low word of greeting. But Jamie, unabashed, turned with a triumphant +air of assurance. + +"Nothing; only I just said that I believed John Pendleton would have +something to say about Pollyanna's loving anybody--but him." + +"POLLYANNA! JOHN PENDLETON!" Mrs. Carew sat down suddenly in the chair +nearest her. If the two men before her had not been so deeply absorbed +in their own affairs they might have noticed that the smile had +vanished from Mrs. Carew's lips, and that an odd look as of almost +fear had come to her eyes. + +"Certainly," maintained Jamie. "Were you both blind last summer? +Wasn't he with her a lot?" + +"Why, I thought he was with--all of us," murmured Mrs. Carew, a little +faintly. + +"Not as he was with Pollyanna," insisted Jamie. "Besides, have you +forgotten that day when we were talking about John Pendleton's +marrying, and Pollyanna blushed and stammered and said finally that he +HAD thought of marrying--once. Well, I wondered then if there wasn't +SOMETHING between them. Don't you remember?" + +"Y-yes, I think I do--now that you speak of it," murmured Mrs. Carew +again. "But I had--forgotten it." + +"Oh, but I can explain that," cut in Jimmy, wetting his dry lips. +"John Pendleton DID have a love affair once, but it was with +Pollyanna's mother." + +"Pollyanna's mother!" exclaimed two voices in surprise. + +"Yes. He loved her years ago, but she did not care for him at all, I +understand. She had another lover--a minister, and she married him +instead--Pollyanna's father." + +"Oh-h!" breathed Mrs. Carew, leaning forward suddenly in her chair. +"And is that why he's--never married?" + +"Yes," avouched Jimmy. "So you see there's really nothing to that idea +at all--that he cares for Pollyanna. It was her mother." + +"On the contrary I think it makes a whole lot to that idea," declared +Jamie, wagging his head wisely. "I think it makes my case all the +stronger. Listen. He once loved the mother. He couldn't have her. What +more absolutely natural than that he should love the daughter now--and +win her?" + +"Oh, Jamie, you incorrigible spinner of tales!" reproached Mrs. Carew, +with a nervous laugh. "This is no ten-penny novel. It's real life. +She's too young for him. He ought to marry a woman, not a girl--that +is, if he marries any one, I mean," she stammeringly corrected, a +sudden flood of color in her face. + +"Perhaps; but what if it happens to be a GIRL that he loves?" argued +Jamie, stubbornly. "And, really, just stop to think. Have we had a +single letter from her that hasn't told of his being there? And you +KNOW how HE'S always talking of Pollyanna in his letters." + +Mrs. Carew got suddenly to her feet. + +"Yes, I know," she murmured, with an odd little gesture, as if +throwing something distasteful aside. "But--" She did not finish her +sentence, and a moment later she had left the room. + +When she came back in five minutes she found, much to her surprise, +that Jimmy had gone. + +"Why, I thought he was going with us on the girls' picnic!" she +exclaimed. + +"So did I," frowned Jamie. "But the first thing I knew he was +explaining or apologizing or something about unexpectedly having to +leave town, and he'd come to tell you he couldn't go with us. Anyhow, +the next thing I knew he'd gone. You see,"--Jamie's eyes were glowing +again--"I don't think I knew quite what he did say, anyway. I had +something else to think of." And he jubilantly spread before her the +two letters which all the time he had still kept in his hands. + +"Oh, Jamie!" breathed Mrs. Carew, when she had read the letters +through. "How proud I am of you!" Then suddenly her eyes filled with +tears at the look of ineffable joy that illumined Jamie's face. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +JIMMY AND JOHN + + +It was a very determined, square-jawed young man that alighted at the +Beldingsville station late that Saturday night. And it was an even +more determined, square-jawed young man that, before ten o'clock the +next morning, stalked through the Sunday-quiet village streets and +climbed the hill to the Harrington homestead. Catching sight of a +loved and familiar flaxen coil of hair on a well-poised little head +just disappearing into the summerhouse, the young man ignored the +conventional front steps and doorbell, crossed the lawn, and strode +through the garden paths until he came face to face with the owner of +the flaxen coil of hair. + +"Jimmy!" gasped Pollyanna, falling back with startled eyes. "Why, +where did you--come from?" + +"Boston. Last night. I had to see you, Pollyanna." + +"To--see--m-me?" Pollyanna was plainly fencing for time to regain her +composure. Jimmy looked so big and strong and DEAR there in the door +of the summerhouse that she feared her eyes had been surprised into a +telltale admiration, if not more. + +"Yes, Pollyanna; I wanted--that is, I thought--I mean, I feared--Oh, +hang it all, Pollyanna, I can't beat about the bush like this. I'll +have to come straight to the point. It's just this. I stood aside +before, but I won't now. It isn't a case any longer of fairness. He +isn't crippled like Jamie. He's got feet and hands and a head like +mine, and if he wins he'll have to win in a fair fight. I'VE got some +rights!" + +Pollyanna stared frankly. + +"Jimmy Bean Pendleton, whatever in the world are you talking about?" +she demanded. + +The young man laughed shamefacedly. + +"No wonder you don't know. It wasn't very lucid, was it? But I don't +think I've been really lucid myself since yesterday--when I found out +from Jamie himself." + +"Found out--from Jamie!" + +"Yes. It was the prize that started it. You see, he'd just got one, +and--" + +"Oh, I know about that," interrupted Pollyanna, eagerly. "And wasn't +it splendid? Just think--the first one--three thousand dollars! I +wrote him a letter last night. Why, when I saw his name, and realized +it was Jamie--OUR JAMIE--I was so excited I forgot all about looking +for MY name, and even when I couldn't find mine at all, and knew that +I hadn't got any--I mean, I was so excited and pleased for Jamie that +I--I forgot--er--everything else," corrected Pollyanna, throwing a +dismayed glance into Jimmy's face, and feverishly trying to cover up +the partial admission she had made. + +Jimmy, however, was too intent on his own problem to notice hers. + +"Yes, yes, 'twas fine, of course. I'm glad he got it. But Pollyanna, +it was what he said AFTERWARD that I mean. You see, until then I'd +thought that--that he cared--that you cared--for each other, I mean; +and--" + +"You thought that Jamie and I cared for each other!" exclaimed +Pollyanna, into whose face now was stealing a soft, shy color. "Why, +Jimmy, it's Sadie Dean. 'Twas always Sadie Dean. He used to talk of +her to me by the hour. I think she likes him, too." + +"Good! I hope she does; but, you see, I didn't know. I thought 'twas +Jamie--and you. And I thought that because he was--was a cripple, you +know, that it wouldn't be fair if I--if I stayed around and tried to +win you myself." + +Pollyanna stooped suddenly, and picked up a leaf at her feet. When she +rose, her face was turned quite away. + +"A fellow can't--can't feel square, you know, running a race with a +chap that--that's handicapped from the start. So I--I just stayed away +and gave him his chance; though it 'most broke my heart to do it, +little girl. It just did! Then yesterday morning I found out. But I +found out something else, too. Jamie says there is--is somebody else +in the case. But I can't stand aside for him, Pollyanna. I can't--even +in spite of all he's done for me. John Pendleton is a man, and he's +got two whole feet for the race. He's got to take his chances. If you +care for him--if you really care for him--" + +But Pollyanna had turned, wild-eyed. + +"JOHN PENDLETON! Jimmy, what do you mean? What are you saying--about +John Pendleton?" + +A great joy transfigured Jimmy's face. He held out both his hands. + +"Then you don't--you don't! I can see it in your eyes that you +don't--care!" + +Pollyanna shrank back. She was white and trembling. + +"Jimmy, what do you mean? What do you mean?" she begged piteously. + +"I mean--you don't care for Uncle John, that way. Don't you +understand? Jamie thinks you do care, and that anyway he cares for +you. And then I began to see it--that maybe he did. He's always +talking about you; and, of course, there was your mother--" + +Pollyanna gave a low moan and covered her face with her hands. Jimmy +came close and laid a caressing arm about her shoulders; but again +Pollyanna shrank from him. + +"Pollyanna, little girl, don't! You'll break my heart," he begged. +"Don't you care for me--ANY? Is it that, and you don't want to tell +me?" + +She dropped her hands and faced him. Her eyes had the hunted look of +some wild thing at bay. + +"Jimmy, do YOU think--he cares for me--that way?" she entreated, just +above a whisper. + +Jimmy gave his head an impatient shake. + +"Never mind that, Pollyanna,--now. I don't know, of course. How should +I? But, dearest, that isn't the question. It's you. If YOU don't care +for him, and if you'll only give me a chance--half a chance to let me +make you care for me--" He caught her hand, and tried to draw her to +him. + +"No, no, Jimmy, I mustn't! I can't!" With both her little palms she +pushed him from her. + +"Pollyanna, you don't mean you DO care for him?" Jimmy's face +whitened. + +"No; no, indeed--not that way," faltered Pollyanna. "But--don't you +see?--if he cares for me, I'll have to--to learn to, someway." + +"POLLYANNA!" + +"Don't! Don't look at me like that, Jimmy!" + +"You mean you'd MARRY him, Pollyanna?" + +"Oh, no!--I mean--why--er--y-yes, I suppose so," she admitted faintly. + +"Pollyanna, you wouldn't! You couldn't! Pollyanna, you--you're +breaking my heart." + +Pollyanna gave a low sob. Her face was in her hands again. For a +moment she sobbed on, chokingly; then, with a tragic gesture, she +lifted her head and looked straight into Jimmy's anguished, +reproachful eyes. + +"I know it, I know it," she chattered frenziedly. "I'm breaking mine, +too. But I'll have to do it. I'd break your heart, I'd break mine--but +I'd never break his!" + +Jimmy raised his head. His eyes flashed a sudden fire. His whole +appearance underwent a swift and marvelous change. With a tender, +triumphant cry he swept Pollyanna into his arms and held her close. + +"Now I KNOW you care for me!" he breathed low in her ear. "You said it +was breaking YOUR heart, too. Do you think I'll give you up now to any +man on earth? Ah, dear, you little understand a love like mine if you +think I'd give you up now. Pollyanna, say you love me--say it with +your own dear lips!" + +For one long minute Pollyanna lay unresisting in the fiercely tender +embrace that encircled her; then with a sigh that was half content, +half renunciation, she began to draw herself away. + +"Yes, Jimmy, I do love you." Jimmy's arms tightened, and would have +drawn her back to him; but something in the girl's face forbade. "I +love you dearly. But I couldn't ever be happy with you and feel +that--Jimmy, don't you see, dear? I'll have to know--that I'm free, +first." + +"Nonsense, Pollyanna! Of course you're free!" Jimmy's eyes were +mutinous again. + +Pollyanna shook her head. + +"Not with this hanging over me, Jimmy. Don't you see? It was mother, +long ago, that broke his heart--MY MOTHER. And all these years he's +lived a lonely, unloved life in consequence. If now he should come to +me and ask me to make that up to him, I'd HAVE to do it, Jimmy. I'd +HAVE to. I couldn't REFUSE! Don't you see?" + +But Jimmy did not see; he could not see. He would not see, though +Pollyanna pleaded and argued long and tearfully. But Pollyanna, too, +was obdurate, though so sweetly and heartbrokenly obdurate that Jimmy, +in spite of his pain and anger, felt almost like turning comforter. + +"Jimmy, dear," said Pollyanna, at last, "we'll have to wait. That's +all I can say now. I hope he doesn't care; and I--I don't believe he +does care. But I've got to KNOW. I've got to be sure. We'll just have +to wait, a little, till we find out, Jimmy--till we find out!" + +And to this plan Jimmy had to submit, though it was with a most +rebellious heart. + +"All right, little girl, it'll have to be as you say, of course," he +despaired. "But, surely, never before was a man kept waiting for his +answer till the girl he loved, AND WHO LOVED HIM, found out if the +other man wanted her!" + +"I know; but, you see, dear, never before had the other man WANTED her +mother," sighed Pollyanna, her face puckered into an anxious frown. + +"Very well, I'll go back to Boston, of course," acceded Jimmy +reluctantly. "But you needn't think I've given up--because I haven't. +Nor I sha'n't give up, just so long as I know you really care for me, +my little sweetheart," he finished, with a look that sent her +palpitatingly into retreat, just out of reach of his arms. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +JOHN PENDLETON TURNS THE KEY + + +Jimmy went back to Boston that night in a state that was a most +tantalizing commingling of happiness, hope, exasperation, and +rebellion. Behind him he left a girl who was in a scarcely less +enviable frame of mind; for Pollyanna, tremulously happy in the +wondrous thought of Jimmy's love for her, was yet so despairingly +terrified at the thought of the possible love of John Pendleton, that +there was not a thrill of joy that did not carry its pang of fear. + +Fortunately for all concerned, however, this state of affairs was not +of long duration; for, as it chanced, John Pendleton, in whose +unwitting hands lay the key to the situation, in less than a week +after Jimmy's hurried visit, turned that key in the lock, and opened +the door of doubt. + +It was late Thursday afternoon that John Pendleton called to see +Pollyanna. As it happened, he, like Jimmy, saw Pollyanna in the garden +and came straight toward her. + +Pollyanna, looking into his face, felt a sudden sinking of the heart. + +"It's come--it's come!" she shivered; and involuntarily she turned as +if to flee. + +[Illustration: "Involuntarily she turned as if to flee"] + +"Oh, Pollyanna, wait a minute, please," called the man hastening his +steps. "You're just the one I wanted to see. Come, can't we go in +here?" he suggested, turning toward the summerhouse. "I want to speak +to you about--something." + +"Why, y-yes, of course," stammered Pollyanna, with forced gayety. +Pollyanna knew that she was blushing, and she particularly wished not +to blush just then. It did not help matters any, either, that he +should have elected to go into the summerhouse for his talk. The +summerhouse now, to Pollyanna, was sacred to certain dear memories of +Jimmy. "And to think it should be here--HERE!" she was shuddering +frantically. But aloud she said, still gayly, "It's a lovely evening, +isn't it?" + +There was no answer. John Pendleton strode into the summerhouse and +dropped himself into a rustic chair without even waiting for Pollyanna +to seat herself--a most unusual proceeding on the part of John +Pendleton. Pollyanna, stealing a nervous glance at his face found it +so startlingly like the old stern, sour visage of her childhood's +remembrance, that she uttered an involuntary exclamation. + +Still John Pendleton paid no heed. Still moodily he sat wrapped in +thought. At last, however, he lifted his head and gazed somberly into +Pollyanna's startled eyes. + +"Pollyanna." + +"Yes, Mr. Pendleton." + +"Do you remember the sort of man I was when you first knew me, years +ago?" + +"Why, y-yes, I think so." + +"Delightfully agreeable specimen of humanity, wasn't I?" + +In spite of her perturbation Pollyanna smiled faintly. + +"I--_I_ liked you, sir." Not until the words were uttered did +Pollyanna realize just how they would sound. She strove then, +frantically, to recall or modify them and had almost added a "that is, +I mean, I liked you THEN!" when she stopped just in time: certainly +THAT would not have helped matters any! She listened then, fearfully, +for John Pendleton's next words. They came almost at once. + +"I know you did--bless your little heart! And it was that that was the +saving of me. I wonder, Pollyanna, if I could ever make you realize +just what your childish trust and liking did for me." + +Pollyanna stammered a confused protest; but he brushed it smilingly +aside. + +"Oh, yes, it was! It was you, and no one else. I wonder if you +remember another thing, too," resumed the man, after a moment's +silence, during which Pollyanna looked furtively, but longingly toward +the door. "I wonder if you remember my telling you once that nothing +but a woman's hand and heart, or a child's presence could make a +home." + +Pollyanna felt the blood rush to her face. + +"Y-yes, n-no--I mean, yes, I remember it," she stuttered; "but I--I +don't think it's always so now. I mean--that is, I'm sure your home +now is--is lovely just as 'tis, and--" + +"But it's my home I'm talking about, child," interrupted the man, +impatiently. "Pollyanna, you know the kind of home I once hoped to +have, and how those hopes were dashed to the ground. Don't think, +dear, I'm blaming your mother. I'm not. She but obeyed her heart, +which was right; and she made the wiser choice, anyway, as was proved +by the dreary waste I've made of life because of that disappointment. +After all, Pollyanna, isn't it strange," added John Pendleton, his +voice growing tender, "that it should be the little hand of her own +daughter that led me into the path of happiness, at last?" + +Pollyanna moistened her lips convulsively. + +"Oh, but Mr. Pendleton, I--I--" + +Once again the man brushed aside her protests with a smiling gesture. + +"Yes, it was, Pollyanna, your little hand in the long ago--you, and +your glad game." + +"Oh-h!" Pollyanna relaxed visibly in her seat. The terror in her eyes +began slowly to recede. + +"And so all these years I've been gradually growing into a different +man, Pollyanna. But there's one thing I haven't changed in, my dear." +He paused, looked away, then turned gravely tender eyes back to her +face. "I still think it takes a woman's hand and heart or a child's +presence to make a home." + +"Yes; b-but you've g-got the child's presence," plunged in Pollyanna, +the terror coming back to her eyes. "There's Jimmy, you know." + +The man gave an amused laugh. + +"I know; but--I don't think even you would say that Jimmy is--is +exactly a CHILD'S presence any longer," he remarked. + +"N-no, of course not." + +"Besides--Pollyanna, I've made up my mind. I've got to have the +woman's hand and heart." His voice dropped, and trembled a little. + +"Oh-h, have you?" Pollyanna's fingers met and clutched each other in a +spasmodic clasp. John Pendleton, however, seemed neither to hear nor +see. He had leaped to his feet, and was nervously pacing up and down +the little house. + +"Pollyanna," he stopped and faced her; "if--if you were I, and were +going to ask the woman you loved to come and make your old gray pile +of stone a home, how would you go to work to do it?" + +Pollyanna half started from her chair. Her eyes sought the door, this +time openly, longingly. + +"Oh, but, Mr. Pendleton, I wouldn't do it at all, at all," she +stammered, a little wildly. "I'm sure you'd be--much happier as--as +you are." + +The man stared in puzzled surprise, then laughed grimly. + +"Upon my word, Pollyanna, is it--quite so bad as that?" he asked. + +"B-bad?" Pollyanna had the appearance of being poised for flight. + +"Yes. Is that just your way of trying to soften the blow of saying +that you don't think she'd have me, anyway?" + +"Oh, n-no--no, indeed. She'd say yes--she'd HAVE to say yes, you +know," explained Pollyanna, with terrified earnestness. "But I've been +thinking--I mean, I was thinking that if--if the girl didn't love you, +you really would be happier without her; and--" At the look that came +into John Pendleton's face, Pollyanna stopped short. + +"I shouldn't want her, if she didn't love me, Pollyanna." + +"No, I thought not, too." Pollyanna began to look a little less +distracted. + +"Besides, she doesn't happen to be a girl," went on John Pendleton. +"She's a mature woman who, presumedly, would know her own mind." The +man's voice was grave and slightly reproachful. + +"Oh-h-h! Oh!" exclaimed Pollyanna, the dawning happiness in her eyes +leaping forth in a flash of ineffable joy and relief. "Then you love +somebody--" By an almost superhuman effort Pollyanna choked off the +"else" before it left her delighted lips. + +"Love somebody! Haven't I just been telling you I did?" laughed John +Pendleton, half vexedly. "What I want to know is--can she be made to +love me? That's where I was sort of--of counting on your help, +Pollyanna. You see, she's a dear friend of yours." + +"Is she?" gurgled Pollyanna. "Then she'll just have to love you. We'll +make her! Maybe she does, anyway, already. Who is she?" + +There was a long pause before the answer came. + +"I believe, after all, Pollyanna, I won't--yes, I will, too. +It's--can't you guess?--Mrs. Carew." + +"Oh!" breathed Pollyanna, with a face of unclouded joy. "How perfectly +lovely! I'm so glad, GLAD, GLAD!" + +A long hour later Pollyanna sent Jimmy a letter. It was confused and +incoherent--a series of half-completed, illogical, but shyly joyous +sentences, out of which Jimmy gathered much: a little from what was +written; more from what was left unwritten. After all, did he really +need more than this? + +"Oh, Jimmy, he doesn't love me a bit. It's some one else. I mustn't +tell you who it is--but her name isn't Pollyanna." + +Jimmy had just time to catch the seven o'clock train for +Beldingsville--and he caught it. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +AFTER LONG YEARS + + +Pollyanna was so happy that night after she had sent her letter to +Jimmy that she could not quite keep it to herself. Always before going +to bed she stepped into her aunt's room to see if anything were +needed. To-night, after the usual questions, she had turned to put out +the light when a sudden impulse sent her back to her aunt's bedside. A +little breathlessly she dropped on her knees. + +"Aunt Polly, I'm so happy I just had to tell some one. I WANT to tell +you. May I?" + +"Tell me? Tell me what, child? Of course you may tell me. You mean, +it's good news--for ME?" + +"Why, yes, dear; I hope so," blushed Pollyanna. "I hope it will make +you--GLAD, a little, for me, you know. Of course Jimmy will tell you +himself all properly some day. But _I_ wanted to tell you first." + +"Jimmy!" Mrs. Chilton's face changed perceptibly. + +"Yes, when--when he--he asks you for me," stammered Pollyanna, with a +radiant flood of color. "Oh, I--I'm so happy, I HAD to tell you!" + +"Asks me for you! Pollyanna!" Mrs. Chilton pulled herself up in bed. +"You don't mean to say there's anything SERIOUS between you and--Jimmy +Bean!" + +Pollyanna fell back in dismay. + +"Why, auntie, I thought you LIKED Jimmy!" + +"So I do--in his place. But that place isn't the husband of my niece." + +"AUNT POLLY!" + +"Come, come, child, don't look so shocked. This is all sheer nonsense, +and I'm glad I've been able to stop it before it's gone any further." + +"But, Aunt Polly, it HAS gone further," quavered Pollyanna. "Why, I--I +already have learned to lo-- --c-care for him--dearly." + +"Then you'll have to unlearn it, Pollyanna, for never, never will I +give my consent to your marrying Jimmy Bean." + +"But--w-why, auntie?" + +"First and foremost because we know nothing about him." + +"Why, Aunt Polly, we've always known him, ever since I was a little +girl!" + +"Yes, and what was he? A rough little runaway urchin from an Orphans' +Home! We know nothing whatever about his people, and his pedigree." + +"But I'm not marrying his p-people and his p-pedigree!" + +With an impatient groan Aunt Polly fell back on her pillow. + +"Pollyanna, you're making me positively ill. My heart is going like a +trip hammer. I sha'n't sleep a wink to-night. CAN'T you let this thing +rest till morning?" + +Pollyanna was on her feet instantly, her face all contrition. + +"Why, yes--yes, indeed; of course, Aunt Polly! And to-morrow you'll +feel different, I'm sure. I'm sure you will," reiterated the girl, her +voice quivering with hope again, as she turned to extinguish the +light. + +But Aunt Polly did not "feel different" in the morning. If anything, +her opposition to the marriage was even more determined. In vain +Pollyanna pleaded and argued. In vain she showed how deeply her +happiness was concerned. Aunt Polly was obdurate. She would have none +of the idea. She sternly admonished Pollyanna as to the possible evils +of heredity, and warned her of the dangers of marrying into she knew +not what sort of family. She even appealed at last to her sense of +duty and gratitude toward herself, and reminded Pollyanna of the long +years of loving care that had been hers in the home of her aunt, and +she begged her piteously not to break her heart by this marriage as +had her mother years before by HER marriage. + +When Jimmy himself, radiant-faced and glowing-eyed, came at ten +o'clock, he was met by a frightened, sob-shaken little Pollyanna that +tried ineffectually to hold him back with two trembling hands. With +whitening cheeks, but with defiantly tender arms that held her close, +he demanded an explanation. + +"Pollyanna, dearest, what in the world is the meaning of this?" + +"Oh, Jimmy, Jimmy, why did you come, why did you come? I was going to +write and tell you straight away," moaned Pollyanna. + +"But you did write me, dear. I got it yesterday afternoon, just in +time to catch my train." + +"No, no;--AGAIN, I mean. I didn't know then that I--I couldn't." + +"Couldn't! Pollyanna,"--his eyes flamed into stern wrath,--"you don't +mean to tell me there's anybody ELSE'S love you think you've got to +keep me waiting for?" he demanded, holding her at arm's length. + +"No, no, Jimmy! Don't look at me like that. I can't bear it!" + +"Then what is it? What is it you can't do?" + +"I can't--marry you." + +"Pollyanna, do you love me?" + +"Yes. Oh, y-yes." + +"Then you shall marry me," triumphed Jimmy, his arms enfolding her +again. + +"No, no, Jimmy, you don't understand. It's--Aunt Polly," struggled +Pollyanna. + +"AUNT POLLY!" + +"Yes. She--won't let me." + +"Ho!" Jimmy tossed his head with a light laugh. "We'll fix Aunt Polly. +She thinks she's going to lose you, but we'll just remind her that +she--she's going to gain a--a new nephew!" he finished in mock +importance. + +But Pollyanna did not smile. She turned her head hopelessly from side +to side. + +"No, no, Jimmy, you don't understand! She--she--oh, how can I tell +you?--she objects to--to YOU--for--ME." + +Jimmy's arms relaxed a little. His eyes sobered. + +"Oh, well, I suppose I can't blame her for that. I'm no--wonder, of +course," he admitted constrainedly. "Still,"--he turned loving eyes +upon her--"I'd try to make you--happy, dear." + +"Indeed you would! I know you would," protested Pollyanna, tearfully. + +"Then why not--give me a chance to try, Pollyanna, even if +she--doesn't quite approve, at first. Maybe in time, after we were +married, we could win her over." + +"Oh, but I couldn't--I couldn't do that," moaned Pollyanna, "after +what she's said. I couldn't--without her consent. You see, she's done +so much for me, and she's so dependent on me. She isn't well a bit, +now, Jimmy. And, really, lately she's been so--so loving, and she's +been trying so hard to--to play the game, you know, in spite of all +her troubles. And she--she cried, Jimmy, and begged me not to break +her heart as--as mother did long ago. And--and Jimmy, I--I just +couldn't, after all she's done for me." + +There was a moment's pause; then, with a vivid red mounting to her +forehead, Pollyanna spoke again, brokenly. + +"Jimmy, if you--if you could only tell Aunt Polly something +about--about your father, and your people, and--" + +Jimmy's arms dropped suddenly. He stepped back a little. The color +drained from his face. + +"Is--that--it?" he asked. + +"Yes." Pollyanna came nearer, and touched his arm timidly. "Don't +think--It isn't for me, Jimmy. I don't care. Besides, I KNOW that your +father and your people were all--all fine and noble, because YOU are +so fine and noble. But she--Jimmy, don't look at me like that!" + +But Jimmy, with a low moan had turned quite away from her. A minute +later, with only a few choking words, which she could not understand, +he had left the house. + +From the Harrington homestead Jimmy went straight home and sought out +John Pendleton. He found him in the great crimson-hung library where, +some years before, Pollyanna had looked fearfully about for the +"skeleton in John Pendleton's closet." + +"Uncle John, do you remember that packet father gave me?" demanded +Jimmy. + +"Why, yes. What's the matter, son?" John Pendleton had given a start +of surprise at sight of Jimmy's face. + +"That packet has got to be opened, sir." + +"But--the conditions!" + +"I can't help it. It's got to be. That's all. Will you do it?" + +"Why, y-yes, my boy, of course, if you insist; but--" he paused +helplessly. + +"Uncle John, as perhaps you have guessed, I love Pollyanna. I asked +her to be my wife, and she consented." The elder man made a delighted +exclamation, but the other did not pause, or change his sternly intent +expression. "She says now she can't--marry me. Mrs. Chilton objects. +She objects to ME." + +"OBJECTS to YOU!" John Pendleton's eyes flashed angrily. + +"Yes. I found out why when--when Pollyanna begged if I couldn't tell +her aunt something about--about my father and my people." + +"Shucks! I thought Polly Chilton had more sense--still, it's just like +her, after all. The Harringtons have always been inordinately proud of +race and family," snapped John Pendleton. "Well, could you?" + +"COULD _I_! It was on the end of my tongue to tell Pollyanna that +there couldn't have been a better father than mine was; then, +suddenly, I remembered--the packet, and what it said. And I was +afraid. I didn't dare say a word till I knew what was inside that +packet. There's something dad didn't want me to know till I was thirty +years old--when I would be a man grown, and could stand anything. See? +There's a secret somewhere in our lives. I've got to know that secret, +and I've got to know it now." + +"But, Jimmy, lad, don't look so tragic. It may be a good secret. +Perhaps it'll be something you'll LIKE to know." + +"Perhaps. But if it had been, would he have been apt to keep it from +me till I was thirty years old? No! Uncle John, it was something he +was trying to save me from till I was old enough to stand it and not +flinch. Understand, I'm not blaming dad. Whatever it was, it was +something he couldn't help, I'll warrant. But WHAT it was I've got to +know. Will you get it, please? It's in your safe, you know." + +John Pendleton rose at once. + +"I'll get it," he said. Three minutes later it lay in Jimmy's hand; +but Jimmy held it out at once. + +"I would rather you read it, sir, please. Then tell me." + +"But, Jimmy, I--very well." With a decisive gesture John Pendleton +picked up a paper-cutter, opened the envelope, and pulled out the +contents. There was a package of several papers tied together, and one +folded sheet alone, apparently a letter. This John Pendleton opened +and read first. And as he read, Jimmy, tense and breathless, watched +his face. He saw, therefore, the look of amazement, joy, and something +else he could not name, that leaped into John Pendleton's countenance. + +"Uncle John, what is it? What is it?" he demanded. + +"Read it--for yourself," answered the man, thrusting the letter into +Jimmy's outstretched hand. And Jimmy read this: + +"The enclosed papers are the legal proof that my boy Jimmy is really +James Kent, son of John Kent, who married Doris Wetherby, daughter of +William Wetherby of Boston. There is also a letter in which I explain +to my boy why I have kept him from his mother's family all these +years. If this packet is opened by him at thirty years of age, he will +read this letter, and I hope will forgive a father who feared to lose +his boy entirely, so took this drastic course to keep him to himself. +If it is opened by strangers, because of his death, I request that his +mother's people in Boston be notified at once, and the inclosed +package of papers be given, intact, into their hands. + +"JOHN KENT." + +Jimmy was pale and shaken when he looked up to meet John Pendleton's +eyes. + +"Am I--the lost--Jamie?" he faltered. + +"That letter says you have documents there to prove it," nodded the +other. + +"Mrs. Carew's nephew?" + +"Of course." + +"But, why--what--I can't realize it!" There was a moment's pause +before into Jimmy's face flashed a new joy. "Then, surely now I know +who I am! I can tell--Mrs. Chilton SOMETHING of my people." + +"I should say you could," retorted John Pendleton, dryly. "The Boston +Wetherbys can trace straight back to the crusades, and I don't know +but to the year one. That ought to satisfy her. As for your father--he +came of good stock, too, Mrs. Carew told me, though he was rather +eccentric, and not pleasing to the family, as you know, of course." + +"Yes. Poor dad! And what a life he must have lived with me all those +years--always dreading pursuit. I can understand--lots of things, now, +that used to puzzle me. A woman called me 'Jamie,' once. Jove! how +angry he was! I know now why he hurried me away that night without +even waiting for supper. Poor dad! It was right after that he was +taken sick. He couldn't use his hands or his feet, and very soon he +couldn't talk straight. Something ailed his speech. I remember when he +died he was trying to tell me something about this packet. I believe +now he was telling me to open it, and go to my mother's people; but I +thought then he was just telling me to keep it safe. So that's what I +promised him. But it didn't comfort him any. It only seemed to worry +him more. You see, I didn't understand. Poor dad!" + +"Suppose we take a look at these papers," suggested John Pendleton. +"Besides, there's a letter from your father to you, I understand. +Don't you want to read it?" + +"Yes, of course. And then--" the young fellow laughed shamefacedly and +glanced at the clock--"I was wondering just how soon I could go +back--to Pollyanna." + +A thoughtful frown came to John Pendleton's face. He glanced at Jimmy, +hesitated, then spoke. + +"I know you want to see Pollyanna, lad, and I don't blame you; but it +strikes me that, under the circumstances, you should go first to--Mrs. +Carew, and take these." He tapped the papers before him. + +Jimmy drew his brows together and pondered. + +"All right, sir, I will." he agreed resignedly. + +"And if you don't mind, I'd like to go with you," further suggested +John Pendleton, a little diffidently. + +"I--I have a little matter of my own that I'd like to see--your aunt +about. Suppose we go down today on the three o'clock?" + +"Good! We will, sir. Gorry! And so I'm Jamie! I can't grasp it yet!" +exclaimed the young man, springing to his feet, and restlessly moving +about the room. "I wonder, now," he stopped, and colored boyishly, "do +you think--Aunt Ruth--will mind--very much?" + +John Pendleton shook his head. A hint of the old somberness came into +his eyes. + +"Hardly, my boy. But--I'm thinking of myself. How about it? When +you're her boy, where am I coming in?" + +"You! Do you think ANYTHING could put you one side?" scoffed Jimmy, +fervently. "You needn't worry about that. And SHE won't mind. She has +Jamie, you know, and--" He stopped short, a dawning dismay in his +eyes. "By George! Uncle John, I forgot--Jamie. This is going to be +tough on--Jamie!" + +"Yes, I'd thought of that. Still, he's legally adopted, isn't he?" + +"Oh, yes; it isn't that. It's the fact that he isn't the real Jamie +himself--and he with his two poor useless legs! Why, Uncle John, it'll +just about kill him. I've heard him talk. I know. Besides, Pollyanna +and Mrs. Carew both have told me how he feels, how SURE he is, and how +happy he is. Great Scott! I can't take away from him this--But what +CAN I do?" "I don't know, my boy. I don't see as there's anything you +can do, but what you are doing." + +There was a long silence. Jimmy had resumed his nervous pacing up and +down the room. Suddenly he wheeled, his face alight. + +"There IS a way, and I'll do it. I KNOW Mrs. Carew will agree. WE +WON'T TELL! We won't tell anybody but Mrs. Carew herself, and--and +Pollyanna and her aunt. I'll HAVE to tell them," he added defensively. + +"You certainly will, my boy. As for the rest--" John Pendleton paused +doubtfully. + +"It's nobody's business." + +"But, remember, you are making quite a sacrifice--in several ways. I +want you to weigh it well." + +"Weigh it? I have weighed it, and there's nothing in it--with Jamie on +the other side of the scales, sir. I just couldn't do it. That's all." + +"I don't blame you, and I think you're right," declared John Pendleton +heartily. "Furthermore, I believe Mrs. Carew will agree with you, +particularly as she'll KNOW now that the real Jamie is found at last." + +"You know she's always said she'd seen me somewhere," chuckled Jimmy. +"Now how soon does that train go? I'm ready." + +"Well, I'm not," laughed John Pendleton. "Luckily for me it doesn't go +for some hours yet, anyhow," he finished, as he got to his feet and +left the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +A NEW ALADDIN + + +Whatever were John Pendleton's preparations for departure--and they +were both varied and hurried--they were done in the open, with two +exceptions. The exceptions were two letters, one addressed to +Pollyanna, and one to Mrs. Polly Chilton. These letters, together with +careful and minute instructions, were given into the hands of Susan, +his housekeeper, to be delivered after they should be gone. But of all +this Jimmy knew nothing. + +The travelers were nearing Boston when John Pendleton said to Jimmy: + +"My boy, I've got one favor to ask--or rather, two. The first is that +we say nothing to Mrs. Carew until to-morrow afternoon; the other is +that you allow me to go first and be your--er--ambassador, you +yourself not appearing on the scene until perhaps, say--four o'clock. +Are you willing?" + +"Indeed I am," replied Jimmy, promptly; "not only willing, but +delighted. I'd been wondering how I was going to break the ice, and +I'm glad to have somebody else do it." + +"Good! Then I'll try to get--YOUR AUNT on the telephone to-morrow +morning and make my appointment." + +True to his promise, Jimmy did not appear at the Carew mansion until +four o'clock the next afternoon. Even then he felt suddenly so +embarrassed that he walked twice by the house before he summoned +sufficient courage to go up the steps and ring the bell. Once in Mrs. +Carew's presence, however, he was soon his natural self, so quickly +did she set him at his ease, and so tactfully did she handle the +situation. To be sure, at the very first, there were a few tears, and +a few incoherent exclamations. Even John Pendleton had to reach a +hasty hand for his handkerchief. But before very long a semblance of +normal tranquillity was restored, and only the tender glow in Mrs. +Carew's eyes, and the ecstatic happiness in Jimmy's and John +Pendleton's was left to mark the occasion as something out of the +ordinary. + +"And I think it's so fine of you--about Jamie!" exclaimed Mrs. Carew, +after a little. "Indeed, Jimmy--(I shall still call you Jimmy, for +obvious reasons; besides, I like it better, for you)--indeed I think +you're just right, if you're willing to do it. And I'm making some +sacrifice myself, too," she went on tearfully, "for I should be so +proud to introduce you to the world as my nephew." + +"And, indeed, Aunt Ruth, I--" At a half-stifled exclamation from John +Pendleton, Jimmy stopped short. He saw then that Jamie and Sadie Dean +stood just inside the door. Jamie's face was very white. + +"AUNT RUTH!" he exclaimed, looking from one to the other with startled +eyes. "AUNT RUTH! You don't mean--" + +All the blood receded from Mrs. Carew's face, and from Jimmy's, too. +John Pendleton, however, advanced jauntily. + +"Yes, Jamie; why not? I was going to tell you soon, anyway, so I'll +tell you now." (Jimmy gasped and stepped hastily forward, but John +Pendleton silenced him with a look.) "Just a little while ago Mrs. +Carew made me the happiest of men by saying yes to a certain question +I asked. Now, as Jimmy calls me 'Uncle John,' why shouldn't he begin +right away to call Mrs. Carew 'Aunt Ruth'?" + +"Oh! Oh-h!" exclaimed Jamie, in plain delight, while Jimmy, under John +Pendleton's steady gaze just managed to save the situation by not +blurting out HIS surprise and pleasure. Naturally, too, just then, +blushing Mrs. Carew became the center of every one's interest, and the +danger point was passed. Only Jimmy heard John Pendleton say low in +his ear, a bit later: + +"So you see, you young rascal, I'm not going to lose you, after all. +We shall BOTH have you now." + +Exclamations and congratulations were still at their height, when +Jamie, a new light in his eyes, turned without warning to Sadie Dean. + +"Sadie, I'm going to tell them now," he declared triumphantly. Then, +with the bright color in Sadie's face telling the tender story even +before Jamie's eager lips could frame the words, more congratulations +and exclamations were in order, and everybody was laughing and shaking +hands with everybody else. + +Jimmy, however, very soon began to eye them all aggrievedly, +longingly. + +"This is all very well for YOU," he complained then. "You each have +each other. But where do I come in? I can just tell you, though, that +if only a certain young lady I know were here, _I_ should have +something to tell YOU, perhaps." + +"Just a minute, Jimmy," interposed John Pendleton. "Let's play I was +Aladdin, and let me rub the lamp. Mrs. Carew, have I your permission +to ring for Mary?" + +"Why, y-yes, certainly," murmured that lady, in a puzzled surprise +that found its duplicate on the faces of the others. + +A few moments later Mary stood in the doorway. + +"Did I hear Miss Pollyanna come in a short time ago?" asked John +Pendleton. + +"Yes, sir. She is here." + +"Won't you ask her to come down, please." + +"Pollyanna here!" exclaimed an amazed chorus, as Mary disappeared. +Jimmy turned very white, then very red. + +"Yes. I sent a note to her yesterday by my housekeeper. I took the +liberty of asking her down for a few days to see you, Mrs. Carew. I +thought the little girl needed a rest and a holiday; and my +housekeeper has instructions to remain and care for Mrs. Chilton. I +also wrote a note to Mrs. Chilton herself," he added, turning suddenly +to Jimmy, with unmistakable meaning in his eyes. "And I thought after +she read what I said, that she'd let Pollyanna come. It seems she did, +for--here she is." + +And there she was in the doorway, blushing, starry-eyed, yet withal +just a bit shy and questioning. + +"Pollyanna, dearest!" It was Jimmy who sprang forward to meet her, and +who, without one minute's hesitation, took her in his arms and kissed +her. + +"Oh, Jimmy, before all these people!" breathed Pollyanna in +embarrassed protest. + +"Pooh! I should have kissed you then, Pollyanna, if you'd been +straight in the middle of--of Washington Street itself," vowed Jimmy. +"For that matter, look at--'all these people' and see for yourself if +you need to worry about them." + +And Pollyanna looked; and she saw: + +Over by one window, backs carefully turned, Jamie and Sadie Dean; over +by another window, backs also carefully turned, Mrs. Carew and John +Pendleton. + +Pollyanna smiled--so adorably that Jimmy kissed her again. + +"Oh, Jimmy, isn't it all beautiful and wonderful?" she murmured +softly. "And Aunt Polly--she knows everything now; and it's all right. +I think it would have been all right, anyway. She was beginning to +feel so bad--for me. Now she's so glad. And I am, too. Why, Jimmy, I'm +glad, GLAD, _GLAD_ for--everything, now!" + +[Illustration: "'I'm glad, GLAD, _GLAD_ for--everything now!'"] + +Jimmy caught his breath with a joy that hurt. + +"God grant, little girl, that always it may be so--with you," he +choked unsteadily, his arms holding her close. + +"I'm sure it will," sighed Pollyanna, with shining eyes of confidence. + + + + +THE END + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Pollyanna Grows Up, by Eleanor H. Porter + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POLLYANNA GROWS UP *** + +***** This file should be named 6100.txt or 6100.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/6/1/0/6100/ + +Produced by Paul Hollander, Juliet Sutherland, Charles +Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3497f3c --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #6100 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/6100) diff --git a/old/plgrp10.txt b/old/plgrp10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8b45193 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/plgrp10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9723 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Pollyanna Grows Up, by Eleanor H. Porter +#8 in our series by Eleanor H. Porter + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Pollyanna Grows Up + +Author: Eleanor H. Porter + +Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6100] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on November 6, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POLLYANNA GROWS UP *** + + + + +Produced by Paul Hollander, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + +POLLYANNA GROWS UP + + +The Second Glad Book + Trade----Mark + + +By Eleanor H. Porter + +Author of "Pollyanna: The Glad Book." "Miss Billy," + Trade----Mark +"Miss Billy's Decision," "Miss Billy--Married," +"Cross Currents," "The Turn of the Tide," etc. + + +Illustrated by + +H. Weston Taylor + + + + +To My Cousin Walter + + + + +CONTENTS + +I. Della Speaks Her Mind +II. Some Old Friends +III. A Dose Of Pollyanna +IV. The Game And Mrs. Carew +V. Pollyanna Takes A Walk +VI. Jerry To The Rescue +VII. A New Acquaintance +VIII. Jamie +IX. Plans And Plottings +X. In Murphy's Alley +XI. A Surprise For Mrs. Carew +XII. From Behind A Counter +XIII. A Waiting And A Winning +XIV. Jimmy And The Green-Eyed Monster +XV. Aunt Polly Takes Alarm +XVI. When Pollyanna Was Expected +XVII. When Pollyanna Came +XVIII. A Matter Of Adjustment +XIX. Two Letters +XX. The Paying Guests +XXI. Summer Days +XXII. Comrades +XXIII. "Tied To Two Sticks" +XXIV. Jimmy Wakes Up +XXV. The Game And Pollyanna +XXVI. John Pendleton +XXVII. The Day Pollyanna Did Not Play +XXVIII. Jimmy And Jamie +XXIX. Jimmy And John +XXX. John Pendleton Turns The Key +XXXI. After Long Years +XXXII. A New Aladdin + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + +"Jimmy looked down at the wistful, eager face" +"'Oh, my! What a perfectly lovely automobile!'" +"Twice again, after short intervals, she trod the fascinating way" +"It was a wonderful hour" +"'I don't know her name yet, but I know HER, so it's all right'" +"'The instrument that you play on, Pollyanna, will be the great + heart of the world'" +"Involuntarily she turned as if to flee" +"'I'm glad, GLAD, _GLAD_ for--everything now!'" + + + + + +CHAPTER I + +DELLA SPEAKS HER MIND + + +Della Wetherby tripped up the somewhat imposing steps of her sister's +Commonwealth Avenue home and pressed an energetic finger against the +electric-bell button. From the tip of her wing-trimmed hat to the toe +of her low-heeled shoe she radiated health, capability, and alert +decision. Even her voice, as she greeted the maid that opened the +door, vibrated with the joy of living. + +"Good morning, Mary. Is my sister in?" + +"Y-yes, ma'am, Mrs. Carew is in," hesitated the girl; "but--she gave +orders she'd see no one." + +"Did she? Well, I'm no one," smiled Miss Wetherby, "so she'll see me. +Don't worry--I'll take the blame," she nodded, in answer to the +frightened remonstrance in the girl's eyes. "Where is she--in her +sitting-room?" + +"Y-yes, ma'am; but--that is, she said--" Miss Wetherby, however, was +already halfway up the broad stairway; and, with a despairing backward +glance, the maid turned away. + +In the hall above Della Wetherby unhesitatingly walked toward a +half-open door, and knocked. + +"Well, Mary," answered a "dear-me-what-now" voice. "Haven't I--Oh, +Della!" The voice grew suddenly warm with love and surprise. "You dear +girl, where did you come from?" + +"Yes, it's Della," smiled that young woman, blithely, already halfway +across the room. "I've come from an over-Sunday at the beach with two +of the other nurses, and I'm on my way back to the Sanatorium now. +That is, I'm here now, but I sha'n't be long. I stepped in for--this," +she finished, giving the owner of the "dear-me-what-now" voice a +hearty kiss. + +Mrs. Carew frowned and drew back a little coldly. The slight touch of +joy and animation that had come into her face fled, leaving only a +dispirited fretfulness that was plainly very much at home there. + +"Oh, of course! I might have known," she said. "You never stay--here." + +"Here!" Della Wetherby laughed merrily, and threw up her hands; then, +abruptly, her voice and manner changed. She regarded her sister with +grave, tender eyes. "Ruth, dear, I couldn't--I just couldn't live in +this house. You know I couldn't," she finished gently. + +Mrs. Carew stirred irritably. + +"I'm sure I don't see why not," she fenced. + +Della Wetherby shook her head. + +"Yes, you do, dear. You know I'm entirely out of sympathy with it all: +the gloom, the lack of aim, the insistence on misery and bitterness." + +"But I AM miserable and bitter." + +"You ought not to be." + +"Why not? What have I to make me otherwise?" + +Della Wetherby gave an impatient gesture. + +"Ruth, look here," she challenged. "You're thirty-three years old. You +have good health--or would have, if you treated yourself properly--and +you certainly have an abundance of time and a superabundance of money. +Surely anybody would say you ought to find SOMETHING to do this +glorious morning besides sitting moped up in this tomb-like house with +instructions to the maid that you'll see no one." + +"But I don't WANT to see anybody." + +"Then I'd MAKE myself want to." + +Mrs. Carew sighed wearily and turned away her head. + +"Oh, Della, why won't you ever understand? I'm not like you. I +can't--forget." + +A swift pain crossed the younger woman's face. + +"You mean--Jamie, I suppose. I don't forget--that, dear. I couldn't, +of course. But moping won't help us--find him." + +"As if I hadn't TRIED to find him, for eight long years--and by +something besides moping," flashed Mrs. Carew, indignantly, with a sob +in her voice. + +"Of course you have, dear," soothed the other, quickly; "and we shall +keep on hunting, both of us, till we do find him--or die. But THIS +sort of thing doesn't help." + +"But I don't want to do--anything else," murmured Ruth Carew, +drearily. + +For a moment there was silence. The younger woman sat regarding her +sister with troubled, disapproving eyes. + +"Ruth," she said, at last, with a touch of exasperation, "forgive me, +but--are you always going to be like this? You're widowed, I'll admit; +but your married life lasted only a year, and your husband was much +older than yourself. You were little more than a child at the time, +and that one short year can't seem much more than a dream now. Surely +that ought not to embitter your whole life!" + +"No, oh, no," murmured Mrs. Carew, still drearily. + +"Then ARE you going to be always like this?" + +"Well, of course, if I could find Jamie--" + +"Yes, yes, I know; but, Ruth, dear, isn't there anything in the world +but Jamie--to make you ANY happy?" + +"There doesn't seem to be, that I can think of," sighed Mrs. Carew, +indifferently. + +"Ruth!" ejaculated her sister, stung into something very like anger. +Then suddenly she laughed. "Oh, Ruth, Ruth, I'd like to give you a +dose of Pollyanna. I don't know any one who needs it more!" + +Mrs. Carew stiffened a little. + +"Well, what pollyanna may be I don't know, but whatever it is, I don't +want it," she retorted sharply, nettled in her turn. "This isn't your +beloved Sanatorium, and I'm not your patient to be dosed and bossed, +please remember." + +Della Wetherby's eyes danced, but her lips remained unsmiling. + +"Pollyanna isn't a medicine, my dear," she said demurely, "--though I +have heard some people call her a tonic. Pollyanna is a little girl." + +"A child? Well, how should I know," retorted the other, still +aggrievedly. "You have your 'belladonna,' so I'm sure I don't see why +not 'pollyanna.' Besides, you're always recommending something for me +to take, and you distinctly said 'dose'--and dose usually means +medicine, of a sort." + +"Well, Pollyanna IS a medicine--of a sort," smiled Della. "Anyway, the +Sanatorium doctors all declare that she's better than any medicine +they can give. She's a little girl, Ruth, twelve or thirteen years +old, who was at the Sanatorium all last summer and most of the winter. +I didn't see her but a month or two, for she left soon after I +arrived. But that was long enough for me to come fully under her +spell. Besides, the whole Sanatorium is still talking Pollyanna, and +playing her game." + +"GAME!" + +"Yes," nodded Della, with a curious smile. "Her 'glad game.' I'll +never forget my first introduction to it. One feature of her treatment +was particularly disagreeable and even painful. It came every Tuesday +morning, and very soon after my arrival it fell to my lot to give it +to her. I was dreading it, for I knew from past experience with other +children what to expect: fretfulness and tears, if nothing worse. To +my unbounded amazement she greeted me with a smile and said she was +glad to see me; and, if you'll believe it, there was never so much as +a whimper from her lips through the whole ordeal, though I knew I was +hurting her cruelly. + +"I fancy I must have said something that showed my surprise, for she +explained earnestly: 'Oh, yes, I used to feel that way, too, and I did +dread it so, till I happened to think 'twas just like Nancy's +wash-days, and I could be gladdest of all on TUESDAYS, 'cause there +wouldn't be another one for a whole week.'" + +"Why, how extraordinary!" frowned Mrs. Carew, not quite comprehending. +"But, I'm sure I don't see any GAME to that." + +"No, I didn't, till later. Then she told me. It seems she was the +motherless daughter of a poor minister in the West, and was brought up +by the Ladies' Aid Society and missionary barrels. When she was a tiny +girl she wanted a doll, and confidently expected it in the next +barrel; but there turned out to be nothing but a pair of little +crutches. + +"The child cried, of course, and it was then that her father taught +her the game of hunting for something to be glad about, in everything +that happened; and he said she could begin right then by being glad +she didn't NEED the crutches. That was the beginning. Pollyanna said +it was a lovely game, and she'd been playing it ever since; and that +the harder it was to find the glad part, the more fun it was, only +when it was too AWFUL hard, like she had found it sometimes." + +"Why, how extraordinary!" murmured Mrs. Carew, still not entirely +comprehending. + +"You'd think so--if you could see the results of that game in the +Sanatorium," nodded Della; "and Dr. Ames says he hears she's +revolutionized the whole town where she came from, just the same way. +He knows Dr. Chilton very well--the man that married Pollyanna's aunt. +And, by the way, I believe that marriage was one of her ministrations. +She patched up an old lovers' quarrel between them. + +"You see, two years ago, or more, Pollyanna's father died, and the +little girl was sent East to this aunt. In October she was hurt by an +automobile, and was told she could never walk again. In April Dr. +Chilton sent her to the Sanatorium, and she was there till last +March--almost a year. She went home practically cured. You should have +seen the child! There was just one cloud to mar her happiness: that +she couldn't WALK all the way there. As near as I can gather, the +whole town turned out to meet her with brass bands and banners. + +"But you can't TELL about Pollyanna. One has to SEE her. And that's +why I say I wish you could have a dose of Pollyanna. It would do you a +world of good." + +Mrs. Carew lifted her chin a little. + +"Really, indeed, I must say I beg to differ with you," she returned +coldly. "I don't care to be 'revolutionized,' and I have no lovers' +quarrel to be patched up; and if there is ANYTHING that would be +insufferable to me, it would be a little Miss Prim with a long face +preaching to me how much I had to be thankful for. I never could +bear--" But a ringing laugh interrupted her. + +"Oh, Ruth, Ruth," choked her sister, gleefully. "Miss Prim, +indeed--POLLYANNA! Oh, oh, if only you could see that child now! But +there, I might have known. I SAID one couldn't TELL about Pollyanna. +And of course you won't be apt to see her. But--Miss Prim, indeed!" +And off she went into another gale of laughter. Almost at once, +however, she sobered and gazed at her sister with the old troubled +look in her eyes. + +"Seriously, dear, can't anything be done?" she pleaded. "You ought not +to waste your life like this. Won't you try to get out a little more, +and--meet people?" + +"Why should I, when I don't want to? I'm tired of--people. You know +society always bored me." + +"Then why not try some sort of work--charity?" + +Mrs. Carew gave an impatient gesture. + +"Della, dear, we've been all over this before. I do give money--lots +of it, and that's enough. In fact, I'm not sure but it's too much. I +don't believe in pauperizing people." + +"But if you'd give a little of yourself, dear," ventured Della, +gently. "If you could only get interested in something outside of your +own life, it would help so much; and--" + +"Now, Della, dear," interrupted the elder sister, restively, "I love +you, and I love to have you come here; but I simply cannot endure +being preached to. It's all very well for you to turn yourself into an +angel of mercy and give cups of cold water, and bandage up broken +heads, and all that. Perhaps YOU can forget Jamie that way; but I +couldn't. It would only make me think of him all the more, wondering +if HE had any one to give him water and bandage up his head. Besides, +the whole thing would be very distasteful to me--mixing with all sorts +and kinds of people like that." + +"Did you ever try it?" + +"Why, no, of course not!" Mrs. Carew's voice was scornfully indignant. + +"Then how can you know--till you do try?" asked the young nurse, +rising to her feet a little wearily. "But I must go, dear. I'm to meet +the girls at the South Station. Our train goes at twelve-thirty. I'm +sorry if I've made you cross with me," she finished, as she kissed her +sister good-by. + +"I'm not cross with you, Della," sighed Mrs. Carew; "but if you only +would understand!" + +One minute later Della Wetherby made her way through the silent, +gloomy halls, and out to the street. Face, step, and manner were very +different from what they had been when she tripped up the steps less +than half an hour before. All the alertness, the springiness, the joy +of living were gone. For half a block she listlessly dragged one foot +after the other. Then, suddenly, she threw back her head and drew a +long breath. + +"One week in that house would kill me," she shuddered. "I don't +believe even Pollyanna herself could so much as make a dent in the +gloom! And the only thing she could be glad for there would be that +she didn't have to stay." + +That this avowed disbelief in Pollyanna's ability to bring about a +change for the better in Mrs. Carew's home was not Della Wetherby's +real opinion, however, was quickly proved; for no sooner had the nurse +reached the Sanatorium than she learned something that sent her flying +back over the fifty-mile journey to Boston the very next day. + +So exactly as before did she find circumstances at her sister's home +that it seemed almost as if Mrs. Carew had not moved since she left +her. + +"Ruth," she burst out eagerly, after answering her sister's surprised +greeting, "I just HAD to come, and you must, this once, yield to me +and let me have my way. Listen! You can have that little Pollyanna +here, I think, if you will." + +"But I won't," returned Mrs. Carew, with chilly promptness. + +Della Wetherby did not seem to have heard. She plunged on excitedly. + +"When I got back yesterday I found that Dr. Ames had had a letter from +Dr. Chilton, the one who married Pollyanna's aunt, you know. Well, it +seems in it he said he was going to Germany for the winter for a +special course, and was going to take his wife with him, if he could +persuade her that Pollyanna would be all right in some boarding school +here meantime. But Mrs. Chilton didn't want to leave Pollyanna in just +a school, and so he was afraid she wouldn't go. And now, Ruth, there's +our chance. I want YOU to take Pollyanna this winter, and let her go +to some school around here." + +"What an absurd idea, Della! As if I wanted a child here to bother +with!" + +"She won't bother a bit. She must be nearly or quite thirteen by this +time, and she's the most capable little thing you ever saw." + +"I don't like 'capable' children," retorted Mrs. Carew perversely--but +she laughed; and because she did laugh, her sister took sudden courage +and redoubled her efforts. + +Perhaps it was the suddenness of the appeal, or the novelty of it. +Perhaps it was because the story of Pollyanna had somehow touched Ruth +Carew's heart. Perhaps it was only her unwillingness to refuse her +sister's impassioned plea. Whatever it was that finally turned the +scale, when Della Wetherby took her hurried leave half an hour later, +she carried with her Ruth Carew's promise to receive Pollyanna into +her home. + +"But just remember," Mrs. Carew warned her at parting, "just remember +that the minute that child begins to preach to me and to tell me to +count my mercies, back she goes to you, and you may do what you please +with her. _I_ sha'n't keep her!" + +"I'll remember--but I'm not worrying any," nodded the younger woman, +in farewell. To herself she whispered, as she hurried away from the +house: "Half my job is done. Now for the other half--to get Pollyanna +to come. But she's just got to come. I'll write that letter so they +can't help letting her come!" + + + + +CHAPTER II + +SOME OLD FRIENDS + + +In Beldingsville that August day, Mrs. Chilton waited until Pollyanna +had gone to bed before she spoke to her husband about the letter that +had come in the morning mail. For that matter, she would have had to +wait, anyway, for crowded office hours, and the doctor's two long +drives over the hills had left no time for domestic conferences. + +It was about half-past nine, indeed, when the doctor entered his +wife's sitting-room. His tired face lighted at sight of her, but at +once a perplexed questioning came to his eyes. + +"Why, Polly, dear, what is it?" he asked concernedly. + +His wife gave a rueful laugh. + +"Well, it's a letter--though I didn't mean you should find out by just +looking at me." + +"Then you mustn't look so I can," he smiled. "But what is it?" + +Mrs. Chilton hesitated, pursed her lips, then picked up a letter near +her. + +"I'll read it to you," she said. "It's from a Miss Della Wetherby at +Dr. Ames' Sanatorium." + +"All right. Fire away," directed the man, throwing himself at full +length on to the couch near his wife's chair. + +But his wife did not at once "fire away." She got up first and covered +her husband's recumbent figure with a gray worsted afghan. Mrs. +Chilton's wedding day was but a year behind her. She was forty-two +now. It seemed sometimes as if into that one short year of wifehood +she had tried to crowd all the loving service and "babying" that had +been accumulating through twenty years of lovelessness and loneliness. +Nor did the doctor--who had been forty-five on his wedding day, and +who could remember nothing but loneliness and lovelessness--on his +part object in the least to this concentrated "tending." He acted, +indeed, as if he quite enjoyed it--though he was careful not to show +it too ardently: he had discovered that Mrs. Polly had for so long +been Miss Polly that she was inclined to retreat in a panic and dub +her ministrations "silly," if they were received with too much notice +and eagerness. So he contented himself now with a mere pat of her hand +as she gave the afghan a final smooth, and settled herself to read the +letter aloud. + +"My dear Mrs. Chilton," Della Wetherby had written. "Just six times I +have commenced a letter to you, and torn it up; so now I have decided +not to 'commence' at all, but just to tell you what I want at once. I +want Pollyanna. May I have her? + +"I met you and your husband last March when you came on to take +Pollyanna home, but I presume you don't remember me. I am asking Dr. +Ames (who does know me very well) to write your husband, so that you +may (I hope) not fear to trust your dear little niece to us. + +"I understand that you would go to Germany with your husband but for +leaving Pollyanna; and so I am making so bold as to ask you to let us +take her. Indeed, I am begging you to let us have her, dear Mrs. +Chilton. And now let me tell you why. + +"My sister, Mrs. Carew, is a lonely, broken-hearted, discontented, +unhappy woman. She lives in a world of gloom, into which no sunshine +penetrates. Now I believe that if anything on earth can bring the +sunshine into her life, it is your niece, Pollyanna. Won't you let her +try? I wish I could tell you what she has done for the Sanatorium +here, but nobody could TELL. You would have to see it. I long ago +discovered that you can't TELL about Pollyanna. The minute you try to, +she sounds priggish and preachy, and--impossible. Yet you and I know +she is anything but that. You just have to bring Pollyanna on to the +scene and let her speak for herself. And so I want to take her to my +sister--and let her speak for herself. She would attend school, of +course, but meanwhile I truly believe she would be healing the wound +in my sister's heart. + +"I don't know how to end this letter. I believe it's harder than it +was to begin it. I'm afraid I don't want to end it at all. I just want +to keep talking and talking, for fear, if I stop, it'll give you a +chance to say no. And so, if you ARE tempted to say that dreadful +word, won't you please consider that--that I'm still talking, and +telling you how much we want and need Pollyanna. + + "Hopefully yours, + + "DELLA WETHERBY." + +"There!" ejaculated Mrs. Chilton, as she laid the letter down. "Did +you ever read such a remarkable letter, or hear of a more +preposterous, absurd request?" + +"Well, I'm not so sure," smiled the doctor. "I don't think it's absurd +to want Pollyanna." + +"But--but the way she puts it--healing the wound in her sister's +heart, and all that. One would think the child was some sort of--of +medicine!" + +The doctor laughed outright, and raised his eyebrows. + +"Well, I'm not so sure but she is, Polly. I ALWAYS said I wished I +could prescribe her and buy her as I would a box of pills; and Charlie +Ames says they always made it a point at the Sanatorium to give their +patients a dose of Pollyanna as soon as possible after their arrival, +during the whole year she was there." + +"'Dose,' indeed!" scorned Mrs. Chilton. + +"Then--you don't think you'll let her go?" + +"Go? Why, of course not! Do you think I'd let that child go to perfect +strangers like that?--and such strangers! Why, Thomas, I should expect +that that nurse would have her all bottled and labeled with full +directions on the outside how to take her, by the time I'd got back +from Germany." + +Again the doctor threw back his head and laughed heartily, but only +for a moment. His face changed perceptibly as he reached into his +pocket for a letter. + +"I heard from Dr. Ames myself, this morning," he said, with an odd +something in his voice that brought a puzzled frown to his wife's +brow. "Suppose I read you my letter now." + +"Dear Tom," he began. "Miss Della Wetherby has asked me to give her +and her sister a 'character,' which I am very glad to do. I have known +the Wetherby girls from babyhood. They come from a fine old family, +and are thoroughbred gentlewomen. You need not fear on that score. + +"There were three sisters, Doris, Ruth, and Della. Doris married a man +named John Kent, much against the family's wishes. Kent came from good +stock, but was not much himself, I guess, and was certainly a very +eccentric, disagreeable man to deal with. He was bitterly angry at the +Wetherbys' attitude toward him, and there was little communication +between the families until the baby came. The Wetherbys worshiped the +little boy, James--'Jamie,' as they called him. Doris, the mother, +died when the boy was four years old, and the Wetherbys were making +every effort to get the father to give the child entirely up to them, +when suddenly Kent disappeared, taking the boy with him. He has never +been heard from since, though a world-wide search has been made. + +"The loss practically killed old Mr. and Mrs. Wetherby. They both died +soon after. Ruth was already married and widowed. Her husband was a +man named Carew, very wealthy, and much older than herself. He lived +but a year or so after marriage, and left her with a young son who +also died within a year. + +"From the time little Jamie disappeared, Ruth and Della seemed to have +but one object in life, and that was to find him. They have spent +money like water, and have all but moved heaven and earth; but without +avail. In time Della took up nursing. She is doing splendid work, and +has become the cheerful, efficient, sane woman that she was meant to +be--though still never forgetting her lost nephew, and never leaving +unfollowed any possible clew that might lead to his discovery. + +"But with Mrs. Carew it is quite different. After losing her own boy, +she seemed to concentrate all her thwarted mother-love on her sister's +son. As you can imagine, she was frantic when he disappeared. That was +eight years ago--for her, eight long years of misery, gloom, and +bitterness. Everything that money can buy, of course, is at her +command; but nothing pleases her, nothing interests her. Della feels +that the time has come when she must be gotten out of herself, at all +hazards; and Della believes that your wife's sunny little niece, +Pollyanna, possesses the magic key that will unlock the door to a new +existence for her. Such being the case, I hope you will see your way +clear to granting her request. And may I add that I, too, personally, +would appreciate the favor; for Ruth Carew and her sister are very +old, dear friends of my wife and myself; and what touches them touches +us. As ever yours, CHARLIE." + +The letter finished, there was a long silence, so long a silence that +the doctor uttered a quiet, "Well, Polly?" + +Still there was silence. The doctor, watching his wife's face closely, +saw that the usually firm lips and chin were trembling. He waited then +quietly until his wife spoke. + +"How soon--do you think--they'll expect her?" she asked at last. + +In spite of himself Dr. Chilton gave a slight start. + +"You--mean--that you WILL let her go?" he cried. + +His wife turned indignantly. + +"Why, Thomas Chilton, what a question! Do you suppose, after a letter +like that, I could do anything BUT let her go? Besides, didn't Dr. +Ames HIMSELF ask us to? Do you think, after what that man has done for +Pollyanna, that I'd refuse him ANYTHING--no matter what it was?" + +"Dear, dear! I hope, now, that the doctor won't take it into his head +to ask for--for YOU, my love," murmured the husband-of-a-year, with a +whimsical smile. But his wife only gave him a deservedly scornful +glance, and said: + +"You may write Dr. Ames that we'll send Pollyanna; and ask him to tell +Miss Wetherby to give us full instructions. It must be sometime before +the tenth of next month, of course, for you sail then; and I want to +see the child properly established myself before I leave, naturally." + +"When will you tell Pollyanna?" + +"To-morrow, probably." + +"What will you tell her?" + +"I don't know--exactly; but not any more than I can't help, certainly. +Whatever happens, Thomas, we don't want to spoil Pollyanna; and no +child could help being spoiled if she once got it into her head that +she was a sort of--of--" + +"Of medicine bottle with a label of full instructions for taking?" +interpolated the doctor, with a smile. + +"Yes," sighed Mrs. Chilton. "It's her unconsciousness that saves the +whole thing. YOU know that, dear." + +"Yes, I know," nodded the man. + +"She knows, of course, that you and I, and half the town are playing +the game with her, and that we--we are wonderfully happier because we +ARE playing it." Mrs. Chilton's voice shook a little, then went on +more steadily." But if, consciously, she should begin to be anything +but her own natural, sunny, happy little self, playing the game that +her father taught her, she would be--just what that nurse said she +sounded like--'impossible.' So, whatever I tell her, I sha'n't tell +her that she's going down to Mrs. Carew's to cheer her up," concluded +Mrs. Chilton, rising to her feet with decision, and putting away her +work. + +"Which is where I think you're wise," approved the doctor. + +Pollyanna was told the next day; and this was the manner of it. + +"My dear," began her aunt, when the two were alone together that +morning, "how would you like to spend next winter in Boston?" + +"With you?" + +"No; I have decided to go with your uncle to Germany. But Mrs. Carew, +a dear friend of Dr. Ames, has asked you to come and stay with her for +the winter, and I think I shall let you go." + +Pollyanna's face fell. + +"But in Boston I won't have Jimmy, or Mr. Pendleton, or Mrs. Snow, or +anybody that I know, Aunt Polly." + +"No, dear; but you didn't have them when you came here--till you found +them." + +Pollyanna gave a sudden smile. + +"Why, Aunt Polly, so I didn't! And that means that down to Boston +there are some Jimmys and Mr. Pendletons and Mrs. Snows waiting for me +that I don't know, doesn't it?" + +"Yes, dear." + +"Then I can be glad of that. I believe now, Aunt Polly, you know how +to play the game better than I do. I never thought of the folks down +there waiting for me to know them. And there's such a lot of 'em, too! +I saw some of them when I was there two years ago with Mrs. Gray. We +were there two whole hours, you know, on my way here from out West. + +"There was a man in the station--a perfectly lovely man who told me +where to get a drink of water. Do you suppose he's there now? I'd like +to know him. And there was a nice lady with a little girl. They live +in Boston. They said they did. The little girl's name was Susie Smith. +Perhaps I could get to know them. Do you suppose I could? And there +was a boy, and another lady with a baby--only they lived in Honolulu, +so probably I couldn't find them there now. But there'd be Mrs. Carew, +anyway. Who is Mrs. Carew, Aunt Polly? Is she a relation?" + +"Dear me, Pollyanna!" exclaimed Mrs. Chilton, half-laughingly, +half-despairingly. "How do you expect anybody to keep up with your +tongue, much less your thoughts, when they skip to Honolulu and back +again in two seconds! No, Mrs. Carew isn't any relation to us. She's +Miss Della Wetherby's sister. Do you remember Miss Wetherby at the +Sanatorium?" + +Pollyanna clapped her hands. + +"HER sister? Miss Wetherby's sister? Oh, then she'll be lovely, I +know. Miss Wetherby was. I loved Miss Wetherby. She had little +smile-wrinkles all around her eyes and mouth, and she knew the NICEST +stories. I only had her two months, though, because she only got there +a little while before I came away. At first I was sorry that I hadn't +had her ALL the time, but afterwards I was glad; for you see if I HAD +had her all the time, it would have been harder to say good-by than +'twas when I'd only had her a little while. And now it'll seem as if I +had her again, 'cause I'm going to have her sister." + +Mrs. Chilton drew in her breath and bit her lip. + +"But, Pollyanna, dear, you must not expect that they'll be quite +alike," she ventured. + +"Why, they're SISTERS, Aunt Polly," argued the little girl, her eyes +widening; "and I thought sisters were always alike. We had two sets of +'em in the Ladies' Aiders. One set was twins, and THEY were so alike +you couldn't tell which was Mrs. Peck and which was Mrs. Jones, until +a wart grew on Mrs. Jones's nose, then of course we could, because we +looked for the wart the first thing. And that's what I told her one +day when she was complaining that people called her Mrs. Peck, and I +said if they'd only look for the wart as I did, they'd know right off. +But she acted real cross--I mean displeased, and I'm afraid she didn't +like it--though I don't see why; for I should have thought she'd been +glad there was something they could be told apart by, 'specially as +she was the president, and didn't like it when folks didn't ACT as if +she was the president--best seats and introductions and special +attentions at church suppers, you know. But she didn't, and afterwards +I heard Mrs. White tell Mrs. Rawson that Mrs. Jones had done +everything she could think of to get rid of that wart, even to trying +to put salt on a bird's tail. But I don't see how THAT could do any +good. Aunt Polly, DOES putting salt on a bird's tail help the warts on +people's noses?" + +"Of course not, child! How you do run on, Pollyanna, especially if you +get started on those Ladies' Aiders!" + +"Do I, Aunt Polly?" asked the little girl, ruefully. "And does it +plague you? I don't mean to plague you, honestly, Aunt Polly. And, +anyway, if I do plague you about those Ladies' Aiders, you can be kind +o' glad, for if I'm thinking of the Aiders, I'm sure to be thinking +how glad I am that I don't belong to them any longer, but have got an +aunt all my own. You can be glad of that, can't you, Aunt Polly?" + +"Yes, yes, dear, of course I can, of course I can," laughed Mrs. +Chilton, rising to leave the room, and feeling suddenly very guilty +that she was conscious sometimes of a little of her old irritation +against Pollyanna's perpetual gladness. + +During the next few days, while letters concerning Pollyanna's winter +stay in Boston were flying back and forth, Pollyanna herself was +preparing for that stay by a series of farewell visits to her +Beldingsville friends. + +Everybody in the little Vermont village knew Pollyanna now, and almost +everybody was playing the game with her. The few who were not, were +not refraining because of ignorance of what the glad game was. So to +one house after another Pollyanna carried the news now that she was +going down to Boston to spend the winter; and loudly rose the clamor +of regret and remonstrance, all the way from Nancy in Aunt Polly's own +kitchen to the great house on the hill where lived John Pendleton. + +Nancy did not hesitate to say--to every one except her mistress--that +SHE considered this Boston trip all foolishness, and that for her part +she would have been glad to take Miss Pollyanna home with her to the +Corners, she would, she would; and then Mrs. Polly could have gone to +Germany all she wanted to. + +On the hill John Pendleton said practically the same thing, only he +did not hesitate to say it to Mrs. Chilton herself. As for Jimmy, the +twelve-year-old boy whom John Pendleton had taken into his home +because Pollyanna wanted him to, and whom he had now adopted--because +he wanted to himself--as for Jimmy, Jimmy was indignant, and he was +not slow to show it. + +"But you've just come," he reproached Pollyanna, in the tone of voice +a small boy is apt to use when he wants to hide the fact that he has a +heart. + +"Why, I've been here ever since the last of March. Besides, it isn't +as if I was going to stay. It's only for this winter." + +"I don't care. You've just been away for a whole year, 'most, and if +I'd s'posed you was going away again right off, the first thing, I +wouldn't have helped one mite to meet you with flags and bands and +things, that day you come from the Sanatorium." + +"Why, Jimmy Bean!" ejaculated Pollyanna, in amazed disapproval. Then, +with a touch of superiority born of hurt pride, she observed: "I'm +sure I didn't ASK you to meet me with bands and things--and you made +two mistakes in that sentence. You shouldn't say 'you was'; and I +think 'you come' is wrong. It doesn't sound right, anyway." + +"Well, who cares if I did?" + +Pollyanna's eyes grew still more disapproving. + +"You SAID you did--when you asked me this summer to tell you when you +said things wrong, because Mr. Pendleton was trying to make you talk +right." + +"Well, if you'd been brought up in a 'sylum without any folks that +cared, instead of by a whole lot of old women who didn't have anything +to do but tell you how to talk right, maybe you'd say 'you was,' and a +whole lot more worse things, Pollyanna Whittier!" + +"Why, Jimmy Bean!" flared Pollyanna. "My Ladies' Aiders weren't old +women--that is, not many of them, so very old," she corrected hastily, +her usual proclivity for truth and literalness superseding her anger; +"and--" + +"Well, I'm not Jimmy Bean, either," interrupted the boy, uptilting his +chin. + +"You're--not-- Why, Jimmy Be-- --What do you mean?" demanded the little +girl. + +"I've been adopted, LEGALLY. He's been intending to do it, all along, +he says, only he didn't get to it. Now he's done it. I'm to be called +'Jimmy Pendleton' and I'm to call him Uncle John, only I ain't--are +not--I mean, I AM not used to it yet, so I hain't--haven't begun to +call him that, much." + +The boy still spoke crossly, aggrievedly, but every trace of +displeasure had fled from the little girl's face at his words. She +clapped her hands joyfully. + +"Oh, how splendid! Now you've really got FOLKS--folks that care, you +know. And you won't ever have to explain that he wasn't BORN your +folks, 'cause your name's the same now. I'm so glad, GLAD, GLAD!" + +The boy got up suddenly from the stone wall where they had been +sitting, and walked off. His cheeks felt hot, and his eyes smarted +with tears. It was to Pollyanna that he owed it all--this great good +that had come to him; and he knew it. And it was to Pollyanna that he +had just now been saying-- + +He kicked a small stone fiercely, then another, and another. He +thought those hot tears in his eyes were going to spill over and roll +down his cheeks in spite of himself. He kicked another stone, then +another; then he picked up a third stone and threw it with all his +might. A minute later he strolled back to Pollyanna still sitting on +the stone wall. + +"I bet you I can hit that pine tree down there before you can," he +challenged airily. + +"Bet you can't," cried Pollyanna, scrambling down from her perch. + +The race was not run after all, for Pollyanna remembered just in time +that running fast was yet one of the forbidden luxuries for her. But +so far as Jimmy was concerned, it did not matter. His cheeks were no +longer hot, his eyes were not threatening to overflow with tears. +Jimmy was himself again. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +A DOSE OF POLLYANNA + + +As the eighth of September approached--the day Pollyanna was to +arrive--Mrs. Ruth Carew became more and more nervously exasperated +with herself. She declared that she had regretted just ONCE her +promise to take the child--and that was ever since she had given it. +Before twenty-four hours had passed she had, indeed, written to her +sister demanding that she be released from the agreement; but Della +had answered that it was quite too late, as already both she and Dr. +Ames had written the Chiltons. + +Soon after that had come Della's letter saying that Mrs. Chilton had +given her consent, and would in a few days come to Boston to make +arrangements as to school, and the like. So there was nothing to be +done, naturally, but to let matters take their course. Mrs. Carew +realized that, and submitted to the inevitable, but with poor grace. +True, she tried to be decently civil when Della and Mrs. Chilton made +their expected appearance; but she was very glad that limited time +made Mrs. Chilton's stay of very short duration, and full to the brim +of business. + +It was well, indeed, perhaps, that Pollyanna's arrival was to be at a +date no later than the eighth; for time, instead of reconciling Mrs. +Carew to the prospective new member of her household, was filling her +with angry impatience at what she was pleased to call her "absurd +yielding to Della's crazy scheme." + +Nor was Della herself in the least unaware of her sister's state of +mind. If outwardly she maintained a bold front, inwardly she was very +fearful as to results; but on Pollyanna she was pinning her faith, and +because she did pin her faith on Pollyanna, she determined on the bold +stroke of leaving the little girl to begin her fight entirely unaided +and alone. She contrived, therefore, that Mrs. Carew should meet them +at the station upon their arrival; then, as soon as greetings and +introductions were over, she hurriedly pleaded a previous engagement +and took herself off. Mrs. Carew, therefore, had scarcely time to look +at her new charge before she found herself alone with the child. + +"Oh, but Della, Della, you mustn't--I can't--" she called agitatedly, +after the retreating figure of the nurse. + +But Della, if she heard, did not heed; and, plainly annoyed and vexed, +Mrs. Carew turned back to the child at her side. + +"What a shame! She didn't hear, did she?" Pollyanna was saying, her +eyes, also, wistfully following the nurse. "And I didn't WANT her to +go now a bit. But then, I've got you, haven't I? I can be glad for +that." + +"Oh, yes, you've got me--and I've got you," returned the lady, not +very graciously. "Come, we go this way," she directed, with a motion +toward the right. + +Obediently Pollyanna turned and trotted at Mrs. Carew's side, through +the huge station; but she looked up once or twice rather anxiously +into the lady's unsmiling face. At last she spoke hesitatingly. + +"I expect maybe you thought--I'd be pretty," she hazarded, in a +troubled voice. + +"P--pretty?" repeated Mrs. Carew. + +"Yes--with curls, you know, and all that. And of course you did wonder +how I DID look, just as I did you. Only I KNEW you'd be pretty and +nice, on account of your sister. I had her to go by, and you didn't +have anybody. And of course I'm not pretty, on account of the +freckles, and it ISN'T nice when you've been expecting a PRETTY little +girl, to have one come like me; and--" + +"Nonsense, child!" interrupted Mrs. Carew, a trifle sharply. "Come, +we'll see to your trunk now, then we'll go home. I had hoped that my +sister would come with us; but it seems she didn't see fit--even for +this one night." + +Pollyanna smiled and nodded. + +"I know; but she couldn't, probably. Somebody wanted her, I expect. +Somebody was always wanting her at the Sanatorium. It's a bother, of +course, when folks do want you all the time, isn't it?--'cause you +can't have yourself when you want yourself, lots of times. Still, you +can be kind of glad for that, for it IS nice to be wanted, isn't it?" + +There was no reply--perhaps because for the first time in her life +Mrs. Carew was wondering if anywhere in the world there was any one +who really wanted her--not that she WISHED to be wanted, of course, +she told herself angrily, pulling herself up with a jerk, and frowning +down at the child by her side. + +Pollyanna did not see the frown. Pollyanna's eyes were on the hurrying +throngs about them. + +"My! what a lot of people," she was saying happily. "There's even more +of them than there was the other time I was here; but I haven't seen +anybody, yet, that I saw then, though I've looked for them everywhere. +Of course the lady and the little baby lived in Honolulu, so probably +THEY WOULDN'T be here; but there was a little girl, Susie Smith--she +lived right here in Boston. Maybe you know her though. Do you know +Susie Smith?" + +"No, I don't know Susie Smith," replied Mrs. Carew, dryly. + +"Don't you? She's awfully nice, and SHE'S pretty--black curls, you +know; the kind I'm going to have when I go to Heaven. But never mind; +maybe I can find her for you so you WILL know her. Oh, my! what a +perfectly lovely automobile! And are we going to ride in it?" broke +off Pollyanna, as they came to a pause before a handsome limousine, +the door of which a liveried chauffeur was holding open. + +[Illustration: "'Oh, my! What a perfectly lovely automobile!'"] + +The chauffeur tried to hide a smile--and failed. Mrs. Carew, however, +answered with the weariness of one to whom "rides" are never anything +but a means of locomotion from one tiresome place to another probably +quite as tiresome. + +"Yes, we're going to ride in it." Then "Home, Perkins," she added to +the deferential chauffeur. + +"Oh, my, is it yours?" asked Pollyanna, detecting the unmistakable air +of ownership in her hostess's manner. "How perfectly lovely! Then you +must be rich--awfully--I mean EXCEEDINGLY rich, more than the kind +that just has carpets in every room and ice cream Sundays, like the +Whites--one of my Ladies' Aiders, you know. (That is, SHE was a +Ladies' Aider.) I used to think THEY were rich, but I know now that +being really rich means you've got diamond rings and hired girls and +sealskin coats, and dresses made of silk and velvet for every day, and +an automobile. Have you got all those?" + +"Why, y-yes, I suppose I have," admitted Mrs. Carew, with a faint +smile. + +"Then you are rich, of course," nodded Pollyanna, wisely. "My Aunt +Polly has them, too, only her automobile is a horse. My! but don't I +just love to ride in these things," exulted Pollyanna, with a happy +little bounce. "You see I never did before, except the one that ran +over me. They put me IN that one after they'd got me out from under +it; but of course I didn't know about it, so I couldn't enjoy it. +Since then I haven't been in one at all. Aunt Polly doesn't like them. +Uncle Tom does, though, and he wants one. He says he's got to have +one, in his business. He's a doctor, you know, and all the other +doctors in town have got them now. I don't know how it will come out. +Aunt Polly is all stirred up over it. You see, she wants Uncle Tom to +have what he wants, only she wants him to want what she wants him to +want. See?" + +Mrs. Carew laughed suddenly. + +"Yes, my dear, I think I see," she answered demurely, though her eyes +still carried--for them--a most unusual twinkle. + +"All right," sighed Pollyanna contentedly. "I thought you would; +still, it did sound sort of mixed when I said it. Oh, Aunt Polly says +she wouldn't mind having an automobile, so much, if she could have the +only one there was in the world, so there wouldn't be any one else to +run into her; but--My! what a lot of houses!" broke off Pollyanna, +looking about her with round eyes of wonder. "Don't they ever stop? +Still, there'd have to be a lot of them for all those folks to live +in, of course, that I saw at the station, besides all these here on +the streets. And of course where there ARE more folks, there are more +to know. I love folks. Don't you?" + +"LOVE FOLKS!" + +"Yes, just folks, I mean. Anybody--everybody." + +"Well, no, Pollyanna, I can't say that I do," replied Mrs. Carew, +coldly, her brows contracted. + +Mrs. Carew's eyes had lost their twinkle. They were turned rather +mistrustfully, indeed, on Pollyanna. To herself Mrs. Carew was saying: +"Now for preachment number one, I suppose, on my duty to mix with my +fellow-men, a la Sister Della!" + +"Don't you? Oh, I do," sighed Pollyanna. "They're all so nice and so +different, you know. And down here there must be such a lot of them to +be nice and different. Oh, you don't know how glad I am so soon that I +came! I knew I would be, anyway, just as soon as I found out you were +YOU--that is, Miss Wetherby's sister, I mean. I love Miss Wetherby, so +I knew I should you, too; for of course you'd be alike--sisters, +so--even if you weren't twins like Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Peck--and they +weren't quite alike, anyway, on account of the wart. But I reckon you +don't know what I mean, so I'll tell you." + +And thus it happened that Mrs. Carew, who had been steeling herself +for a preachment on social ethics, found herself, much to her surprise +and a little to her discomfiture, listening to the story of a wart on +the nose of one Mrs. Peck, Ladies' Aider. + +By the time the story was finished the limousine had turned into +Commonwealth Avenue, and Pollyanna immediately began to exclaim at the +beauty of a street which had such a "lovely big long yard all the way +up and down through the middle of it," and which was all the nicer, +she said, "after all those little narrow streets." + +"Only I should think every one would want to live on it," she +commented enthusiastically. + +"Very likely; but that would hardly be possible," retorted Mrs. Carew, +with uplifted eyebrows. + +Pollyanna, mistaking the expression on her face for one of +dissatisfaction that her own home was not on the beautiful Avenue, +hastened to make amends. + +"Why, no, of course not," she agreed. "And I didn't mean that the +narrower streets weren't just as nice," she hurried on; "and even +better, maybe, because you could be glad you didn't have to go so far +when you wanted to run across the way to borrow eggs or soda, and--Oh, +but DO you live here?" she interrupted herself, as the car came to a +stop before the imposing Carew doorway. "Do you live here, Mrs. +Carew?" + +"Why, yes, of course I live here," returned the lady, with just a +touch of irritation. + +"Oh, how glad, GLAD you must be to live in such a perfectly lovely +place!" exulted the little girl, springing to the sidewalk and looking +eagerly about her. "Aren't you glad?" + +Mrs. Carew did not reply. With unsmiling lips and frowning brow she +was stepping from the limousine. + +For the second time in five minutes, Pollyanna hastened to make +amends. + +"Of course I don't mean the kind of glad that's sinfully proud," she +explained, searching Mrs. Carew's face with anxious eyes. "Maybe you +thought I did, same as Aunt Polly used to, sometimes. I don't mean the +kind that's glad because you've got something somebody else can't +have; but the kind that just--just makes you want to shout and yell +and bang doors, you know, even if it isn't proper," she finished, +dancing up and down on her toes. + +The chauffeur turned his back precipitately, and busied himself with +the car. Mrs. Carew, still with unsmiling lips and frowning brow led +the way up the broad stone steps. + +"Come, Pollyanna," was all she said, crisply. + + +It was five days later that Della Wetherby received the letter from +her sister, and very eagerly she tore it open. It was the first that +had come since Pollyanna's arrival in Boston. + +"My dear Sister," Mrs. Carew had written. "For pity's sake, Della, why +didn't you give me some sort of an idea what to expect from this child +you have insisted upon my taking? I'm nearly wild--and I simply can't +send her away. I've tried to three times, but every time, before I get +the words out of my mouth, she stops them by telling me what a +perfectly lovely time she is having, and how glad she is to be here, +and how good I am to let her live with me while her Aunt Polly has +gone to Germany. Now how, pray, in the face of that, can I turn around +and say 'Well, won't you please go home; I don't want you'? And the +absurd part of it is, I don't believe it has ever entered her head +that I don't WANT her here; and I can't seem to make it enter her +head, either. + +"Of course if she begins to preach, and to tell me to count my +blessings, I SHALL send her away. You know I told you, to begin with, +that I wouldn't permit that. And I won't. Two or three times I have +thought she was going to (preach, I mean), but so far she has always +ended up with some ridiculous story about those Ladies' Aiders of +hers; so the sermon gets sidetracked--luckily for her, if she wants to +stay. + +"But, really, Della, she is impossible. Listen. In the first place she +is wild with delight over the house. The very first day she got here +she begged me to open every room; and she was not satisfied until +every shade in the house was up, so that she might 'see all the +perfectly lovely things,' which, she declared, were even nicer than +Mr. John Pendleton's--whoever he may be, somebody in Beldingsville, I +believe. Anyhow, he isn't a Ladies' Aider. I've found out that much. + +"Then, as if it wasn't enough to keep me running from room to room (as +if I were the guide on a 'personally conducted'), what did she do but +discover a white satin evening gown that I hadn't worn for years, and +beseech me to put it on. And I did put it on--why, I can't imagine, +only that I found myself utterly helpless in her hands. + +"But that was only the beginning. She begged then to see everything +that I had, and she was so perfectly funny in her stories of the +missionary barrels, which she used to 'dress out of,' that I had to +laugh--though I almost cried, too, to think of the wretched things +that poor child had to wear. Of course gowns led to jewels, and she +made such a fuss over my two or three rings that I foolishly opened +the safe, just to see her eyes pop out. And, Della, I thought that +child would go crazy. She put on to me every ring, brooch, bracelet, +and necklace that I owned, and insisted on fastening both diamond +tiaras in my hair (when she found out what they were), until there I +sat, hung with pearls and diamonds and emeralds, and feeling like a +heathen goddess in a Hindu temple, especially when that preposterous +child began to dance round and round me, clapping her hands and +chanting, 'Oh, how perfectly lovely, how perfectly lovely! How I would +love to hang you on a string in the window--you'd make such a +beautiful prism!' + +"I was just going to ask her what on earth she meant by that when down +she dropped in the middle of the floor and began to cry. And what do +you suppose she was crying for? Because she was so glad she'd got eyes +that could see! Now what do you think of that? + +"Of course this isn't all. It's only the beginning. Pollyanna has been +here four days, and she's filled every one of them full. She already +numbers among her friends the ash-man, the policeman on the beat, and +the paper boy, to say nothing of every servant in my employ. They seem +actually bewitched with her, every one of them. But please do not +think _I_ am, for I'm not. I would send the child back to you at once +if I didn't feel obliged to fulfil my promise to keep her this winter. +As for her making me forget Jamie and my great sorrow--that is +impossible. She only makes me feel my loss all the more +keenly--because I have her instead of him. But, as I said, I shall +keep her--until she begins to preach. Then back she goes to you. But +she hasn't preached yet. + + "Lovingly but distractedly yours, + + "RUTH." + +"'Hasn't preached yet,' indeed!" chuckled Della Wetherby to herself, +folding up the closely-written sheets of her sister's letter. "Oh, +Ruth, Ruth! and yet you admit that you've opened every room, raised +every shade, decked yourself in satin and jewels--and Pollyanna hasn't +been there a week yet. But she hasn't preached--oh, no, she hasn't +preached!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE GAME AND MRS. CAREW + + +Boston, to Pollyanna, was a new experience, and certainly Pollyanna, +to Boston--such part of it as was privileged to know her--was very +much of a new experience. + +Pollyanna said she liked Boston, but that she did wish it was not +quite so big. + +"You see," she explained earnestly to Mrs. Carew, the day following +her arrival, "I want to see and know it ALL, and I can't. It's just +like Aunt Polly's company dinners; there's so much to eat--I mean, to +see--that you don't eat--I mean, see--anything, because you're always +trying to decide what to eat--I mean, to see. + +"Of course you can be glad there IS such a lot," resumed Pollyanna, +after taking breath, "'cause a whole lot of anything is nice--that is, +GOOD things; not such things as medicine and funerals, of course!--but +at the same time I couldn't used to help wishing Aunt Polly's company +dinners could be spread out a little over the days when there wasn't +any cake and pie; and I feel the same way about Boston. I wish I could +take part of it home with me up to Beldingsville so I'd have SOMETHING +new next summer. But of course I can't. Cities aren't like frosted +cake--and, anyhow, even the cake didn't keep very well. I tried it, +and it dried up, 'specially the frosting. I reckon the time to take +frosting and good times is while they are going; so I want to see all +I can now while I'm here." + +Pollyanna, unlike the people who think that to see the world one must +begin at the most distant point, began her "seeing Boston" by a +thorough exploration of her immediate surroundings--the beautiful +Commonwealth Avenue residence which was now her home. This, with her +school work, fully occupied her time and attention for some days. + +There was so much to see, and so much to learn; and everything was so +marvelous and so beautiful, from the tiny buttons in the wall that +flooded the rooms with light, to the great silent ballroom hung with +mirrors and pictures. There were so many delightful people to know, +too, for besides Mrs. Carew herself there were Mary, who dusted the +drawing-rooms, answered the bell, and accompanied Pollyanna to and +from school each day; Bridget, who lived in the kitchen and cooked; +Jennie, who waited at table, and Perkins who drove the automobile. And +they were all so delightful--yet so different! + +Pollyanna had arrived on a Monday, so it was almost a week before the +first Sunday. She came downstairs that morning with a beaming +countenance. + +"I love Sundays," she sighed happily. + +"Do you?" Mrs. Carew's voice had the weariness of one who loves no +day. + +"Yes, on account of church, you know, and Sunday school. Which do you +like best, church, or Sunday school?" + +"Well, really, I--" began Mrs. Carew, who seldom went to church and +never went to Sunday school. + +"'Tis hard to tell, isn't it?" interposed Pollyanna, with luminous but +serious eyes. "But you see _I_ like church best, on account of father. +You know he was a minister, and of course he's really up in Heaven +with mother and the rest of us, but I try to imagine him down here, +lots of times; and it's easiest in church, when the minister is +talking. I shut my eyes and imagine it's father up there; and it helps +lots. I'm so glad we can imagine things, aren't you?" + +"I'm not so sure of that, Pollyanna." + +"Oh, but just think how much nicer our IMAGINED things are than our +really truly ones--that is, of course, yours aren't, because your REAL +ones are so nice." Mrs. Carew angrily started to speak, but Pollyanna +was hurrying on. "And of course MY real ones are ever so much nicer +than they used to be. But all that time I was hurt, when my legs +didn't go, I just had to keep imagining all the time, just as hard as +I could. And of course now there are lots of times when I do it--like +about father, and all that. And so to-day I'm just going to imagine +it's father up there in the pulpit. What time do we go?" + +"GO?" + +"To church, I mean." + +"But, Pollyanna, I don't--that is, I'd rather not--" Mrs. Carew +cleared her throat and tried again to say that she was not going to +church at all; that she almost never went. But with Pollyanna's +confident little face and happy eyes before her, she could not do it. + +"Why, I suppose--about quarter past ten--if we walk," she said then, +almost crossly. "It's only a little way." + +Thus it happened that Mrs. Carew on that bright September morning +occupied for the first time in months the Carew pew in the very +fashionable and elegant church to which she had gone as a girl, and +which she still supported liberally--so far as money went. + +To Pollyanna that Sunday morning service was a great wonder and joy. +The marvelous music of the vested choir, the opalescent rays from the +jeweled windows, the impassioned voice of the preacher, and the +reverent hush of the worshiping throng filled her with an ecstasy that +left her for a time almost speechless. Not until they were nearly home +did she fervently breathe: + +"Oh, Mrs. Carew, I've just been thinking how glad I am we don't have +to live but just one day at a time!" + +Mrs. Carew frowned and looked down sharply. Mrs. Carew was in no mood +for preaching. She had just been obliged to endure it from the pulpit, +she told herself angrily, and she would NOT listen to it from this +chit of a child. Moreover, this "living one day at a time" theory was +a particularly pet doctrine of Della's. Was not Della always saying: +"But you only have to live one minute at a time, Ruth, and any one can +endure anything for one minute at a time!" + +"Well?" said Mrs. Carew now, tersely. + +"Yes. Only think what I'd do if I had to live yesterday and to-day and +to-morrow all at once," sighed Pollyanna. "Such a lot of perfectly +lovely things, you know. But I've had yesterday, and now I'm living +to-day, and I've got to-morrow still coming, and next Sunday, too. +Honestly, Mrs. Carew, if it wasn't Sunday now, and on this nice quiet +street, I should just dance and shout and yell. I couldn't help it. +But it's being Sunday, so, I shall have to wait till I get home and +then take a hymn--the most rejoicingest hymn I can think of. What is +the most rejoicingest hymn? Do you know, Mrs. Carew?" + +"No, I can't say that I do," answered Mrs. Carew, faintly, looking +very much as if she were searching for something she had lost. For a +woman who expects, because things are so bad, to be told that she need +stand only one day at a time, it is disarming, to say the least, to be +told that, because things are so good, it is lucky she does not HAVE +to stand but one day at a time! + +On Monday, the next morning, Pollyanna went to school for the first +time alone. She knew the way perfectly now, and it was only a short +walk. Pollyanna enjoyed her school very much. It was a small private +school for girls, and was quite a new experience, in its way; but +Pollyanna liked new experiences. + +Mrs. Carew, however, did not like new experiences, and she was having +a good many of them these days. For one who is tired of everything to +be in so intimate a companionship with one to whom everything is a +fresh and fascinating joy must needs result in annoyance, to say the +least. And Mrs. Carew was more than annoyed. She was exasperated. Yet +to herself she was forced to admit that if any one asked her why she +was exasperated, the only reason she could give would be "Because +Pollyanna is so glad"--and even Mrs. Carew would hardly like to give +an answer like that. + +To Della, however, Mrs. Carew did write that the word "glad" had got +on her nerves, and that sometimes she wished she might never hear it +again. She still admitted that Pollyanna had not preached--that she +had not even once tried to make her play the game. What the child did +do, however, was invariably to take Mrs. Carew's "gladness" as a +matter of course, which, to one who HAD no gladness, was most +provoking. + +It was during the second week of Pollyanna's stay that Mrs. Carew's +annoyance overflowed into irritable remonstrance. The immediate cause +thereof was Pollyanna's glowing conclusion to a story about one of her +Ladies' Aiders. + +"She was playing the game, Mrs. Carew. But maybe you don't know what +the game is. I'll tell you. It's a lovely game." + +But Mrs. Carew held up her hand. + +"Never mind, Pollyanna," she demurred. "I know all about the game. My +sister told me, and--and I must say that I--I should not care for it." + +"Why, of course not, Mrs. Carew!" exclaimed Pollyanna in quick +apology. "I didn't mean the game for you. You couldn't play it, of +course." + +"I COULDN'T play it!" ejaculated Mrs. Carew, who, though she WOULD not +play this silly game, was in no mood to be told that she COULD not. + +"Why, no, don't you see?" laughed Pollyanna, gleefully. "The game is +to find something in everything to be glad about; and you couldn't +even begin to hunt, for there isn't anything about you but what you +COULD be glad about. There wouldn't BE any game to it for you! Don't +you see?" + +Mrs. Carew flushed angrily. In her annoyance she said more than +perhaps she meant to say. + +"Well, no, Pollyanna, I can't say that I do," she differed coldly. "As +it happens, you see, I can find nothing whatever to be--glad for." + +For a moment Pollyanna stared blankly. Then she fell back in +amazement. + +"Why, MRS. CAREW!" she breathed. + +"Well, what is there--for me?" challenged the woman, forgetting all +about, for the moment, that she was never going to allow Pollyanna to +"preach." + +"Why, there's--there's everything," murmured Pollyanna, still with +that dazed unbelief. "There--there's this beautiful house." + +"It's just a place to eat and sleep--and I don't want to eat and +sleep." + +"But there are all these perfectly lovely things," faltered Pollyanna. + +"I'm tired of them." + +"And your automobile that will take you anywhere." + +"I don't want to go anywhere." + +Pollyanna quite gasped aloud. + +"But think of the people and things you could see, Mrs. Carew." + +"They would not interest me, Pollyanna." + +Once again Pollyanna stared in amazement. The troubled frown on her +face deepened. + +"But, Mrs. Carew, I don't see," she urged. "Always, before, there have +been BAD things for folks to play the game on, and the badder they are +the more fun 'tis to get them out--find the things to be glad for, I +mean. But where there AREN'T any bad things, I shouldn't know how to +play the game myself." + +There was no answer for a time. Mrs. Carew sat with her eyes out the +window. Gradually the angry rebellion on her face changed to a look of +hopeless sadness. Very slowly then she turned and said: + +"Pollyanna, I had thought I wouldn't tell you this; but I've decided +that I will. I'm going to tell you why nothing that I have can make +me--glad." And she began the story of Jamie, the little four-year-old +boy who, eight long years before, had stepped as into another world, +leaving the door fast shut between. + +"And you've never seen him since--anywhere?" faltered Pollyanna, with +tear-wet eyes, when the story was done. + +"Never." + +"But we'll find him, Mrs. Carew--I'm sure we'll find him." + +Mrs. Carew shook her head sadly. + +"But I can't. I've looked everywhere, even in foreign lands." + +"But he must be somewhere." + +"He may be--dead, Pollyanna." + +Pollyanna gave a quick cry. + +"Oh, no, Mrs. Carew. Please don't say that! Let's imagine he's alive. +We CAN do that, and that'll help; and when we get him IMAGINED alive +we can just as well imagine we're going to find him. And that'll help +a whole lot more." + +"But I'm afraid he's--dead, Pollyanna," choked Mrs. Carew. + +"You don't know it for sure, do you?" besought the little girl, +anxiously. + +"N-no." + +"Well, then, you're just imagining it," maintained Pollyanna, in +triumph. "And if you can imagine him dead, you can just as well +imagine him alive, and it'll be a whole lot nicer while you're doing +it. Don't you see? And some day, I'm just sure you'll find him. Why, +Mrs. Carew, you CAN play the game now! You can play it on Jamie. You +can be glad every day, for every day brings you just one day nearer to +the time when you're going to find him. See?" + +But Mrs. Carew did not "see." She rose drearily to her feet and said: + +"No, no, child! You don't understand--you don't understand. Now run +away, please, and read, or do anything you like. My head aches. I'm +going to lie down." + +And Pollyanna, with a troubled, sober face, slowly left the room. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +POLLYANNA TAKES A WALK + + +It was on the second Saturday afternoon that Pollyanna took her +memorable walk. Heretofore Pollyanna had not walked out alone, except +to go to and from school. That she would ever attempt to explore +Boston streets by herself, never occurred to Mrs. Carew, hence she +naturally had never forbidden it. In Beldingsville, however, Pollyanna +had found--especially at the first--her chief diversion in strolling +about the rambling old village streets in search of new friends and +new adventures. + +On this particular Saturday afternoon Mrs. Carew had said, as she +often did say: "There, there, child, run away; please do. Go where you +like and do what you like, only don't, please, ask me any more +questions to-day!" + +Until now, left to herself, Pollyanna had always found plenty to +interest her within the four walls of the house; for, if inanimate +things failed, there were yet Mary, Jennie, Bridget, and Perkins. +To-day, however, Mary had a headache, Jennie was trimming a new hat, +Bridget was making apple pies, and Perkins was nowhere to be found. +Moreover it was a particularly beautiful September day, and nothing +within the house was so alluring as the bright sunlight and balmy air +outside. So outside Pollyanna went and dropped herself down on the +steps. + +For some time she watched in silence the well-dressed men, women, and +children, who walked briskly by the house, or else sauntered more +leisurely through the parkway that extended up and down the middle of +the Avenue. Then she got to her feet, skipped down the steps, and +stood looking, first to the right, then to the left. + +Pollyanna had decided that she, too, would take a walk. It was a +beautiful day for a walk, and not once, yet, had she taken one at +all--not a REAL walk. Just going to and from school did not count. So +she would take one to-day. Mrs. Carew would not mind. Had she not told +her to do just what she pleased so long as she asked no more +questions? And there was the whole long afternoon before her. Only +think what a lot one might see in a whole long afternoon! And it +really was such a beautiful day. She would go--this way! And with a +little whirl and skip of pure joy, Pollyanna turned and walked +blithely down the Avenue. + +Into the eyes of those she met Pollyanna smiled joyously. She was +disappointed--but not surprised--that she received no answering smile +in return. She was used to that now--in Boston. She still smiled, +however, hopefully: there might be some one, sometime, who would smile +back. + +Mrs. Carew's home was very near the beginning of Commonwealth Avenue, +so it was not long before Pollyanna found herself at the edge of a +street crossing her way at right angles. Across the street, in all its +autumn glory, lay what to Pollyanna was the most beautiful "yard" she +had ever seen--the Boston Public Garden. + +For a moment Pollyanna hesitated, her eyes longingly fixed on the +wealth of beauty before her. That it was the private grounds of some +rich man or woman, she did not for a moment doubt. Once, with Dr. Ames +at the Sanatorium, she had been taken to call on a lady who lived in a +beautiful house surrounded by just such walks and trees and +flower-beds as these. + +Pollyanna wanted now very much to cross the street and walk in those +grounds, but she doubted if she had the right. To be sure, others were +there, moving about, she could see; but they might be invited guests, +of course. After she had seen two women, one man, and a little girl +unhesitatingly enter the gate and walk briskly down the path, however, +Pollyanna concluded that she, too, might go. Watching her chance she +skipped nimbly across the street and entered the Garden. + +It was even more beautiful close at hand than it had been at a +distance. Birds twittered over her head, and a squirrel leaped across +the path ahead of her. On benches here and there sat men, women, and +children. Through the trees flashed the sparkle of the sun on water; +and from somewhere came the shouts of children and the sound of music. + +Once again Pollyanna hesitated; then, a little timidly, she accosted a +handsomely-dressed young woman coming toward her. + +"Please, is this--a party?" she asked. + +The young woman stared. + +"A party!" she repeated dazedly. + +"Yes'm. I mean, is it all right for me--to be here?" + +"For you to be here? Why, of course. It's for--for everybody!" +exclaimed the young woman. + +"Oh, that's all right, then. I'm glad I came," beamed Pollyanna. + +The young woman said nothing; but she turned back and looked at +Pollyanna still dazedly as she hurried away. + +Pollyanna, not at all surprised that the owner of this beautiful place +should be so generous as to give a party to everybody, continued on +her way. At the turn of the path she came upon a small girl and a doll +carriage. She stopped with a glad little cry, but she had not said a +dozen words before from somewhere came a young woman with hurrying +steps and a disapproving voice; a young woman who held out her hand to +the small girl, and said sharply: + +"Here, Gladys, Gladys, come away with me. Hasn't mama told you not to +talk to strange children?" + +"But I'm not strange children," explained Pollyanna in eager defense. +"I live right here in Boston, now, and--" But the young woman and the +little girl dragging the doll carriage were already far down the path; +and with a half-stifled sigh Pollyanna fell back. For a moment she +stood silent, plainly disappointed; then resolutely she lifted her +chin and went forward. + +"Well, anyhow, I can be glad for that," she nodded to herself, "for +now maybe I'll find somebody even nicer--Susie Smith, perhaps, or even +Mrs. Carew's Jamie. Anyhow, I can IMAGINE I'm going to find them; and +if I don't find THEM, I can find SOMEBODY!" she finished, her wistful +eyes on the self-absorbed people all about her. + +Undeniably Pollyanna was lonesome. Brought up by her father and the +Ladies' Aid Society in a small Western town, she had counted every +house in the village her home, and every man, woman, and child her +friend. Coming to her aunt in Vermont at eleven years of age, she had +promptly assumed that conditions would differ only in that the homes +and the friends would be new, and therefore even more delightful, +possibly, for they would be "different"--and Pollyanna did so love +"different" things and people! Her first and always her supreme +delight in Beldingsville, therefore, had been her long rambles about +the town and the charming visits with the new friends she had made. +Quite naturally, in consequence, Boston, as she first saw it, seemed +to Pollyanna even more delightfully promising in its possibilities. + +Thus far, however, Pollyanna had to admit that in one respect, at +least, it had been disappointing: she had been here nearly two weeks +and she did not yet know the people who lived across the street, or +even next door. More inexplicable still, Mrs. Carew herself did not +know many of them, and not any of them well. She seemed, indeed, +utterly indifferent to her neighbors, which was most amazing from +Pollyanna's point of view; but nothing she could say appeared to +change Mrs. Carew's attitude in the matter at all. + +"They do not interest me, Pollyanna," was all she would say; and with +this, Pollyanna--whom they did interest very much--was forced to be +content. + +To-day, on her walk, however, Pollyanna had started out with high +hopes, yet thus far she seemed destined to be disappointed. Here all +about her were people who were doubtless most delightful--if she only +knew them. But she did not know them. Worse yet, there seemed to be no +prospect that she would know them, for they did not, apparently, wish +to know her: Pollyanna was still smarting under the nurse's sharp +warning concerning "strange children." + +"Well, I reckon I'll just have to show 'em that I'm not strange +children," she said at last to herself, moving confidently forward +again. + +Pursuant of this idea Pollyanna smiled sweetly into the eyes of the +next person she met, and said blithely: + +"It's a nice day, isn't it?" + +"Er--what? Oh, y-yes, it is," murmured the lady addressed, as she +hastened on a little faster. + +Twice again Pollyanna tried the same experiment, but with like +disappointing results. Soon she came upon the little pond that she had +seen sparkling in the sunlight through the trees. It was a beautiful +pond, and on it were several pretty little boats full of laughing +children. As she watched them, Pollyanna felt more and more +dissatisfied to remain by herself. It was then that, spying a man +sitting alone not far away, she advanced slowly toward him and sat +down on the other end of the bench. Once Pollyanna would have danced +unhesitatingly to the man's side and suggested acquaintanceship with a +cheery confidence that had no doubt of a welcome; but recent rebuffs +had filled her with unaccustomed diffidence. Covertly she looked at +the man now. + +He was not very good to look at. His garments, though new, were dusty, +and plainly showed lack of care. They were of the cut and style +(though Pollyanna of course did not know this) that the State gives +its prisoners as a freedom suit. His face was a pasty white, and was +adorned with a week's beard. His hat was pulled far down over his +eyes. With his hands in his pockets he sat idly staring at the ground. + +For a long minute Pollyanna said nothing; then hopefully she began: + +"It IS a nice day, isn't it?" + +The man turned his head with a start. + +"Eh? Oh--er--what did you say?" he questioned, with a curiously +frightened look around to make sure the remark was addressed to him. + +"I said 'twas a nice day," explained Pollyanna in hurried earnestness; +"but I don't care about that especially. That is, of course I'm glad +it's a nice day, but I said it just as a beginning to things, and I'd +just as soon talk about something else--anything else. It's only that +I wanted you to talk--about something, you see." + +The man gave a low laugh. Even to Pollyanna the laugh sounded a little +queer, though she did not know (as did the man) that a laugh to his +lips had been a stranger for many months. + +"So you want me to talk, do you?" he said a little sadly. "Well, I +don't see but what I shall have to do it, then. Still, I should think +a nice little lady like you might find lots nicer people to talk to +than an old duffer like me." + +"Oh, but I like old duffers," exclaimed Pollyanna quickly; "that is, I +like the OLD part, and I don't know what a duffer is, so I can't +dislike that. Besides, if you are a duffer, I reckon I like duffers. +Anyhow, I like you," she finished, with a contented little settling of +herself in her seat that carried conviction. + +"Humph! Well, I'm sure I'm flattered," smiled the man, ironically. +Though his face and words expressed polite doubt, it might have been +noticed that he sat a little straighter on the bench. "And, pray, what +shall we talk about?" + +"It's--it's infinitesimal to me. That means I don't care, doesn't it?" +asked Pollyanna, with a beaming smile. "Aunt Polly says that, whatever +I talk about, anyhow, I always bring up at the Ladies' Aiders. But I +reckon that's because they brought me up first, don't you? We might +talk about the party. I think it's a perfectly beautiful party--now +that I know some one." + +"P-party?" + +"Yes--this, you know--all these people here to-day. It IS a party, +isn't it? The lady said it was for everybody, so I stayed--though I +haven't got to where the house is, yet, that's giving the party." + +The man's lips twitched. + +"Well, little lady, perhaps it is a party, in a way," he smiled; "but +the 'house' that's giving it is the city of Boston. This is the Public +Garden--a public park, you understand, for everybody." + +"Is it? Always? And I may come here any time I want to? Oh, how +perfectly lovely! That's even nicer than I thought it could be. I'd +worried for fear I couldn't ever come again, after to-day, you see. +I'm glad now, though, that I didn't know it just at the first, for +it's all the nicer now. Nice things are nicer when you've been +worrying for fear they won't be nice, aren't they?" + +"Perhaps they are--if they ever turn out to be nice at all," conceded +the man, a little gloomily. + +"Yes, I think so," nodded Pollyanna, not noticing the gloom. "But +isn't it beautiful--here?" she gloried. "I wonder if Mrs. Carew knows +about it--that it's for anybody, so. Why, I should think everybody +would want to come here all the time, and just stay and look around." + +The man's face hardened. + +"Well, there are a few people in the world who have got a job--who've +got something to do besides just to come here and stay and look +around; but I don't happen to be one of them." + +"Don't you? Then you can be glad for that, can't you?" sighed +Pollyanna, her eyes delightedly following a passing boat. + +The man's lips parted indignantly, but no words came. Pollyanna was +still talking. + +"I wish _I_ didn't have anything to do but that. I have to go to +school. Oh, I like school; but there's such a whole lot of things I +like better. Still I'm glad I CAN go to school. I'm 'specially glad +when I remember how last winter I didn't think I could ever go again. +You see, I lost my legs for a while--I mean, they didn't go; and you +know you never know how much you use things, till you don't have 'em. +And eyes, too. Did you ever think what a lot you do with eyes? I +didn't till I went to the Sanatorium. There was a lady there who had +just got blind the year before. I tried to get her to play the +game--finding something to be glad about, you know--but she said she +couldn't; and if I wanted to know why, I might tie up my eyes with my +handkerchief for just one hour. And I did. It was awful. Did you ever +try it?" + +"Why, n-no, I didn't." A half-vexed, half-baffled expression was +coming to the man's face. + +"Well, don't. It's awful. You can't do anything--not anything that you +want to do. But I kept it on the whole hour. Since then I've been so +glad, sometimes--when I see something perfectly lovely like this, you +know--I've been so glad I wanted to cry;--'cause I COULD see it, you +know. She's playing the game now, though--that blind lady is. Miss +Wetherby told me." + +"The--GAME?" + +"Yes; the glad game. Didn't I tell you? Finding something in +everything to be glad about. Well, she's found it now--about her eyes, +you know. Her husband is the kind of a man that goes to help make the +laws, and she had him ask for one that would help blind people, +'specially little babies. And she went herself and talked and told +those men how it felt to be blind. And they made it--that law. And +they said that she did more than anybody else, even her husband, to +help make it, and that they didn't believe there would have been any +law at all if it hadn't been for her. So now she says she's glad she +lost her eyes, 'cause she's kept so many little babies from growing up +to be blind like her. So you see she's playing it--the game. But I +reckon you don't know about the game yet, after all; so I'll tell you. +It started this way." And Pollyanna, with her eyes on the shimmering +beauty all about her, told of the little pair of crutches of long ago, +which should have been a doll. + +When the story was finished there was a long silence; then, a little +abruptly the man got to his feet. + +"Oh, are you going away NOW?" she asked in open disappointment. + +"Yes, I'm going now." He smiled down at her a little queerly. + +"But you're coming back sometime?" + +He shook his head--but again he smiled. + +"I hope not--and I believe not, little girl. You see, I've made a +great discovery to-day. I thought I was down and out. I thought there +was no place for me anywhere--now. But I've just discovered that I've +got two eyes, two arms, and two legs. Now I'm going to use them--and +I'm going to MAKE somebody understand that I know how to use them!" + +The next moment he was gone. + +"Why, what a funny man!" mused Pollyanna. "Still, he was nice--and he +was different, too," she finished, rising to her feet and resuming her +walk. + +Pollyanna was now once more her usual cheerful self, and she stepped +with the confident assurance of one who has no doubt. Had not the man +said that this was a public park, and that she had as good a right as +anybody to be there? She walked nearer to the pond and crossed the +bridge to the starting-place of the little boats. For some time she +watched the children happily, keeping a particularly sharp lookout for +the possible black curls of Susie Smith. She would have liked to take +a ride in the pretty boats, herself, but the sign said "Five cents" a +trip, and she did not have any money with her. She smiled hopefully +into the faces of several women, and twice she spoke tentatively. But +no one spoke first to her, and those whom she addressed eyed her +coldly, and made scant response. + +After a time she turned her steps into still another path. Here she +found a white-faced boy in a wheel chair. She would have spoken to +him, but he was so absorbed in his book that she turned away after a +moment's wistful gazing. Soon then she came upon a pretty, but +sad-looking young girl sitting alone, staring at nothing, very much as +the man had sat. With a contented little cry Pollyanna hurried +forward. + +"Oh, how do you do?" she beamed. "I'm so glad I found you! I've been +hunting ever so long for you," she asserted, dropping herself down on +the unoccupied end of the bench. + +The pretty girl turned with a start, an eager look of expectancy in +her eyes. + +"Oh!" she exclaimed, falling back in plain disappointment. "I +thought-- Why, what do you mean?" she demanded aggrievedly. "I never +set eyes on you before in my life." + +"No, I didn't you, either," smiled Pollyanna; "but I've been hunting +for you, just the same. That is, of course I didn't know you were +going to be YOU exactly. It's just that I wanted to find some one that +looked lonesome, and that didn't have anybody. Like me, you know. So +many here to-day have got folks. See?" + +"Yes, I see," nodded the girl, falling back into her old listlessness. +"But, poor little kid, it's too bad YOU should find it out--so soon." + +"Find what out?" + +"That the lonesomest place in all the world is in a crowd in a big +city." + +Pollyanna frowned and pondered. + +"Is it? I don't see how it can be. I don't see how you can be lonesome +when you've got folks all around you. Still--" she hesitated, and the +frown deepened. "I WAS lonesome this afternoon, and there WERE folks +all around me; only they didn't seem to--to think--or notice." + +The pretty girl smiled bitterly. + +"That's just it. They don't ever think--or notice, crowds don't." + +"But some folks do. We can be glad some do," urged Pollyanna. "Now +when I--" + +"Oh, yes, some do," interrupted the other. As she spoke she shivered +and looked fearfully down the path beyond Pollyanna. "Some notice--too +much." + +Pollyanna shrank back in dismay. Repeated rebuffs that afternoon had +given her a new sensitiveness. + +"Do you mean--me?" she stammered. "That you wished I +hadn't--noticed--you?" + +"No, no, kiddie! I meant--some one quite different from you. Some one +that hadn't ought to notice. I was glad to have you speak, only--I +thought at first it was some one from home." + +"Oh, then you don't live here, either, any more than I do--I mean, for +keeps." + +"Oh, yes, I live here now," sighed the girl; "that is, if you can call +it living--what I do." + +"What do you do?" asked Pollyanna interestedly. + +"Do? I'll tell you what I do," cried the other, with sudden +bitterness. "From morning till night I sell fluffy laces and perky +bows to girls that laugh and talk and KNOW each other. Then I go home +to a little back room up three flights just big enough to hold a lumpy +cot-bed, a washstand with a nicked pitcher, one rickety chair, and me. +It's like a furnace in the summer and an ice box in the winter; but +it's all the place I've got, and I'm supposed to stay in it--when I +ain't workin'. But I've come out to-day. I ain't goin' to stay in that +room, and I ain't goin' to go to any old library to read, neither. +It's our last half-holiday this year--and an extra one, at that; and +I'm going to have a good time--for once. I'm just as young, and I like +to laugh and joke just as well as them girls I sell bows to all day. +Well, to-day I'm going to laugh and joke." + +Pollyanna smiled and nodded her approval. + +"I'm glad you feel that way. I do, too. It's a lot more fun--to be +happy, isn't it? Besides, the Bible tells us to;--rejoice and be glad, +I mean. It tells us to eight hundred times. Probably you know about +'em, though--the rejoicing texts." + +The pretty girl shook her head. A queer look came to her face. + +"Well, no," she said dryly. "I can't say I WAS thinkin'--of the +Bible." + +"Weren't you? Well, maybe not; but, you see, MY father was a minister, +and he--" + +"A MINISTER?" + +"Yes. Why, was yours, too?" cried Pollyanna, answering something she +saw in the other's face. + +"Y-yes." A faint color crept up to the girl's forehead. + +"Oh, and has he gone like mine to be with God and the angels?" + +The girl turned away her head. + +"No. He's still living--back home," she answered, half under her +breath. + +"Oh, how glad you must be," sighed Pollyanna, enviously. "Sometimes I +get to thinking, if only I could just SEE father once--but you do see +your father, don't you?" + +"Not often. You see, I'm down--here." + +"But you CAN see him--and I can't, mine. He's gone to be with mother +and the rest of us up in Heaven, and-- Have you got a mother, too--an +earth mother?" + +"Y-yes." The girl stirred restlessly, and half moved as if to go. + +"Oh, then you can see both of them," breathed Pollyanna, unutterable +longing in her face. "Oh, how glad you must be! For there just isn't +anybody, is there, that really CARES and notices quite so much as +fathers and mothers. You see I know, for I had a father until I was +eleven years old; but, for a mother, I had Ladies' Aiders for ever so +long, till Aunt Polly took me. Ladies' Aiders are lovely, but of +course they aren't like mothers, or even Aunt Pollys; and--" + +On and on Pollyanna talked. Pollyanna was in her element now. +Pollyanna loved to talk. That there was anything strange or unwise or +even unconventional in this intimate telling of her thoughts and her +history to a total stranger on a Boston park bench did not once occur +to Pollyanna. To Pollyanna all men, women, and children were friends, +either known or unknown; and thus far she had found the unknown quite +as delightful as the known, for with them there was always the +excitement of mystery and adventure--while they were changing from the +unknown to the known. + +To this young girl at her side, therefore, Pollyanna talked +unreservedly of her father, her Aunt Polly, her Western home, and her +journey East to Vermont. She told of new friends and old friends, and +of course she told of the game. Pollyanna almost always told everybody +of the game, either sooner or later. It was, indeed, so much a part of +her very self that she could hardly have helped telling of it. + +As for the girl--she said little. She was not now sitting in her old +listless attitude, however, and to her whole self had come a marked +change. The flushed cheeks, frowning brow, troubled eyes, and +nervously working fingers were plainly the signs of some inward +struggle. From time to time she glanced apprehensively down the path +beyond Pollyanna, and it was after such a glance that she clutched the +little girl's arm. + +"See here, kiddie, for just a minute don't you leave me. Do you hear? +Stay right where you are? There's a man I know comin'; but no matter +what he says, don't you pay no attention, and DON'T YOU GO. I'm goin' +to stay with YOU. See?" + +Before Pollyanna could more than gasp her wonderment and surprise, she +found herself looking up into the face of a very handsome young +gentleman, who had stopped before them. + +"Oh, here you are," he smiled pleasantly, lifting his hat to +Pollyanna's companion. "I'm afraid I'll have to begin with an +apology--I'm a little late." + +"It don't matter, sir," said the young girl, speaking hurriedly. +"I--I've decided not to go." + +The young man gave a light laugh. + +"Oh, come, my clear, don't be hard on a chap because he's a little +late!" + +"It isn't that, really," defended the girl, a swift red flaming into +her cheeks. "I mean--I'm not going." + +"Nonsense!" The man stopped smiling. He spoke sharply. "You said +yesterday you'd go." + +"I know; but I've changed my mind. I told my little friend here--I'd +stay with her." + +"Oh, but if you'd rather go with this nice young gentleman," began +Pollyanna, anxiously; but she fell back silenced at the look the girl +gave her. + +"I tell you I had NOT rather go. I'm not going." + +"And, pray, why this sudden right-about face?" demanded the young man +with an expression that made him suddenly look, to Pollyanna, not +quite so handsome. "Yesterday you said--" + +"I know I did," interrupted the girl, feverishly. "But I knew then +that I hadn't ought to. Let's call it--that I know it even better now. +That's all." And she turned away resolutely. + +It was not all. The man spoke again, twice. He coaxed, then he sneered +with a hateful look in his eyes. At last he said something very low +and angry, which Pollyanna did not understand. The next moment he +wheeled about and strode away. + +The girl watched him tensely till he passed quite out of sight, then, +relaxing, she laid a shaking hand on Pollyanna's arm. + +"Thanks, kiddie. I reckon I owe you--more than you know. Good-by." + +"But you aren't going away NOW!" bemoaned Pollyanna. + +The girl sighed wearily. + +"I got to. He might come back, and next time I might not be able to--" +She clipped the words short and rose to her feet. For a moment she +hesitated, then she choked bitterly: "You see, he's the kind +that--notices too much, and that hadn't ought to notice--ME--at all!" +With that she was gone. + +"Why, what a funny lady," murmured Pollyanna, looking wistfully after +the vanishing figure. "She was nice, but she was sort of different, +too," she commented, rising to her feet and moving idly down the path. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +JERRY TO THE RESCUE + + +It was not long before Pollyanna reached the edge of the Garden at a +corner where two streets crossed. It was a wonderfully interesting +corner, with its hurrying cars, automobiles, carriages and +pedestrians. A huge red bottle in a drug-store window caught her eye, +and from down the street came the sound of a hurdy-gurdy. Hesitating +only a moment Pollyanna darted across the corner and skipped lightly +down the street toward the entrancing music. + +Pollyanna found much to interest her now. In the store windows were +marvelous objects, and around the hurdy-gurdy, when she had reached +it, she found a dozen dancing children, most fascinating to watch. So +altogether delightful, indeed, did this pastime prove to be that +Pollyanna followed the hurdy-gurdy for some distance, just to see +those children dance. Presently she found herself at a corner so busy +that a very big man in a belted blue coat helped the people across the +street. For an absorbed minute she watched him in silence; then, a +little timidly, she herself started to cross. + +It was a wonderful experience. The big, blue-coated man saw her at +once and promptly beckoned to her. He even walked to meet her. Then, +through a wide lane with puffing motors and impatient horses on either +hand, she walked unscathed to the further curb. It gave her a +delightful sensation, so delightful that, after a minute, she walked +back. Twice again, after short intervals, she trod the fascinating way +so magically opened at the lifting of the big man's hand. But the last +time her conductor left her at the curb, he gave a puzzled frown. + +[Illustration: "Twice again, after short intervals, she trod the +fascinating way"] + +"See here, little girl, ain't you the same one what crossed a minute +ago?" he demanded. "And again before that?" + +"Yes, sir," beamed Pollyanna. "I've been across four times!" + +"Well!" the officer began to bluster; but Pollyanna was still talking. + +"And it's been nicer every time!" + +"Oh-h, it has--has it?" mumbled the big man, lamely. Then, with a +little more spirit he sputtered: "What do you think I'm here for--just +to tote you back and forth?" + +"Oh, no, sir," dimpled Pollyanna. "Of course you aren't just for me! +There are all these others. I know what you are. You're a policeman. +We've got one of you out where I live at Mrs. Carew's, only he's the +kind that just walks on the sidewalk, you know. I used to think you +were soldiers, on account of your gold buttons and blue hats; but I +know better now. Only I think you ARE a kind of a soldier, 'cause +you're so brave--standing here like this, right in the middle of all +these teams and automobiles, helping folks across." + +"Ho--ho! Brrrr!" spluttered the big man, coloring like a schoolboy and +throwing back his head with a hearty laugh. "Ho--ho! Just as if--" He +broke off with a quick lifting of his hand. The next moment he was +escorting a plainly very much frightened little old lady from curb to +curb. If his step were a bit more pompous, and his chest a bit more +full, it must have been only an unconscious tribute to the watching +eyes of the little girl back at the starting-point. A moment later, +with a haughtily permissive wave of his hand toward the chafing +drivers and chauffeurs, he strolled back to Pollyanna. + +"Oh, that was splendid!" she greeted him, with shining eyes. "I love +to see you do it--and it's just like the Children of Israel crossing +the Red Sea, isn't it?--with you holding back the waves for the people +to cross. And how glad you must be all the time, that you can do it! I +used to think being a doctor was the very gladdest business there was, +but I reckon, after all, being a policeman is gladder yet--to help +frightened people like this, you know. And--" But with another +"Brrrr!" and an embarrassed laugh, the big blue-coated man was back in +the middle of the street, and Pollyanna was all alone on the +curbstone. + +For only a minute longer did Pollyanna watch her fascinating "Red +Sea," then, with a regretful backward glance, she turned away. + +"I reckon maybe I'd better be going home now," she meditated. "It must +be 'most dinner time." And briskly she started to walk back by the way +she had come. + +Not until she had hesitated at several corners, and unwittingly made +two false turns, did Pollyanna grasp the fact that "going back home" +was not to be so easy as she had thought it to be. And not until she +came to a building which she knew she had never seen before, did she +fully realize that she had lost her way. + +She was on a narrow street, dirty, and ill-paved. Dingy tenement +blocks and a few unattractive stores were on either side. All about +were jabbering men and chattering women--though not one word of what +they said could Pollyanna understand. Moreover, she could not help +seeing that the people looked at her very curiously, as if they knew +she did not belong there. + +Several times, already, she had asked her way, but in vain. No one +seemed to know where Mrs. Carew lived; and, the last two times, those +addressed had answered with a gesture and a jumble of words which +Pollyanna, after some thought, decided must be "Dutch," the kind the +Haggermans--the only foreign family in Beldingsville--used. + +On and on, down one street and up another, Pollyanna trudged. She was +thoroughly frightened now. She was hungry, too, and very tired. Her +feet ached, and her eyes smarted with the tears she was trying so hard +to hold back. Worse yet, it was unmistakably beginning to grow dark. + +"Well, anyhow," she choked to herself, "I'm going to be glad I'm lost, +'cause it'll be so nice when I get found. I CAN be glad for that!" + +It was at a noisy corner where two broader streets crossed that +Pollyanna finally came to a dismayed stop. This time the tears quite +overflowed, so that, lacking a handkerchief, she had to use the backs +of both hands to wipe them away. + +"Hullo, kid, why the weeps?" queried a cheery voice. "What's up?" + +With a relieved little cry Pollyanna turned to confront a small boy +carrying a bundle of newspapers under his arm. + +"Oh, I'm so glad to see you!" she exclaimed. "I've so wanted to see +some one who didn't talk Dutch!" + +The small boy grinned. + +"Dutch nothin'!" he scoffed. "You mean Dago, I bet ye." + +Pollyanna gave a slight frown. + +"Well, anyway, it--it wasn't English," she said doubtfully; "and they +couldn't answer my questions. But maybe you can. Do you know where +Mrs. Carew lives?" + +"Nix! You can search me." + +"Wha-at?" queried Pollyanna, still more doubtfully. + +The boy grinned again. + +"I say not in mine. I guess I ain't acquainted with the lady." + +"But isn't there anybody anywhere that is?" implored Pollyanna. "You +see, I just went out for a walk and I got lost. I've been ever and +ever so far, but I can't find the house at all; and it's supper--I +mean dinner time and getting dark. I want to get back. I MUST get +back." + +"Gee! Well, I should worry!" sympathized the boy. + +"Yes, and I'm afraid Mrs. Carew'll worry, too," sighed Pollyanna. + +"Gorry! if you ain't the limit," chuckled the youth, unexpectedly. +"But, say, listen! Don't ye know the name of the street ye want?" + +"No--only that it's some kind of an avenue," desponded Pollyanna. + +"A avenOO, is it? Sure, now, some class to that! We're doin' fine. +What's the number of the house? Can ye tell me that? Just scratch your +head!" + +"Scratch--my--head?" Pollyanna frowned questioningly, and raised a +tentative hand to her hair. + +The boy eyed her with disdain. + +"Aw, come off yer perch! Ye ain't so dippy as all that. I say, don't +ye know the number of the house ye want?" + +"N-no, except there's a seven in it," returned Pollyanna, with a +faintly hopeful air. + +"Won't ye listen ter that?" gibed the scornful youth. "There's a seven +in it--an' she expects me ter know it when I see it!" + +"Oh, I should know the house, if I could only see it," declared +Pollyanna, eagerly; "and I think I'd know the street, too, on account +of the lovely long yard running right up and down through the middle +of it." + +This time it was the boy who gave a puzzled frown. + +"YARD?" he queried, "in the middle of a street?" + +"Yes--trees and grass, you know, with a walk in the middle of it, and +seats, and--" But the boy interrupted her with a whoop of delight. + +"Gee whiz! Commonwealth Avenue, sure as yer livin'! Wouldn't that get +yer goat, now?" + +"Oh, do you know--do you, really?" besought Pollyanna. "That sounded +like it--only I don't know what you meant about the goat part. There +aren't any goats there. I don't think they'd allow--" + +"Goats nothin'!" scoffed the boy. "You bet yer sweet life I know where +'tis! Don't I tote Sir James up there to the Garden 'most ev'ry day? +An' I'll take YOU, too. Jest ye hang out here till I get on ter my job +again, an' sell out my stock. Then we'll make tracks for that 'ere +Avenue 'fore ye can say Jack Robinson." + +"You mean you'll take me--home?" appealed Pollyanna, still plainly not +quite understanding. + +"Sure! It's a cinch--if you know the house." + +"Oh, yes, I know the house," replied the literal Pollyanna, anxiously, +"but I don't know whether it's a--a cinch, or not. If it isn't, can't +you--" + +But the boy only threw her another disdainful glance and darted off +into the thick of the crowd. A moment later Pollyanna heard his +strident call of "paper, paper! Herald, Globe,--paper, sir?" + +With a sigh of relief Pollyanna stepped back into a doorway and +waited. She was tired, but she was happy. In spite of sundry puzzling +aspects of the case, she yet trusted the boy, and she had perfect +confidence that he could take her home. + +"He's nice, and I like him," she said to herself, following with her +eyes the boy's alert, darting figure. "But he does talk funny. His +words SOUND English, but some of them don't seem to make any sense +with the rest of what he says. But then, I'm glad he found me, +anyway," she finished with a contented little sigh. + +It was not long before the boy returned, his hands empty. + +"Come on, kid. All aboard," he called cheerily. "Now we'll hit the +trail for the Avenue. If I was the real thing, now, I'd tote ye home +in style in a buzzwagon; but seein' as how I hain't got the dough, +we'll have ter hoof it." + +It was, for the most part, a silent walk. Pollyanna, for once in her +life, was too tired to talk, even of the Ladies' Aiders; and the boy +was intent on picking out the shortest way to his goal. When the +Public Garden was reached, Pollyanna did exclaim joyfully: + +"Oh, now I'm 'most there! I remember this place. I had a perfectly +lovely time here this afternoon. It's only a little bit of a ways home +now." + +"That's the stuff! Now we're gettin' there," crowed the boy. "What'd I +tell ye? We'll just cut through here to the Avenue, an' then it'll be +up ter you ter find the house." + +"Oh, I can find the house," exulted Pollyanna, with all the confidence +of one who has reached familiar ground. + +It was quite dark when Pollyanna led the way up the broad Carew steps. +The boy's ring at the bell was very quickly answered, and Pollyanna +found herself confronted by not only Mary, but by Mrs. Carew, Bridget, +and Jennie as well. All four of the women were white-faced and +anxious-eyed. + +"Child, child, where HAVE you been?" demanded Mrs. Carew, hurrying +forward. + +"Why, I--I just went to walk," began Pollyanna, "and I got lost, and +this boy--" + +"Where did you find her?" cut in Mrs. Carew, turning imperiously to +Pollyanna's escort, who was, at the moment, gazing in frank admiration +at the wonders about him in the brilliantly-lighted hall. + +"Where did you find her, boy?" she repeated sharply. + +For a brief moment the boy met her gaze unflinchingly; then something +very like a twinkle came into his eyes, though his voice, when he +spoke, was gravity itself. + +"Well, I found her 'round Bowdoin Square, but I reckon she'd been +doin' the North End, only she couldn't catch on ter the lingo of the +Dagos, so I don't think she give 'em the glad hand, ma'am." + +"The North End--that child--alone! Pollyanna!" shuddered Mrs. Carew. + +"Oh, I wasn't alone, Mrs. Carew," fended Pollyanna. "There were ever +and ever so many people there, weren't there, boy?" + +But the boy, with an impish grin, was disappearing through the door. + +Pollyanna learned many things during the next half-hour. She learned +that nice little girls do not take long walks alone in unfamiliar +cities, nor sit on park benches and talk to strangers. She learned, +also, that it was only by a "perfectly marvelous miracle" that she had +reached home at all that night, and that she had escaped many, many +very disagreeable consequences of her foolishness. She learned that +Boston was not Beldingsville, and that she must not think it was. + +"But, Mrs. Carew," she finally argued despairingly, "I AM here, and I +didn't get lost for keeps. Seems as if I ought to be glad for that +instead of thinking all the time of the sorry things that might have +happened." + +"Yes, yes, child, I suppose so, I suppose so," sighed Mrs. Carew; "but +you have given me such a fright, and I want you to be sure, SURE, SURE +never to do it again. Now come, dear, you must be hungry." + +It was just as she was dropping off to sleep that night that Pollyanna +murmured drowsily to herself: + +"The thing I'm the very sorriest for of anything is that I didn't ask +that boy his name nor where he lived. Now I can't ever say thank you +to him!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +A NEW ACQUAINTANCE + + +Pollyanna's movements were most carefully watched over after her +adventurous walk; and, except to go to school, she was not allowed out +of the house unless Mary or Mrs. Carew herself accompanied her. This, +to Pollyanna, however, was no cross, for she loved both Mrs. Carew and +Mary, and delighted to be with them. They were, too, for a while, very +generous with their time. Even Mrs. Carew, in her terror of what might +have happened, and her relief that it had not happened, exerted +herself to entertain the child. + +Thus it came about that, with Mrs. Carew, Pollyanna attended concerts +and matinees, and visited the Public Library and the Art Museum; and +with Mary she took the wonderful "seeing Boston" trips, and visited +the State House and the Old South Church. + +Greatly as Pollyanna enjoyed the automobile, she enjoyed the trolley +cars more, as Mrs. Carew, much to her surprise, found out one day. + +"Do we go in the trolley car?" Pollyanna asked eagerly. + +"No. Perkins will take us," answered Mrs. Carew. Then, at the +unmistakable disappointment in Pollyanna's face, she added in +surprise: "Why, I thought you liked the auto, child!" + +"Oh, I do," acceded Pollyanna, hurriedly; "and I wouldn't say +anything, anyway, because of course I know it's cheaper than the +trolley car, and--" + +"'Cheaper than the trolley car'!" exclaimed Mrs. Carew, amazed into an +interruption. + +"Why, yes," explained Pollyanna, with widening eyes; "the trolley car +costs five cents a person, you know, and the auto doesn't cost +anything, 'cause it's yours. And of course I LOVE the auto, anyway," +she hurried on, before Mrs. Carew could speak. "It's only that there +are so many more people in the trolley car, and it's such fun to watch +them! Don't you think so?" + +"Well, no, Pollyanna, I can't say that I do," responded Mrs. Carew, +dryly, as she turned away. + +As it chanced, not two days later, Mrs. Carew heard something more of +Pollyanna and trolley cars--this time from Mary. + +"I mean, it's queer, ma'am," explained Mary earnestly, in answer to a +question her mistress had asked, "it's queer how Miss Pollyanna just +gets 'round EVERYBODY--and without half trying. It isn't that she DOES +anything. She doesn't. She just--just looks glad, I guess, that's all. +But I've seen her get into a trolley car that was full of +cross-looking men and women, and whimpering children, and in five +minutes you wouldn't know the place. The men and women have stopped +scowling, and the children have forgot what they're cryin' for. + +"Sometimes it's just somethin' that Miss Pollyanna has said to me, and +they've heard it. Sometimes it's just the 'Thank you,' she gives when +somebody insists on givin' us their seat--and they're always doin' +that--givin' us seats, I mean. And sometimes it's the way she smiles +at a baby or a dog. All dogs everywhere wag their tails at her, +anyway, and all babies, big and little, smile and reach out to her. If +we get held up it's a joke, and if we take the wrong car, it's the +funniest thing that ever happened. And that's the way 'tis about +everythin'. One just can't stay grumpy, with Miss Pollyanna, even if +you're only one of a trolley car full of folks that don't know her." + +"Hm-m; very likely," murmured Mrs. Carew, turning away. + +October proved to be, that year, a particularly warm, delightful +month, and as the golden days came and went, it was soon very evident +that to keep up with Pollyanna's eager little feet was a task which +would consume altogether too much of somebody's time and patience; +and, while Mrs. Carew had the one, she had not the other, neither had +she the willingness to allow Mary to spend quite so much of HER time +(whatever her patience might be) in dancing attendance to Pollyanna's +whims and fancies. + +To keep the child indoors all through those glorious October +afternoons was, of course, out of the question. Thus it came about +that, before long, Pollyanna found herself once more in the "lovely +big yard"--the Boston Public Garden--and alone. Apparently she was as +free as before, but in reality she was surrounded by a high stone wall +of regulations. + +She must not talk to strange men or women; she must not play with +strange children; and under no circumstances must she step foot +outside the Garden except to come home. Furthermore, Mary, who had +taken her to the Garden and left her, made very sure that she knew the +way home--that she knew just where Commonwealth Avenue came down to +Arlington Street across from the Garden. And always she must go home +when the clock in the church tower said it was half-past four. + +Pollyanna went often to the Garden after this. Occasionally she went +with some of the girls from school. More often she went alone. In +spite of the somewhat irksome restrictions she enjoyed herself very +much. She could WATCH the people even if she could not talk to them; +and she could talk to the squirrels and pigeons and sparrows that so +eagerly came for the nuts and grain which she soon learned to carry to +them every time she went. + +Pollyanna often looked for her old friends of that first day--the man +who was so glad he had his eyes and legs and arms, and the pretty +young lady who would not go with the handsome man; but she never saw +them. She did frequently see the boy in the wheel chair, and she +wished she could talk to him. The boy fed the birds and squirrels, +too, and they were so tame that the doves would perch on his head and +shoulders, and the squirrels would burrow in his pockets for nuts. But +Pollyanna, watching from a distance, always noticed one strange +circumstance: in spite of the boy's very evident delight in serving +his banquet, his supply of food always ran short almost at once; and +though he invariably looked fully as disappointed as did the squirrel +after a nutless burrowing, yet he never remedied the matter by +bringing more food the next day--which seemed most short-sighted to +Pollyanna. + +When the boy was not playing with the birds and squirrels he was +reading--always reading. In his chair were usually two or three worn +books, and sometimes a magazine or two. He was nearly always to be +found in one especial place, and Pollyanna used to wonder how he got +there. Then, one unforgettable day, she found out. It was a school +holiday, and she had come to the Garden in the forenoon; and it was +soon after she reached the place that she saw him being wheeled along +one of the paths by a snub-nosed, sandy-haired boy. She gave a keen +glance into the sandy-haired boy's face, then ran toward him with a +glad little cry. + +"Oh, you--you! I know you--even if I don't know your name. You found +me! Don't you remember? Oh, I'm so glad to see you! I've so wanted to +say thank you!" + +"Gee, if it ain't the swell little lost kid of the AveNOO!" grinned +the boy. "Well, what do you know about that! Lost again?" + +"Oh, no!" exclaimed Pollyanna, dancing up and down on her toes in +irrepressible joy. "I can't get lost any more--I have to stay right +here. And I mustn't talk, you know. But I can to you, for I KNOW you; +and I can to him--after you introduce me," she finished, with a +beaming glance at the lame boy, and a hopeful pause. + +The sandy-haired youth chuckled softly, and tapped the shoulder of the +boy in the chair. + +"Listen ter that, will ye? Ain't that the real thing, now? Just you +wait while I introDOOCE ye!" And he struck a pompous attitude. "Madam, +this is me friend, Sir James, Lord of Murphy's Alley, and--" But the +boy in the chair interrupted him. + +"Jerry, quit your nonsense!" he cried vexedly. Then to Pollyanna he +turned a, glowing face. "I've seen you here lots of times before. I've +watched you feed the birds and squirrels--you always have such a lot +for them! And I think YOU like Sir Lancelot the best, too. Of course, +there's the Lady Rowena--but wasn't she rude to Guinevere +yesterday--snatching her dinner right away from her like that?" + +Pollyanna blinked and frowned, looking from one to the other of the +boys in plain doubt. Jerry chuckled again. Then, with a final push he +wheeled the chair into its usual position, and turned to go. Over his +shoulder he called to Pollyanna: + +"Say, kid, jest let me put ye wise ter somethin'. This chap ain't +drunk nor crazy. See? Them's jest names he's give his young friends +here,"--with a flourish of his arms toward the furred and feathered +creatures that were gathering from all directions. "An' they ain't +even names of FOLKS. They're just guys out of books. Are ye on? Yet +he'd ruther feed them than feed hisself. Ain't he the limit? Ta-ta, +Sir James," he added, with a grimace, to the boy in the chair." Buck +up, now--nix on the no grub racket for you! See you later." And he was +gone. + +Pollyanna was still blinking and frowning when the lame boy turned +with a smile. + +"You mustn't mind Jerry. That's just his way. He'd cut off his right +hand for me--Jerry would; but he loves to tease. Where'd you see him? +Does he know you? He didn't tell me your name." + +"I'm Pollyanna Whittier. I was lost and he found me and took me home," +answered Pollyanna, still a little dazedly. + +"I see. Just like him," nodded the boy. "Don't he tote me up here +every day?" + +A quick sympathy came to Pollyanna's eyes. + +"Can't you walk--at all--er--Sir J-James?" + +The boy laughed gleefully. + +"'Sir James,' indeed! That's only more of Jerry's nonsense. I ain't a +'Sir.'" + +Pollyanna looked clearly disappointed. + +"You aren't? Nor a--a lord, like he said?" + +"I sure ain't." + +"Oh, I hoped you were--like Little Lord Fauntleroy, you know," +rejoined Pollyanna. "And--" + +But the boy interrupted her with an eager: + +"Do YOU know Little Lord Fauntleroy? And do you know about Sir +Lancelot, and the Holy Grail, and King Arthur and his Round Table, and +the Lady Rowena, and Ivanhoe, and all those? DO you?" + +Pollyanna gave her head a dubious shake. + +"Well, I'm afraid maybe I don't know ALL of 'em," she admitted. "Are +they all--in books?" + +The boy nodded. + +"I've got 'em here--some of 'em," he said. "I like to read 'em over +and over. There's always SOMETHING new in 'em. Besides, I hain't got +no others, anyway. These were father's. Here, you little rascal--quit +that!" he broke off in laughing reproof as a bushy-tailed squirrel +leaped to his lap and began to nose in his pockets. "Gorry, guess we'd +better give them their dinner or they'll be tryin' to eat us," +chuckled the boy. "That's Sir Lancelot. He's always first, you know." + +From somewhere the boy produced a small pasteboard box which he opened +guardedly, mindful of the numberless bright little eyes that were +watching every move. All about him now sounded the whir and flutter of +wings, the cooing of doves, the saucy twitter of the sparrows. Sir +Lancelot, alert and eager, occupied one arm of the wheel chair. +Another bushy-tailed little fellow, less venturesome, sat back on his +haunches five feet away. A third squirrel chattered noisily on a +neighboring tree-branch. + +From the box the boy took a few nuts, a small roll, and a doughnut. At +the latter he looked longingly, hesitatingly. + +"Did you--bring anything?" he asked then. + +"Lots--in here," nodded Pollyanna, tapping the paper bag she carried. + +"Oh, then perhaps I WILL eat it to-day," sighed the boy, dropping the +doughnut back into the box with an air of relief. + +Pollyanna, on whom the significance of this action was quite lost, +thrust her fingers into her own bag, and the banquet was on. + +It was a wonderful hour. To Pollyanna it was, in a way, the most +wonderful hour she had ever spent, for she had found some one who +could talk faster and longer than she could. This strange youth seemed +to have an inexhaustible fund of marvelous stories of brave knights +and fair ladies, of tournaments and battles. Moreover, so vividly did +he draw his pictures that Pollyanna saw with her own eyes the deeds of +valor, the knights in armor, and the fair ladies with their jeweled +gowns and tresses, even though she was really looking at a flock of +fluttering doves and sparrows and a group of frisking squirrels on a +wide sweep of sunlit grass. + +[Illustration: "It was a wonderful hour"] + +The Ladies' Aiders were forgotten. Even the glad game was not thought +of. Pollyanna, with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes was trailing +down the golden ages led by a romance-fed boy who--though she did not +know it--was trying to crowd into this one short hour of congenial +companionship countless dreary days of loneliness and longing. + +Not until the noon bells sent Pollyanna hurrying homeward did she +remember that she did not even yet know the boy's name. + +"I only know it isn't 'Sir James,'" she sighed to herself, frowning +with vexation. "But never mind. I can ask him to-morrow." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +JAMIE + + +Pollyanna did not see the boy "to-morrow." It rained, and she could +not go to the Garden at all. It rained the next day, too. Even on the +third day she did not see him, for, though the sun came out bright and +warm, and though she went very early in the afternoon to the Garden +and waited long, he did not come at all. But on the fourth day he was +there in his old place, and Pollyanna hastened forward with a joyous +greeting. + +"Oh, I'm so glad, GLAD to see you! But where've you been? You weren't +here yesterday at all." + +"I couldn't. The pain wouldn't let me come yesterday," explained the +lad, who was looking very white. + +"The PAIN! Oh, does it--ache?" stammered Pollyanna, all sympathy at +once. + +"Oh, yes, always," nodded the boy, with a cheerfully matter-of-fact +air. "Most generally I can stand it and come here just the same, +except when it gets TOO bad, same as 'twas yesterday. Then I can't." + +"But how can you stand it--to have it ache--always?" gasped Pollyanna. + +"Why, I have to," answered the boy, opening his eyes a little wider. +"Things that are so are SO, and they can't be any other way. So what's +the use thinking how they might be? Besides, the harder it aches one +day, the nicer 'tis to have it let-up the next." + +"I know! That's like the ga--" began Pollyanna; but the boy +interrupted her. + +"Did you bring a lot this time?" he asked anxiously. "Oh, I hope you +did! You see I couldn't bring them any to-day. Jerry couldn't spare +even a penny for peanuts this morning and there wasn't really enough +stuff in the box for me this noon." + +Pollyanna looked shocked. + +"You mean--that you didn't have enough to eat--yourself?--for YOUR +luncheon?" + +"Sure!" smiled the boy. "But don't worry. Tisn't the first time--and +'twon't be the last. I'm used to it. Hi, there! here comes Sir +Lancelot." + +Pollyanna, however, was not thinking of squirrels. + +"And wasn't there any more at home?" + +"Oh, no, there's NEVER any left at home," laughed the boy. "You see, +mumsey works out--stairs and washings--so she gets some of her feed in +them places, and Jerry picks his up where he can, except nights and +mornings; he gets it with us then--if we've got any." + +Pollyanna looked still more shocked. + +"But what do you do when you don't have anything to eat?" + +"Go hungry, of course." + +"But I never HEARD of anybody who didn't have ANYTHING to eat," gasped +Pollyanna. "Of course father and I were poor, and we had to eat beans +and fish balls when we wanted turkey. But we had SOMETHING. Why don't +you tell folks--all these folks everywhere, that live in these houses? +" + +"What's the use?" + +"Why, they'd give you something, of course!" + +The boy laughed once more, this time a little queerly. + +"Guess again, kid. You've got another one coming. Nobody I know is +dishin' out roast beef and frosted cakes for the askin'. Besides, if +you didn't go hungry once in a while, you wouldn't know how good +'taters and milk can taste; and you wouldn't have so much to put in +your Jolly Book." + +"Your WHAT?" + +The boy gave an embarrassed laugh and grew suddenly red. + +"Forget it! I didn't think, for a minute, but you was mumsey or +Jerry." + +"But what IS your Jolly Book?" pleaded Pollyanna. "Please tell me. Are +there knights and lords and ladies in that?" + +The boy shook his head. His eyes lost their laughter and grew dark and +fathomless. + +"No; I wish't there was," he sighed wistfully. "But when you--you +can't even WALK, you can't fight battles and win trophies, and have +fair ladies hand you your sword, and bestow upon you the golden +guerdon." A sudden fire came to the boy's eyes. His chin lifted itself +as if in response to a bugle call. Then, as suddenly, the fire died, +and the boy fell back into his old listlessness. + +"You just can't do nothin'," he resumed wearily, after a moment's +silence. "You just have to sit and think; and times like that your +THINK gets to be something awful. Mine did, anyhow. I wanted to go to +school and learn things--more things than just mumsey can teach me; +and I thought of that. I wanted to run and play ball with the other +boys; and I thought of that. I wanted to go out and sell papers with +Jerry; and I thought of that. I didn't want to be taken care of all my +life; and I thought of that." + +"I know, oh, I know," breathed Pollyanna, with shining eyes. "Didn't I +lose MY legs for a while?" + +"Did you? Then you do know, some. But you've got yours again. I +hain't, you know," sighed the boy, the shadow in his eyes deepening. + +"But you haven't told me yet about--the Jolly Book," prompted +Pollyanna, after a minute. + +The boy stirred and laughed shamefacedly. + +"Well, you see, it ain't much, after all, except to me. YOU wouldn't +see much in it. I started it a year ago. I was feelin' 'specially bad +that day. Nothin' was right. For a while I grumped it out, just +thinkin'; and then I picked up one of father's books and tried to +read. And the first thing I see was this: I learned it afterwards, so +I can say it now. + + "'Pleasures lie thickest where no pleasures seem; + There's not a leaf that falls upon the ground + But holds some joy, of silence or of sound.' + +[Footnote: Blanchard. Lyric Offerings. Hidden Joys.] + +"Well, I was mad. I wished I could put the guy that wrote that in my +place, and see what kind of joy he'd find in my 'leaves.' I was so mad +I made up my mind I'd prove he didn't know what he was talkin' about, +so I begun to hunt for 'em--the joys in my 'leaves,' you know. I took +a little old empty notebook that Jerry had given me, and I said to +myself that I'd write 'em down. Everythin' that had anythin' about it +that I liked I'd put down in the book. Then I'd just show how many +'joys' I had." + +"Yes, yes!" cried Pollyanna, absorbedly, as the boy paused for breath. + +"Well, I didn't expect to get many, but--do you know?--I got a lot. +There was somethin' about 'most everythin' that I liked a LITTLE, so +in it had to go. The very first one was the book itself--that I'd got +it, you know, to write in. Then somebody give me a flower in a pot, +and Jerry found a dandy book in the subway. After that it was really +fun to hunt 'em out--I'd find 'em in such queer places, sometimes. +Then one day Jerry got hold of the little notebook, and found out what +'twas. Then he give it its name--the Jolly Book. And--and that's all." + +"All--ALL!" cried Pollyanna, delight and amazement struggling for the +mastery on her glowing little face. "Why, that's the game! You're +playing the glad game, and don't know it--only you're playing it ever +and ever so much better than I ever could! Why, I--I couldn't play it +at all, I'm afraid, if I--I didn't have enough to eat, and couldn't +ever walk, or anything," she choked. + +"The game? What game? I don't know anything about any game," frowned +the boy. + +Pollyanna clapped her hands. + +"I know you don't--I know you don't, and that's why it's so perfectly +lovely, and so--so wonderful! But listen. I'll tell you what the game +is." + +And she told him. + +"Gee!" breathed the boy appreciatively, when she had finished. "Now +what do you think of that!" + +"And here you are, playing MY game better than anybody I ever saw, and +I don't even know your name yet, nor anything!" exclaimed Pollyanna, +in almost awestruck tones. "But I want to;--I want to know +everything." + +"Pooh! there's nothing to know," rejoined the boy, with a shrug. +"Besides, see, here's poor Sir Lancelot and all the rest, waiting for +their dinner," he finished. + +"Dear me, so they are," sighed Pollyanna, glancing impatiently at the +fluttering and chattering creatures all about them. Recklessly she +turned her bag upside down and scattered her supplies to the four +winds. "There, now, that's done, and we can talk again," she rejoiced. +"And there's such a lot I want to know. First, please, what IS your +name? I only know it isn't 'Sir James.'" + +The boy smiled. + +"No, it isn't; but that's what Jerry 'most always calls me. Mumsey and +the rest call me 'Jamie.'" + +"'JAMIE!'" Pollyanna caught her breath and held it suspended. A wild +hope had come to her eyes. It was followed almost instantly, however, +by fearful doubt. + +"Does 'mumsey' mean--mother?" + +"Sure!" + +Pollyanna relaxed visibly. Her face fell. If this Jamie had a mother, +he could not, of course, be Mrs. Carew's Jamie, whose mother had died +long ago. Still, even as he was, he was wonderfully interesting. + +"But where do you live?" she catechized eagerly. "Is there anybody +else in your family but your mother and--and Jerry? Do you always come +here every day? Where is your Jolly Book? Mayn't I see it? Don't the +doctors say you can ever walk again? And where was it you said you got +it?--this wheel chair, I mean." + +The boy chuckled. + +"Say, how many of them questions do you expect me to answer all at +once? I'll begin at the last one, anyhow, and work backwards, maybe, +if I don't forget what they be. I got this chair a year ago. Jerry +knew one of them fellers what writes for papers, you know, and he put +it in about me--how I couldn't ever walk, and all that, and--and the +Jolly Book, you see. The first thing I knew, a whole lot of men and +women come one day toting this chair, and said 'twas for me. That +they'd read all about me, and they wanted me to have it to remember +them by." + +"My! how glad you must have been!" + +"I was. It took a whole page of my Jolly Book to tell about that +chair." + +"But can't you EVER walk again?" Pollyanna's eyes were blurred with +tears. + +"It don't look like it. They said I couldn't." + +"Oh, but that's what they said about me, and then they sent me to Dr. +Ames, and I stayed 'most a year; and HE made me walk. Maybe he could +YOU!" + +The boy shook his head. + +"He couldn't--you see; I couldn't go to him, anyway. 'Twould cost too +much. We'll just have to call it that I can't ever--walk again. But +never mind." The boy threw back his head impatiently. "I'm trying not +to THINK of that. You know what it is when--when your THINK gets to +going." + +"Yes, yes, of course--and here I am talking about it!" cried +Pollyanna, penitently. "I SAID you knew how to play the game better +than I did, now. But go on. You haven't told me half, yet. Where do +you live? And is Jerry all the brothers and sisters you've got?" + +A swift change came to the boy's face. His eyes glowed. + +"Yes--and he ain't mine, really. He ain't any relation, nor mumsey +ain't, neither. And only think how good they've been to me!" + +"What's that?" questioned Pollyanna, instantly on the alert. "Isn't +that--that 'mumsey' your mother at all?" + +"No; and that's what makes--" + +"And haven't you got any mother?" interrupted Pollyanna, in growing +excitement. + +"No; I never remember any mother, and father died six years ago." + +"How old were you?" + +"I don't know. I was little. Mumsey says she guesses maybe I was about +six. That's when they took me, you see." + +"And your name is Jamie?" Pollyanna was holding her breath. + +"Why, yes, I told you that." + +"And what's the other name?" Longingly, but fearfully, Pollyanna asked +this question. + +"I don't know." + +"YOU DON'T KNOW!" + +"I don't remember. I was too little, I suppose. Even the Murphys don't +know. They never knew me as anything but Jamie." + +A great disappointment came to Pollyanna's face, but almost +immediately a flash of thought drove the shadow away. + +"Well, anyhow, if you don't know what your name is, you can't know it +isn't 'Kent'!" she exclaimed. + +"'Kent'?" puzzled the boy. + +"Yes," began Pollyanna, all excitement. "You see, there was a little +boy named Jamie Kent that--" She stopped abruptly and bit her lip. It +had occurred to Pollyanna that it would be kinder not to let this boy +know yet of her hope that he might be the lost Jamie. It would be +better that she make sure of it before raising any expectations, +otherwise she might be bringing him sorrow rather than joy. She had +not forgotten how disappointed Jimmy Bean had been when she had been +obliged to tell him that the Ladies' Aid did not want him, and again +when at first Mr. Pendleton had not wanted him, either. She was +determined that she would not make the same mistake a third time; so +very promptly now she assumed an air of elaborate indifference on this +most dangerous subject, as she said: + +"But never mind about Jamie Kent. Tell me about yourself. I'm SO +interested!" + +"There isn't anything to tell. I don't know anything nice," hesitated +the boy. "They said father was--was queer, and never talked. They +didn't even know his name. Everybody called him 'The Professor.' +Mumsey says he and I lived in a little back room on the top floor of +the house in Lowell where they used to live. They were poor then, but +they wasn't near so poor as they are now. Jerry's father was alive +them days, and had a job." + +"Yes, yes, go on," prompted Pollyanna. + +"Well, mumsey says my father was sick a lot, and he got queerer and +queerer, so that they had me downstairs with them a good deal. I could +walk then, a little, but my legs wasn't right. I played with Jerry, +and the little girl that died. Well, when father died there wasn't +anybody to take me, and some men were goin' to put me in an orphan +asylum; but mumsey says I took on so, and Jerry took on so, that they +said they'd keep me. And they did. The little girl had just died, and +they said I might take her place. And they've had me ever since. And I +fell and got worse, and they're awful poor now, too, besides Jerry's +father dyin'. But they've kept me. Now ain't that what you call bein' +pretty good to a feller?" + +"Yes, oh, yes," cried Pollyanna. "But they'll get their reward--I know +they'll get their reward!" Pollyanna was quivering with delight now. +The last doubt had fled. She had found the lost Jamie. She was sure of +it. But not yet must she speak. First Mrs. Carew must see him. +Then--THEN--! Even Pollyanna's imagination failed when it came to +picturing the bliss in store for Mrs. Carew and Jamie at that glad +reunion. + +She sprang lightly to her feet in utter disregard of Sir Lancelot who +had come back and was nosing in her lap for more nuts. + +"I've got to go now, but I'll come again to-morrow. Maybe I'll have a +lady with me that you'll like to know. You'll be here to-morrow, won't +you?" she finished anxiously. + +"Sure, if it's pleasant. Jerry totes me up here 'most every mornin'. +They fixed it so he could, you know; and I bring my dinner and stay +till four o'clock. Jerry's good to me--he is!" + +"I know, I know," nodded Pollyanna. "And maybe you'll find somebody +else to be good to you, too," she caroled. With which cryptic +statement and a beaming smile, she was gone. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +PLANS AND PLOTTINGS + + +On the way home Pollyanna made joyous plans. To-morrow, in some way or +other, Mrs. Carew must be persuaded to go with her for a walk in the +Public Garden. Just how this was to be brought about Pollyanna did not +know; but brought about it must be. + +To tell Mrs. Carew plainly that she had found Jamie, and wanted her to +go to see him, was out of the question. There was, of course, a bare +chance that this might not be her Jamie; and if it were not, and if +she had thus raised in Mrs. Carew false hopes, the result might be +disastrous. Pollyanna knew, from what Mary had told her, that twice +already Mrs. Carew had been made very ill by the great disappointment +of following alluring clues that had led to some boy very different +from her dead sister's son. So Pollyanna knew that she could not tell +Mrs. Carew why she wanted her to go to walk to-morrow in the Public +Garden. But there would be a way, declared Pollyanna to herself as she +happily hurried homeward. + +Fate, however, as it happened, once more intervened in the shape of a +heavy rainstorm; and Pollyanna did not have to more than look out of +doors the next morning to realize that there would be no Public Garden +stroll that day. Worse yet, neither the next day nor the next saw the +clouds dispelled; and Pollyanna spent all three afternoons wandering +from window to window, peering up into the sky, and anxiously +demanding of every one: "DON'T you think it looks a LITTLE like +clearing up?" + +So unusual was this behavior on the part of the cheery little girl, +and so irritating was the constant questioning, that at last Mrs. +Carew lost her patience. + +"For pity's sake, child, what is the trouble?" she cried. "I never +knew you to fret so about the weather. Where's that wonderful glad +game of yours to-day?" + +Pollyanna reddened and looked abashed. + +"Dear me, I reckon maybe I did forget the game this time," she +admitted. "And of course there IS something about it I can be glad +for, if I'll only hunt for it. I can be glad that--that it will HAVE +to stop raining sometime 'cause God said he WOULDN'T send another +flood. But you see, I did so want it to be pleasant to-day." + +"Why, especially?" + +"Oh, I--I just wanted to go to walk in the Public Garden." Pollyanna +was trying hard to speak unconcernedly. "I--I thought maybe you'd like +to go with me, too." Outwardly Pollyanna was nonchalance itself. +Inwardly, however, she was aquiver with excitement and suspense. + +"_I_ go to walk in the Public Garden?" queried Mrs. Carew, with brows +slightly uplifted. "Thank you, no, I'm afraid not," she smiled. + +"Oh, but you--you wouldn't REFUSE!" faltered Pollyanna, in quick +panic. + +"I have refused." + +Pollyanna swallowed convulsively. She had grown really pale. + +"But, Mrs. Carew, please, PLEASE don't say you WON'T go, when it gets +pleasant," she begged. "You see, for a--a special reason I wanted you +to go--with me--just this once." + +Mrs. Carew frowned. She opened her lips to make the "no" more +decisive; but something in Pollyanna's pleading eyes must have changed +the words, for when they came they were a reluctant acquiescence. + +"Well, well, child, have your own way. But if I promise to go, YOU +must promise not to go near the window for an hour, and not to ask +again to-day if I think it's going to clear up." + +"Yes'm, I will--I mean, I won't," palpitated Pollyanna. Then, as a +pale shaft of light that was almost a sunbeam, came aslant through the +window, she cried joyously: "But you DO think it IS going to--Oh!" she +broke off in dismay, and ran from the room. + +Unmistakably it "cleared up" the next morning. But, though the sun +shone brightly, there was a sharp chill in the air, and by afternoon, +when Pollyanna came home from school, there was a brisk wind. In spite +of protests, however, she insisted that it was a beautiful day out, +and that she should be perfectly miserable if Mrs. Carew would not +come for a walk in the Public Garden. And Mrs. Carew went, though +still protesting. + +As might have been expected, it was a fruitless journey. Together the +impatient woman and the anxious-eyed little girl hurried shiveringly +up one path and down another. (Pollyanna, not finding the boy in his +accustomed place, was making frantic search in every nook and corner +of the Garden. To Pollyanna it seemed that she could not have it so. +Here she was in the Garden, and here with her was Mrs. Carew; but not +anywhere to be found was Jamie--and yet not one word could she say to +Mrs. Carew.) At last, thoroughly chilled and exasperated, Mrs. Carew +insisted on going home; and despairingly Pollyanna went. + +Sorry days came to Pollyanna then. What to her was perilously near a +second deluge--but according to Mrs. Carew was merely "the usual fall +rains"--brought a series of damp, foggy, cold, cheerless days, filled +with either a dreary drizzle of rain, or, worse yet, a steady +downpour. If perchance occasionally there came a day of sunshine, +Pollyanna always flew to the Garden; but in vain. Jamie was never +there. It was the middle of November now, and even the Garden itself +was full of dreariness. The trees were bare, the benches almost empty, +and not one boat was on the little pond. True, the squirrels and +pigeons were there, and the sparrows were as pert as ever, but to feed +them was almost more of a sorrow than a joy, for every saucy switch of +Sir Lancelot's feathery tail but brought bitter memories of the lad +who had given him his name--and who was not there. + +"And to think I didn't find out where he lived!" mourned Pollyanna to +herself over and over again, as the days passed. "And he was Jamie--I +just know he was Jamie. And now I'll have to wait and wait till spring +comes, and it's warm enough for him to come here again. And then, +maybe, _I_ sha'n't be coming here by that time. O dear, O dear--and he +WAS Jamie, I know he was Jamie!" + +Then, one dreary afternoon, the unexpected happened. Pollyanna, +passing through the upper hallway heard angry voices in the hall +below, one of which she recognized as being Mary's, while the +other--the other-- + +The other voice was saying: + +"Not on yer life! It's nix on the beggin' business. Do yer get me? I +wants ter see the kid, Pollyanna. I got a message for her from--from +Sir James. Now beat it, will ye, and trot out the kid, if ye don't +mind." + +With a glad little cry Pollyanna turned and fairly flew down the +stairway. + +"Oh, I'm here, I'm here, I'm right here!" she panted, stumbling +forward. "What is it? Did Jamie send you?" + +In her excitement she had almost flung herself with outstretched arms +upon the boy when Mary intercepted a shocked, restraining hand. + +"Miss Pollyanna, Miss Pollyanna, do you mean to say you know +this--this beggar boy?" + +The boy flushed angrily; but before he could speak Pollyanna +interposed valiant championship. + +"He isn't a beggar boy. He belongs to one of my very best friends. +Besides, he's the one that found me and brought me home that time I +was lost." Then to the boy she turned with impetuous questioning. +"What is it? Did Jamie send you?" + +"Sure he did. He hit the hay a month ago, and he hain't been up +since." + +"He hit--what?" puzzled Pollyanna. + +"Hit the hay--went ter bed. He's sick, I mean, and he wants ter see +ye. Will ye come?" + +"Sick? Oh, I'm so sorry!" grieved Pollyanna. "Of course I'll come. +I'll go get my hat and coat right away." + +"Miss Pollyanna!" gasped Mary in stern disapproval. "As if Mrs. Carew +would let you go--ANYWHERE with a strange boy like this!" + +"But he isn't a strange boy," objected Pollyanna. "I've known him ever +so long, and I MUST go. I--" + +"What in the world is the meaning of this?" demanded Mrs. Carew icily +from the drawing-room doorway. "Pollyanna, who is this boy, and what +is he doing here?" + +Pollyanna turned with a quick cry. + +"Oh, Mrs. Carew, you'll let me go, won't you?" + +"Go where?" + +"To see my brother, ma'am," cut in the boy hurriedly, and with an +obvious effort to be very polite. "He's sort of off his feed, ye know, +and he wouldn't give me no peace till I come up--after her," with an +awkward gesture toward Pollyanna. "He thinks a sight an' all of her." + +"I may go, mayn't I?" pleaded Pollyanna. + +Mrs. Carew frowned. + +"Go with this boy--YOU? Certainly not, Pollyanna! I wonder you are +wild enough to think of it for a moment." + +"Oh, but I want you to come, too," began Pollyanna. + +"I? Absurd, child! That is impossible. You may give this boy here a +little money, if you like, but--" + +"Thank ye, ma'am, but I didn't come for money," resented the boy, his +eyes flashing. "I come for--her." + +"Yes, and Mrs. Carew, it's Jerry--Jerry Murphy, the boy that found me +when I was lost, and brought me home," appealed Pollyanna. "NOW won't +you let me go?" + +Mrs. Carew shook her head. + +"It is out of the question, Pollyanna." + +"But he says Ja-- --the other boy is sick, and wants me!" + +"I can't help that." + +"And I know him real well, Mrs. Carew. I do, truly. He reads +books--lovely books, all full of knights and lords and ladies, and he +feeds the birds and squirrels and gives 'em names, and everything. And +he can't walk, and he doesn't have enough to eat, lots of days," +panted Pollyanna; "and he's been playing my glad game for a year, and +didn't know it. And he plays it ever and ever so much better than I +do. And I've hunted and hunted for him, ever and ever so many days. +Honest and truly, Mrs. Carew, I've just GOT to see him," almost sobbed +Pollyanna. "I can't lose him again!" + +An angry color flamed into Mrs. Carew's cheeks. + +"Pollyanna, this is sheer nonsense. I am surprised. I am amazed at you +for insisting upon doing something you know I disapprove of. I CAN NOT +allow you to go with this boy. Now please let me hear no more about +it." + +A new expression came to Pollyanna's face. With a look half-terrified, +half-exalted, she lifted her chin and squarely faced Mrs. Carew. +Tremulously, but determinedly, she spoke. + +"Then I'll have to tell you. I didn't mean to--till I was sure. I +wanted you to see him first. But now I've got to tell. I can't lose +him again. I think, Mrs. Carew, he's--Jamie." + +"Jamie! Not--my--Jamie!" Mrs. Carew's face had grown very white. + +"Yes." + +"Impossible!" + +"I know; but, please, his name IS Jamie, and he doesn't know the other +one. His father died when he was six years old, and he can't remember +his mother. He's twelve years old, he thinks. These folks took him in +when his father died, and his father was queer, and didn't tell folks +his name, and--" + +But Mrs. Carew had stopped her with a gesture. Mrs. Carew was even +whiter than before, but her eyes burned with a sudden fire. + +"We'll go at once," she said. "Mary, tell Perkins to have the car here +as soon as possible. Pollyanna, get your hat and coat. Boy, wait here, +please. We'll be ready to go with you immediately." The next minute +she had hurried up-stairs. + +In the hall the boy drew a long breath. + +"Gee whiz!" he muttered softly. "If we ain't goin' ter go in a +buzz-wagon! Some class ter that! Gorry! what'll Sir James say?" + + + + +CHAPTER X + +IN MURPHY'S ALLEY + + +With the opulent purr that seems to be peculiar to luxurious +limousines, Mrs. Carew's car rolled down Commonwealth Avenue and out +upon Arlington Street to Charles. Inside sat a shining-eyed little +girl and a white-faced, tense woman. Outside, to give directions to +the plainly disapproving chauffeur, sat Jerry Murphy, inordinately +proud and insufferably important. + +When the limousine came to a stop before a shabby doorway in a narrow, +dirty alley, the boy leaped to the ground, and, with a ridiculous +imitation of the liveried pomposities he had so often watched, threw +open the door of the car and stood waiting for the ladies to alight. + +Pollyanna sprang out at once, her eyes widening with amazement and +distress as she looked about her. Behind her came Mrs. Carew, visibly +shuddering as her gaze swept the filth, the sordidness, and the ragged +children that swarmed shrieking and chattering out of the dismal +tenements, and surrounded the car in a second. + +Jerry waved his arms angrily. + +"Here, you, beat it!" he yelled to the motley throng. "This ain't no +free movies! CAN that racket and get a move on ye. Lively, now! We +gotta get by. Jamie's got comp'ny." + +Mrs. Carew shuddered again, and laid a trembling hand on Jerry's +shoulder. + +"Not--HERE!" she recoiled. + +But the boy did not hear. With shoves and pushes from sturdy fists and +elbows, he was making a path for his charges; and before Mrs. Carew +knew quite how it was done, she found herself with the boy and +Pollyanna at the foot of a rickety flight of stairs in a dim, +evil-smelling hallway. + +Once more she put out a shaking hand. + +"Wait," she commanded huskily. "Remember! Don't either of you say a +word about--about his being possibly the boy I'm looking for. I must +see for myself first, and--question him." + +"Of course!" agreed Pollyanna. + +"Sure! I'm on," nodded the boy. "I gotta go right off anyhow, so I +won't bother ye none. Now toddle easy up these 'ere stairs. There's +always holes, and most generally there's a kid or two asleep +somewheres. An' the elevator ain't runnin' ter-day," he gibed +cheerfully. "We gotta go ter the top, too!" + +Mrs. Carew found the "holes"--broken boards that creaked and bent +fearsomely under her shrinking feet; and she found one "kid"--a +two-year-old baby playing with an empty tin can on a string which he +was banging up and down the second flight of stairs. On all sides +doors were opened, now boldly, now stealthily, but always disclosing +women with tousled heads or peering children with dirty faces. +Somewhere a baby was wailing piteously. Somewhere else a man was +cursing. Everywhere was the smell of bad whiskey, stale cabbage, and +unwashed humanity. + +At the top of the third and last stairway the boy came to a pause +before a closed door. + +"I'm just a-thinkin' what Sir James'll say when he's wise ter the +prize package I'm bringin' him," he whispered in a throaty voice. "I +know what mumsey'll do--she'll turn on the weeps in no time ter see +Jamie so tickled." The next moment he threw wide the door with a gay: +"Here we be--an' we come in a buzz-wagon! Ain't that goin' some, Sir +James?" + +It was a tiny room, cold and cheerless and pitifully bare, but +scrupulously neat. There were here no tousled heads, no peering +children, no odors of whiskey, cabbage, and unclean humanity. There +were two beds, three broken chairs, a dry-goods-box table, and a stove +with a faint glow of light that told of a fire not nearly brisk enough +to heat even that tiny room. On one of the beds lay a lad with flushed +cheeks and fever-bright eyes. Near him sat a thin, white-faced woman, +bent and twisted with rheumatism. + +Mrs. Carew stepped into the room and, as if to steady herself, paused +a minute with her back to the wall. Pollyanna hurried forward with a +low cry just as Jerry, with an apologetic "I gotta go now; good-by!" +dashed through the door. + +"Oh, Jamie, I'm so glad I've found you," cried Pollyanna. "You don't +know how I've looked and looked for you every day. But I'm so sorry +you're sick!" + +Jamie smiled radiantly and held out a thin white hand. + +"I ain't sorry--I'm GLAD," he emphasized meaningly; "'cause it's +brought you to see me. Besides, I'm better now, anyway. Mumsey, this +is the little girl, you know, that told me the glad game--and mumsey's +playing it, too," he triumphed, turning back to Pollyanna. "First she +cried 'cause her back hurts too bad to let her work; then when I was +took worse she was GLAD she couldn't work, 'cause she could be here to +take care of me, you know." + +At that moment Mrs. Carew hurried forward, her eyes half-fearfully, +half-longingly on the face of the lame boy in the bed. + +"It's Mrs. Carew. I've brought her to see you, Jamie," introduced +Pollyanna, in a tremulous voice. + +The little twisted woman by the bed had struggled to her feet by this +time, and was nervously offering her chair. Mrs. Carew accepted it +without so much as a glance. Her eyes were still on the boy in the +bed. + +"Your name is--Jamie?" she asked, with visible difficulty. + +"Yes, ma'am." The boy's bright eyes looked straight into hers. + +"What is your other name?" + +"I don't know." + +"He is not your son?" For the first time Mrs. Carew turned to the +twisted little woman who was still standing by the bed. + +"No, madam." + +"And you don't know his name?" + +"No, madam. I never knew it." + +With a despairing gesture Mrs. Carew turned back to the boy. + +"But think, think--don't you remember ANYTHING of your name +but--Jamie?" + +The boy shook his head. Into his eyes was coming a puzzled wonder. + +"No, nothing." + +"Haven't you anything that belonged to your father, with possibly his +name in it?" + +"There wasn't anythin' worth savin' but them books," interposed Mrs. +Murphy. "Them's his. Maybe you'd like to look at 'em," she suggested, +pointing to a row of worn volumes on a shelf across the room. Then, in +plainly uncontrollable curiosity, she asked: "Was you thinkin' you +knew him, ma'am?" + +"I don't know," murmured Mrs. Carew, in a half-stifled voice, as she +rose to her feet and crossed the room to the shelf of books. + +There were not many--perhaps ten or a dozen. There was a volume of +Shakespeare's plays, an "Ivanhoe," a much-thumbed "Lady of the Lake," +a book of miscellaneous poems, a coverless "Tennyson," a dilapidated +"Little Lord Fauntleroy," and two or three books of ancient and +medieval history. But, though Mrs. Carew looked carefully through +every one, she found nowhere any written word. With a despairing sigh +she turned back to the boy and to the woman, both of whom now were +watching her with startled, questioning eyes. + +"I wish you'd tell me--both of you--all you know about yourselves," +she said brokenly, dropping herself once more into the chair by the +bed. + +And they told her. It was much the same story that Jamie had told +Pollyanna in the Public Garden. There was little that was new, nothing +that was significant, in spite of the probing questions that Mrs. +Carew asked. At its conclusion Jamie turned eager eyes on Mrs. Carew's +face. + +"Do you think you knew--my father?" he begged. + +Mrs. Carew closed her eyes and pressed her hand to her head. + +"I don't--know," she answered. "But I think--not." + +Pollyanna gave a quick cry of keen disappointment, but as quickly she +suppressed it in obedience to Mrs. Carew's warning glance. With new +horror, however, she surveyed the tiny room. + +Jamie, turning his wondering eyes from Mrs. Carew's face, suddenly +awoke to his duties as host. + +"Wasn't you good to come!" he said to Pollyanna, gratefully. "How's +Sir Lancelot? Do you ever go to feed him now?" Then, as Pollyanna did +not answer at once, he hurried on, his eyes going from her face to the +somewhat battered pink in a broken-necked bottle in the window. "Did +you see my posy? Jerry found it. Somebody dropped it and he picked it +up. Ain't it pretty? And it SMELLS a little." + +But Pollyanna did not seem even to have heard him. She was still +gazing, wide-eyed about the room, clasping and unclasping her hands +nervously. + +"But I don't see how you can ever play the game here at all, Jamie," +she faltered. "I didn't suppose there could be anywhere such a +perfectly awful place to live," she shuddered. + +"Ho!" scoffed Jamie, valiantly. "You'd oughter see the Pikes' +down-stairs. Theirs is a whole lot worse'n this. You don't know what a +lot of nice things there is about this room. Why, we get the sun in +that winder there for 'most two hours every day, when it shines. And +if you get real near it you can see a whole lot of sky from it. If we +could only KEEP the room!--but you see we've got to leave, we're +afraid. And that's what's worrin' us." + +"Leave!" + +"Yes. We got behind on the rent--mumsey bein' sick so, and not earnin' +anythin'." In spite of a courageously cheerful smile, Jamie's voice +shook. "Mis' Dolan down-stairs--the woman what keeps my wheel chair +for me, you know--is helpin' us out this week. But of course she can't +do it always, and then we'll have to go--if Jerry don't strike it +rich, or somethin'." + +"Oh, but can't we--" began Pollyanna. + +She stopped short. Mrs. Carew had risen to her feet abruptly with a +hurried: + +"Come, Pollyanna, we must go." Then to the woman she turned wearily. +"You won't have to leave. I'll send you money and food at once, and +I'll mention your case to one of the charity organizations in which I +am interested, and they will--" + +In surprise she ceased speaking. The bent little figure of the woman +opposite had drawn itself almost erect. Mrs. Murphy's cheeks were +flushed. Her eyes showed a smouldering fire. + +"Thank you, no, Mrs. Carew," she said tremulously, but proudly. "We're +poor--God knows; but we ain't charity folks." + +"Nonsense!" cried Mrs. Carew, sharply. "You're letting the woman +down-stairs help you. This boy said so." + +"I know; but that ain't charity," persisted the woman, still +tremulously. "Mrs. Dolan is my FRIEND. She knows I'D do HER a good +turn just as quick--I have done 'em for her in times past. Help from +FRIENDS ain't charity. They CARE; and that--that makes a difference. +We wa'n't always as we are now, you see; and that makes it hurt all +the more--all this. Thank you; but we couldn't take--your money." + +Mrs. Carew frowned angrily. It had been a most disappointing, +heart-breaking, exhausting hour for her. Never a patient woman, she +was exasperated now, besides being utterly tired out. + +"Very well, just as you please," she said coldly. Then, with vague +irritation she added: "But why don't you go to your landlord and +insist that he make you even decently comfortable while you do stay? +Surely you're entitled to something besides broken windows stuffed +with rags and papers! And those stairs that I came up are positively +dangerous." + +Mrs. Murphy sighed in a discouraged way. Her twisted little figure had +fallen back into its old hopelessness. + +"We have tried to have something done, but it's never amounted to +anything. We never see anybody but the agent, of course; and he says +the rents are too low for the owner to put out any more money on +repairs." + +"Nonsense!" snapped Mrs. Carew, with all the sharpness of a nervous, +distraught woman who has at last found an outlet for her exasperation. +"It's shameful! What's more, I think it's a clear case of violation of +the law;--those stairs are, certainly. I shall make it my business to +see that he's brought to terms. What is the name of that agent, and +who is the owner of this delectable establishment?" + +"I don't know the name of the owner, madam; but the agent is Mr. +Dodge." + +"Dodge!" Mrs. Carew turned sharply, an odd look on her face. "You +don't mean--Henry Dodge?" + +"Yes, madam. His name is Henry, I think." + +A flood of color swept into Mrs. Carew's face, then receded, leaving +it whiter than before. + +"Very well, I--I'll attend to it," she murmured, in a half-stifled +voice, turning away. "Come, Pollyanna, we must go now." + +Over at the bed Pollyanna was bidding Jamie a tearful good-by. + +"But I'll come again. I'll come real soon," she promised brightly, as +she hurried through the door after Mrs. Carew. + +Not until they had picked their precarious way down the three long +flights of stairs and through the jabbering, gesticulating crowd of +men, women, and children that surrounded the scowling Perkins and the +limousine, did Pollyanna speak again. But then she scarcely waited for +the irate chauffeur to slam the door upon them before she pleaded: + +"Dear Mrs. Carew, please, please say that it was Jamie! Oh, it would +be so nice for him to be Jamie." + +"But he isn't Jamie!" + +"O dear! Are you sure?" + +There was a moment's pause, then Mrs. Carew covered her face with her +hands. + +"No, I'm not sure--and that's the tragedy of it," she moaned. "I don't +think he is; I'm almost positive he isn't. But, of course, there IS a +chance--and that's what's killing me." + +"Then can't you just THINK he's Jamie," begged Pollyanna, "and play he +was? Then you could take him home, and--" But Mrs. Carew turned +fiercely. + +"Take that boy into my home when he WASN'T Jamie? Never, Pollyanna! I +couldn't." + +"But if you CAN'T help Jamie, I should think you'd be so glad there +was some one like him you COULD help," urged Pollyanna, tremulously. +"What if your Jamie was like this Jamie, all poor and sick, wouldn't +you want some one to take him in and comfort him, and--" +"Don't--don't, Pollyanna," moaned Mrs. Carew, turning her head from +side to side, in a frenzy of grief. "When I think that maybe, +somewhere, our Jamie is like that--" Only a choking sob finished the +sentence. + +"That's just what I mean--that's just what I mean!" triumphed +Pollyanna, excitedly. "Don't you see? If this IS your Jamie, of course +you'll want him; and if it isn't, you couldn't be doing any harm to +the other Jamie by taking this one, and you'd do a whole lot of good, +for you'd make this one so happy--so happy! And then, by and by, if +you should find the real Jamie, you wouldn't have lost anything, but +you'd have made two little boys happy instead of one; and--" But again +Mrs. Carew interrupted her. + +"Don't, Pollyanna, don't! I want to think--I want to think." + +Tearfully Pollyanna sat back in her seat. By a very visible effort she +kept still for one whole minute. Then, as if the words fairly bubbled +forth of themselves, there came this: + +"Oh, but what an awful, awful place that was! I just wish the man that +owned it had to live in it himself--and then see what he'd have to be +glad for!" + +Mrs. Carew sat suddenly erect. Her face showed a curious change. +Almost as if in appeal she flung out her hand toward Pollyanna. + +"Don't!" she cried. "Perhaps--she didn't know, Pollyanna. Perhaps she +didn't know. I'm sure she didn't know--she owned a place like that. +But it will be fixed now--it will be fixed." + +"SHE! Is it a woman that owns it, and do you know her? And do you know +the agent, too?" + +"Yes." Mrs. Carew bit her lips. "I know her, and I know the agent." + +"Oh, I'm so glad," sighed Pollyanna. "Then it'll be all right now." + +"Well, it certainly will be--better," avowed Mrs. Carew with emphasis, +as the car stopped before her own door. + +Mrs. Carew spoke as if she knew what she was talking about. And +perhaps, indeed, she did--better than she cared to tell Pollyanna. +Certainly, before she slept that night, a letter left her hands +addressed to one Henry Dodge, summoning him to an immediate conference +as to certain changes and repairs to be made at once in tenements she +owned. There were, moreover, several scathing sentences concerning +"rag-stuffed windows," and "rickety stairways," that caused this same +Henry Dodge to scowl angrily, and to say a sharp word behind his +teeth--though at the same time he paled with something very like fear. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +A SURPRISE FOR MRS. CAREW + + +The matter of repairs and improvements having been properly and +efficiently attended to, Mrs. Carew told herself that she had done her +duty, and that the matter was closed. She would forget it. The boy was +not Jamie--he could not be Jamie. That ignorant, sickly, crippled boy +her dead sister's son? Impossible! She would cast the whole thing from +her thoughts. + +It was just here, however, that Mrs. Carew found herself against an +immovable, impassable barrier: the whole thing refused to be cast from +her thoughts. Always before her eyes was the picture of that bare +little room and the wistful-faced boy. Always in her ears was that +heartbreaking "What if it WERE Jamie?" And always, too, there was +Pollyanna; for even though Mrs. Carew might (as she did) silence the +pleadings and questionings of the little girl's tongue, there was no +getting away from the prayers and reproaches of the little girl's +eyes. + +Twice again in desperation Mrs. Carew went to see the boy, telling +herself each time that only another visit was needed to convince her +that the boy was not the one she sought. But, even though while there +in the boy's presence, she told herself that she WAS convinced, once +away from it, the old, old questioning returned. At last, in still +greater desperation, she wrote to her sister, and told her the whole +story. + +"I had not meant to tell you," she wrote, after she had stated the +bare facts of the case. "I thought it a pity to harrow you up, or to +raise false hopes. I am so sure it is not he--and yet, even as I write +these words, I know I am NOT sure. That is why I want you to come--why +you must come. I must have you see him. + +"I wonder--oh, I wonder what you'll say! Of course we haven't seen our +Jamie since he was four years old. He would be twelve now. This boy is +twelve, I should judge. (He doesn't know his age.) He has hair and +eyes not unlike our Jamie's. He is crippled, but that condition came +upon him through a fall, six years ago, and was made worse through +another one four years later. Anything like a complete description of +his father's appearance seems impossible to obtain; but what I have +learned contains nothing conclusive either for or against his being +poor Doris's husband. He was called 'the Professor,' was very queer, +and seemed to own nothing save a few books. This might, or might not +signify. John Kent was certainly always queer, and a good deal of a +Bohemian in his tastes. Whether he cared for books or not I don't +remember. Do you? And of course the title 'Professor' might easily +have been assumed, if he wished, or it might have been merely given +him by others. As for this boy--I don't know, I don't know--but I do +hope YOU will! + + "Your distracted sister, + + "RUTH." + +Della came at once, and she went immediately to see the boy; but she +did not "know." Like her sister, she said she did not think it was +their Jamie, but at the same time there was that chance--it might be +he, after all. Like Pollyanna, however, she had what she thought was a +very satisfactory way out of the dilemma. + +"But why don't you take him, dear?" she proposed to her sister. "Why +don't you take him and adopt him? It would be lovely for him--poor +little fellow--and--" But Mrs. Carew shuddered and would not even let +her finish. + +"No, no, I can't, I can't!" she moaned. "I want my Jamie, my own +Jamie--or no one." And with a sigh Della gave it up and went back to +her nursing. + +If Mrs. Carew thought that this closed the matter, however, she was +again mistaken; for her days were still restless, and her nights were +still either sleepless or filled with dreams of a "may be" or a "might +be" masquerading as an "it is so." She was, moreover, having a +difficult time with Pollyanna. + +Pollyanna was puzzled. She was filled with questionings and unrest. +For the first time in her life Pollyanna had come face to face with +real poverty. She knew people who did not have enough to eat, who wore +ragged clothing, and who lived in dark, dirty, and very tiny rooms. +Her first impulse, of course, had been "to help." With Mrs. Carew she +made two visits to Jamie, and greatly did she rejoice at the changed +conditions she found there after "that man Dodge" had "tended to +things." But this, to Pollyanna, was a mere drop in the bucket. There +were yet all those other sick-looking men, unhappy-looking women, and +ragged children out in the street--Jamie's neighbors. Confidently she +looked to Mrs. Carew for help for them, also. + +"Indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Carew, when she learned what was expected of +her, "so you want the whole street to be supplied with fresh paper, +paint, and new stairways, do you? Pray, is there anything else you'd +like?" + +"Oh, yes, lots of things," sighed Pollyanna, happily. "You see, there +are so many things they need--all of them! And what fun it will be to +get them! How I wish I was rich so I could help, too; but I'm 'most as +glad to be with you when you get them." + +Mrs. Carew quite gasped aloud in her amazement. She lost no +time--though she did lose not a little patience--in explaining that +she had no intention of doing anything further in "Murphy's Alley," +and that there was no reason why she should. No one would expect her +to. She had canceled all possible obligations, and had even been +really very generous, any one would say, in what she had done for the +tenement where lived Jamie and the Murphys. (That she owned the +tenement building she did not think it necessary to state.) At some +length she explained to Pollyanna that there were charitable +institutions, both numerous and efficient, whose business it was to +aid all the worthy poor, and that to these institutions she gave +frequently and liberally. + +Even then, however, Pollyanna was not convinced. + +"But I don't see," she argued, "why it's any better, or even so nice, +for a whole lot of folks to club together and do what everybody would +like to do for themselves. I'm sure I'd much rather give Jamie a--a +nice book, now, than to have some old Society do it; and I KNOW he'd +like better to have me do it, too." + +"Very likely," returned Mrs. Carew, with some weariness and a little +exasperation. "But it is just possible that it would not be so well +for Jamie as--as if that book were given by a body of people who knew +what sort of one to select." + +This led her to say much, also (none of which Pollyanna in the least +understood), about "pauperizing the poor," the "evils of +indiscriminate giving," and the "pernicious effect of unorganized +charity." + +"Besides," she added, in answer to the still perplexed expression on +Pollyanna's worried little face, "very likely if I offered help to +these people they would not take it. You remember Mrs. Murphy +declined, at the first, to let me send food and clothing--though they +accepted it readily enough from their neighbors on the first floor, it +seems." + +"Yes, I know," sighed Pollyanna, turning away. "There's something +there somehow that I don't understand. But it doesn't seem right that +WE should have such a lot of nice things, and that THEY shouldn't have +anything, hardly." + +As the days passed, this feeling on the part of Pollyanna increased +rather than diminished; and the questions she asked and the comments +she made were anything but a relief to the state of mind in which Mrs. +Carew herself was. Even the test of the glad game, in this case, +Pollyanna was finding to be very near a failure; for, as she expressed +it: + +"I don't see how you can find anything about this poor-people business +to be glad for. Of course we can be glad for ourselves that we aren't +poor like them; but whenever I'm thinking how glad I am for that, I +get so sorry for them that I CAN'T be glad any longer. Of course we +COULD be glad there were poor folks, because we could help them. But +if we DON'T help them, where's the glad part of that coming in?" And +to this Pollyanna could find no one who could give her a satisfactory +answer. + +Especially she asked this question of Mrs. Carew; and Mrs. Carew, +still haunted by the visions of the Jamie that was, and the Jamie that +might be, grew only more restless, more wretched, and more utterly +despairing. Nor was she helped any by the approach of Christmas. +Nowhere was there glow of holly or flash of tinsel that did not carry +its pang to her; for always to Mrs. Carew it but symbolized a child's +empty stocking--a stocking that might be--Jamie's. + +Finally, a week before Christmas, she fought what she thought was the +last battle with herself. Resolutely, but with no real joy in her +face, she gave terse orders to Mary, and summoned Pollyanna. + +"Pollyanna," she began, almost harshly, "I have decided to--to take +Jamie. The car will be here at once. I'm going after him now, and +bring him home. You may come with me if you like." + +A great light transfigured Pollyanna's face. + +"Oh, oh, oh, how glad I am!" she breathed. "Why, I'm so glad I--I want +to cry! Mrs. Carew, why is it, when you're the very gladdest of +anything, you always want to cry?" + +"I don't know, I'm sure, Pollyanna," rejoined Mrs. Carew, +abstractedly. On Mrs. Carew's face there was still no look of joy. + +Once in the Murphys' little one-room tenement, it did not take Mrs. +Carew long to tell her errand. In a few short sentences she told the +story of the lost Jamie, and of her first hopes that this Jamie might +be he. She made no secret of her doubts that he was the one; at the +same time, she said she had decided to take him home with her and give +him every possible advantage. Then, a little wearily, she told what +were the plans she had made for him. + +At the foot of the bed Mrs. Murphy listened, crying softly. Across the +room Jerry Murphy, his eyes dilating, emitted an occasional low "Gee! +Can ye beat that, now?" As to Jamie--Jamie, on the bed, had listened +at first with the air of one to whom suddenly a door has opened into a +longed-for paradise; but gradually, as Mrs. Carew talked, a new look +came to his eyes. Very slowly he closed them, and turned away his +face. + +When Mrs. Carew ceased speaking there was a long silence before Jamie +turned his head and answered. They saw then that his face was very +white, and that his eyes were full of tears. + +"Thank you, Mrs. Carew, but--I can't go," he said simply. + +"You can't--what?" cried Mrs. Carew, as if she doubted the evidence of +her own ears. + +"Jamie!" gasped Pollyanna. + +"Oh, come, kid, what's eatin' ye?" scowled Jerry, hurriedly coming +forward. "Don't ye know a good thing when ye see it?" + +"Yes; but I can't--go," said the crippled boy, again. + +"But, Jamie, Jamie, think, THINK what it would mean to you!" quavered +Mrs. Murphy, at the foot of the bed. + +"I am a-thinkin'," choked Jamie. "Don't you suppose I know what I'm +doin'--what I'm givin' up?" Then to Mrs. Carew he turned tear-wet +eyes. "I can't," he faltered. "I can't let you do all that for me. If +you--CARED it would be different. But you don't care--not really. You +don't WANT me--not ME. You want the real Jamie, and I ain't the real +Jamie. You don't think I am. I can see it in your face." + +"I know. But--but--" began Mrs. Carew, helplessly. + +"And it isn't as if--as if I was like other boys, and could walk, +either," interrupted the cripple, feverishly. "You'd get tired of me +in no time. And I'd see it comin'. I couldn't stand it--to be a burden +like that. Of course, if you CARED--like mumsey here--" He threw out +his hand, choked back a sob, then turned his head away again. "I'm not +the Jamie you want. I--can't--go," he said. With the words his thin, +boyish hand fell clenched till the knuckles showed white against the +tattered old shawl that covered the bed. + +There was a moment's breathless hush, then, very quietly, Mrs. Carew +got to her feet. Her face was colorless; but there was that in it that +silenced the sob that rose to Pollyanna's lips. + +"Come, Pollyanna," was all she said. + +"Well, if you ain't the fool limit!" babbled Jerry Murphy to the boy +on the bed, as the door closed a moment later. + +But the boy on the bed was crying very much as if the closing door had +been the one that had led to paradise--and that had closed now +forever. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +FROM BEHIND A COUNTER + + +Mrs. Carew was very angry. To have brought herself to the point where +she was willing to take this lame boy into her home, and then to have +the lad calmly refuse to come, was unbearable. Mrs. Carew was not in +the habit of having her invitations ignored, or her wishes scorned. +Furthermore, now that she could not have the boy, she was conscious of +an almost frantic terror lest he were, after all, the real Jamie. She +knew then that her true reason for wanting him had been--not because +she cared for him, not even because she wished to help him and make +him happy--but because she hoped, by taking him, that she would ease +her own mind, and forever silence that awful eternal questioning on +her part: "What if he WERE her own Jamie?" + +It certainly had not helped matters any that the boy had divined her +state of mind, and had given as the reason for his refusal that she +"did not care." To be sure, Mrs. Carew now very proudly told herself +that she did not indeed "care," that he was NOT her sister's boy, and +that she would "forget all about it." + +But she did not forget all about it. However insistently she might +disclaim responsibility and relationship, just as insistently +responsibility and relationship thrust themselves upon her in the +shape of panicky doubts; and however resolutely she turned her +thoughts to other matters, just so resolutely visions of a +wistful-eyed boy in a poverty-stricken room loomed always before her. + +Then, too, there was Pollyanna. Clearly Pollyanna was not herself at +all. In a most unPollyanna-like spirit she moped about the house, +finding apparently no interest anywhere. + +"Oh, no, I'm not sick," she would answer, when remonstrated with, and +questioned. + +"But what IS the trouble?" + +"Why, nothing. It--it's only that I was thinking of Jamie, you +know,--how HE hasn't got all these beautiful things--carpets, and +pictures, and curtains." + +It was the same with her food. Pollyanna was actually losing her +appetite; but here again she disclaimed sickness. + +"Oh, no," she would sigh mournfully. "It's just that I don't seem +hungry. Some way, just as soon as I begin to eat, I think of Jamie, +and how HE doesn't have only old doughnuts and dry rolls; and then +I--I don't want anything." + +Mrs. Carew, spurred by a feeling that she herself only dimly +understood, and recklessly determined to bring about some change in +Pollyanna at all costs, ordered a huge tree, two dozen wreaths, and +quantities of holly and Christmas baubles. For the first time in many +years the house was aflame and aglitter with scarlet and tinsel. There +was even to be a Christmas party, for Mrs. Carew had told Pollyanna to +invite half a dozen of her schoolgirl friends for the tree on +Christmas Eve. + +But even here Mrs. Carew met with disappointment; for, though +Pollyanna was always grateful, and at times interested and even +excited, she still carried frequently a sober little face. And in the +end the Christmas party was more of a sorrow than a joy; for the first +glimpse of the glittering tree sent her into a storm of sobs. + +"Why, Pollyanna!" ejaculated Mrs. Carew. "What in the world is the +matter now?" + +"N-n-nothing," wept Pollyanna. "It's only that it's so perfectly, +perfectly beautiful that I just had to cry. I was thinking how Jamie +would love to see it." + +It was then that Mrs. Carew's patience snapped. + +"'Jamie, Jamie, Jamie'!" she exclaimed. "Pollyanna, CAN'T you stop +talking about that boy? You know perfectly well that it is not my +fault that he is not here. I asked him to come here to live. Besides, +where is that glad game of yours? I think it would be an excellent +idea if you would play it on this." + +"I AM playing it," quavered Pollyanna. "And that's what I don't +understand. I never knew it to act so funny. Why, before, when I've +been glad about things, I've been happy. But now, about Jamie--I'm so +glad I've got carpets and pictures and nice things to eat, and that I +can walk and run, and go to school, and all that; but the harder I'm +glad for myself, the sorrier I am for him. I never knew the game to +act so funny, and I don't know what ails it. Do you?" + +But Mrs. Carew, with a despairing gesture, merely turned away without +a word. + +It was the day after Christmas that something so wonderful happened +that Pollyanna, for a time, almost forgot Jamie. Mrs. Carew had taken +her shopping, and it was while Mrs. Carew was trying to decide between +a duchesse-lace and a point-lace collar, that Pollyanna chanced to spy +farther down the counter a face that looked vaguely familiar. For a +moment she regarded it frowningly; then, with a little cry, she ran +down the aisle. + +"Oh, it's you--it IS you!" she exclaimed joyously to a girl who was +putting into the show case a tray of pink bows. "I'm so glad to see +you!" + +The girl behind the counter lifted her head and stared at Pollyanna in +amazement. But almost immediately her dark, somber face lighted with a +smile of glad recognition. + +"Well, well, if it isn't my little Public Garden kiddie!" she +ejaculated. + +"Yes. I'm so glad you remembered," beamed Pollyanna. "But you never +came again. I looked for you lots of times." + +"I couldn't. I had to work. That was our last half-holiday, and--Fifty +cents, madam," she broke off, in answer to a sweet-faced old lady's +question as to the price of a black-and-white bow on the counter. + +"Fifty cents? Hm-m!" The old lady fingered the bow, hesitated, then +laid it down with a sigh. "Hm, yes; well, it's very pretty, I'm sure, +my dear," she said, as she passed on. + +Immediately behind her came two bright-faced girls who, with much +giggling and bantering, picked out a jeweled creation of scarlet +velvet, and a fairy-like structure of tulle and pink buds. As the +girls turned chattering away Pollyanna drew an ecstatic sigh. + +"Is this what you do all day? My, how glad you must be you chose +this!" + +"GLAD!" + +"Yes. It must be such fun--such lots of folks, you know, and all +different! And you can talk to 'em. You HAVE to talk to 'em--it's your +business. I should love that. I think I'll do this when I grow up. It +must be such fun to see what they all buy!" + +"Fun! Glad!" bristled the girl behind the counter. "Well, child, I +guess if you knew half--That's a dollar, madam," she interrupted +herself hastily, in answer to a young woman's sharp question as to the +price of a flaring yellow bow of beaded velvet in the show case. + +"Well, I should think 'twas time you told me," snapped the young +woman. "I had to ask you twice." + +The girl behind the counter bit her lip. + +"I didn't hear you, madam." + +"I can't help that. It is your business TO hear. You are paid for it, +aren't you? How much is that black one?" + +"Fifty cents." + +"And that blue one?" + +"One dollar." + +"No impudence, miss! You needn't be so short about it, or I shall +report you. Let me see that tray of pink ones." + +The salesgirl's lips opened, then closed in a thin, straight line. +Obediently she reached into the show case and took out the tray of +pink bows; but her eyes flashed, and her hands shook visibly as she +set the tray down on the counter. The young woman whom she was serving +picked up five bows, asked the price of four of them, then turned away +with a brief: + +"I see nothing I care for." + +"Well," said the girl behind the counter, in a shaking voice, to the +wide-eyed Pollyanna, "what do you think of my business now? Anything +to be glad about there?" + +Pollyanna giggled a little hysterically. + +"My, wasn't she cross? But she was kind of funny, too--don't you +think? Anyhow, you can be glad that--that they aren't ALL like HER, +can't you?" + +"I suppose so," said the girl, with a faint smile, "But I can tell you +right now, kiddie, that glad game of yours you was tellin' me about +that day in the Garden may be all very well for you; but--" Once more +she stopped with a tired: "Fifty cents, madam," in answer to a +question from the other side of the counter. + +"Are you as lonesome as ever?" asked Pollyanna wistfully, when the +salesgirl was at liberty again. + +"Well, I can't say I've given more'n five parties, nor been to more'n +seven, since I saw you," replied the girl so bitterly that Pollyanna +detected the sarcasm. + +"Oh, but you did something nice Christmas, didn't you?" + +"Oh, yes. I stayed in bed all day with my feet done up in rags and +read four newspapers and one magazine. Then at night I hobbled out to +a restaurant where I had to blow in thirty-five cents for chicken pie +instead of a quarter." + +"But what ailed your feet?" + +"Blistered. Standin' on 'em--Christmas rush." + +"Oh!" shuddered Pollyanna, sympathetically. "And you didn't have any +tree, or party, or anything?" she cried, distressed and shocked. + +"Well, hardly!" + +"O dear! How I wish you could have seen mine!" sighed the little girl. +"It was just lovely, and--But, oh, say!" she exclaimed joyously. "You +can see it, after all. It isn't gone yet. Now, can't you come out +to-night, or to-morrow night, and--" + +"PollyANNA!" interrupted Mrs. Carew in her chilliest accents. "What in +the world does this mean? Where have you been? I have looked +everywhere for you. I even went 'way back to the suit department." + +Pollyanna turned with a happy little cry. + +"Oh, Mrs. Carew, I'm so glad you've come," she rejoiced. "This +is--well, I don't know her name yet, but I know HER, so it's all +right. I met her in the Public Garden ever so long ago. And she's +lonesome, and doesn't know anybody. And her father was a minister like +mine, only he's alive. And she didn't have any Christmas tree only +blistered feet and chicken pie; and I want her to see mine, you +know--the tree, I mean," plunged on Pollyanna, breathlessly. "I've +asked her to come out to-night, or to-morrow night. And you'll let me +have it all lighted up again, won't you?" + +[Illustration: "'I don't know her name yet, but I know HER, so it's +all right'"] + +"Well, really, Pollyanna," began Mrs. Carew, in cold disapproval. But +the girl behind the counter interrupted with a voice quite as cold, +and even more disapproving. + +"Don't worry, madam. I've no notion of goin'." + +"Oh, but PLEASE," begged Pollyanna. "You don't know how I want you, +and--" + +"I notice the lady ain't doin' any askin'," interrupted the salesgirl, +a little maliciously. + +Mrs. Carew flushed an angry red, and turned as if to go; but Pollyanna +caught her arm and held it, talking meanwhile almost frenziedly to the +girl behind the counter, who happened, at the moment, to be free from +customers. + +"Oh, but she will, she will," Pollyanna was saying. "She wants you to +come--I know she does. Why, you don't know how good she is, and how +much money she gives to--to charitable 'sociations and everything." + +"PollyANNA!" remonstrated Mrs. Carew, sharply. Once more she would +have gone, but this time she was held spellbound by the ringing scorn +in the low, tense voice of the salesgirl. + +"Oh, yes, I know! There's lots of 'em that'll give to RESCUE work. +There's always plenty of helpin' hands stretched out to them that has +gone wrong. And that's all right. I ain't findin' no fault with that. +Only sometimes I wonder there don't some of 'em think of helpin' the +girls BEFORE they go wrong. Why don't they give GOOD girls pretty +homes with books and pictures and soft carpets and music, and somebody +'round 'em to care? Maybe then there wouldn't be so many--Good +heavens, what am I sayin'?" she broke off, under her breath. Then, +with the old weariness, she turned to a young woman who had stopped +before her and picked up a blue bow. + +"That's fifty cents, madam," Mrs. Carew heard, as she hurried +Pollyanna away. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +A WAITING AND A WINNING + + +It was a delightful plan. Pollyanna had it entirely formulated in +about five minutes; then she told Mrs. Carew. Mrs. Carew did not think +it was a delightful plan, and she said so very distinctly. + +"Oh, but I'm sure THEY'LL think it is," argued Pollyanna, in reply to +Mrs. Carew's objections. "And just think how easy we can do it! The +tree is just as it was--except for the presents, and we can get more +of those. It won't be so very long till just New Year's Eve; and only +think how glad she'll be to come! Wouldn't YOU be, if you hadn't had +anything for Christmas only blistered feet and chicken pie?" + +"Dear, dear, what an impossible child you are!" frowned Mrs. Carew. +"Even yet it doesn't seem to occur to you that we don't know this +young person's name." + +"So we don't! And isn't it funny, when I feel that I know HER so +well?" smiled Pollyanna. "You see, we had such a good talk in the +Garden that day, and she told me all about how lonesome she was, and +that she thought the lonesomest place in the world was in a crowd in a +big city, because folks didn't think nor notice. Oh, there was one +that noticed; but he noticed too much, she said, and he hadn't ought +to notice her any--which is kind of funny, isn't it, when you come to +think of it. But anyhow, he came for her there in the Garden to go +somewhere with him, and she wouldn't go, and he was a real handsome +gentleman, too--until he began to look so cross, just at the last. +Folks aren't so pretty when they're cross, are they? Now there was a +lady to-day looking at bows, and she said--well, lots of things that +weren't nice, you know. And SHE didn't look pretty, either, +after--after she began to talk. But you will let me have the tree New +Year's Eve, won't you, Mrs. Carew?--and invite this girl who sells +bows, and Jamie? He's better, you know, now, and he COULD come. Of +course Jerry would have to wheel him--but then, we'd want Jerry, +anyway." + +"Oh, of course, JERRY!" exclaimed Mrs. Carew in ironic scorn. "But why +stop with Jerry? I'm sure Jerry has hosts of friends who would love to +come. And--" + +"Oh, Mrs. Carew, MAY I?" broke in Pollyanna, in uncontrollable +delight. "Oh, how good, GOOD, GOOD you are! I've so wanted--" But Mrs. +Carew fairly gasped aloud in surprise and dismay. + +"No, no, Pollyanna, I--" she began, protestingly. But Pollyanna, +entirely mistaking the meaning of her interruption, plunged in again +in stout championship. + +"Indeed you ARE good--just the bestest ever; and I sha'n't let you say +you aren't. Now I reckon I'll have a party all right! There's Tommy +Dolan and his sister Jennie, and the two Macdonald children, and three +girls whose names I don't know that live under the Murphys, and a +whole lot more, if we have room for 'em. And only think how glad +they'll be when I tell 'em! Why, Mrs. Carew, seems to me as if I never +knew anything so perfectly lovely in all my life--and it's all your +doings! Now mayn't I begin right away to invite 'em--so they'll KNOW +what's coming to 'em?" + +And Mrs. Carew, who would not have believed such a thing possible, +heard herself murmuring a faint "yes," which, she knew, bound her to +the giving of a Christmas-tree party on New Year's Eve to a dozen +children from Murphy's Alley and a young salesgirl whose name she did +not know. + +Perhaps in Mrs. Carew's memory was still lingering a young girl's +"Sometimes I wonder there don't some of 'em think of helpin' the girls +BEFORE they go wrong." Perhaps in her ears was still ringing +Pollyanna's story of that same girl who had found a crowd in a big +city the loneliest place in the world, yet who had refused to go with +the handsome man that had "noticed too much." Perhaps in Mrs. Carew's +heart was the undefined hope that somewhere in it all lay the peace +she had so longed for. Perhaps it was a little of all three combined +with utter helplessness in the face of Pollyanna's amazing twisting of +her irritated sarcasm into the wide-sweeping hospitality of a willing +hostess. Whatever it was, the thing was done; and at once Mrs. Carew +found herself caught into a veritable whirl of plans and plottings, +the center of which was always Pollyanna and the party. + +To her sister, Mrs. Carew wrote distractedly of the whole affair, +closing with: + +"What I'm going to do I don't know; but I suppose I shall have to keep +right on doing as I am doing. There is no other way. Of course, if +Pollyanna once begins to preach--but she hasn't yet; so I can't, with +a clear conscience, send her back to you." + +Della, reading this letter at the Sanatorium, laughed aloud at the +conclusion. + +"'Hasn't preached yet,' indeed!" she chuckled to herself. "Bless her +dear heart! And yet you, Ruth Carew, own up to giving two +Christmas-tree parties within a week, and, as I happen to know, your +home, which used to be shrouded in death-like gloom, is aflame with +scarlet and green from top to toe. But she hasn't preached yet--oh, +no, she hasn't preached yet!" + +The party was a great success. Even Mrs. Carew admitted that. Jamie, +in his wheel chair, Jerry with his startling, but expressive +vocabulary, and the girl (whose name proved to be Sadie Dean), vied +with each other in amusing the more diffident guests. Sadie Dean, much +to the others' surprise--and perhaps to her own--disclosed an intimate +knowledge of the most fascinating games; and these games, with Jamie's +stories and Jerry's good-natured banter, kept every one in gales of +laughter until supper and the generous distribution of presents from +the laden tree sent the happy guests home with tired sighs of content. + +If Jamie (who with Jerry was the last to leave) looked about him a bit +wistfully, no one apparently noticed it. Yet Mrs. Carew, when she bade +him good-night, said low in his ear, half impatiently, half +embarrassedly: + +"Well, Jamie, have you changed your mind--about coming?" + +The boy hesitated. A faint color stole into his cheeks. He turned and +looked into her eyes wistfully, searchingly. Then very slowly he shook +his head. + +"If it could always be--like to-night, I--could," he sighed. "But it +wouldn't. There'd be to-morrow, and next week, and next month, and +next year comin'; and I'd know before next week that I hadn't oughter +come." + + +If Mrs. Carew had thought that the New Year's Eve party was to end the +matter of Pollyanna's efforts in behalf of Sadie Dean, she was soon +undeceived; for the very next morning Pollyanna began to talk of her. + +"And I'm so glad I found her again," she prattled contentedly. "Even +if I haven't been able to find the real Jamie for you, I've found +somebody else for you to love--and of course you'll love to love her, +'cause it's just another way of loving Jamie." + +Mrs. Carew drew in her breath and gave a little gasp of exasperation. +This unfailing faith in her goodness of heart, and unhesitating belief +in her desire to "help everybody" was most disconcerting, and +sometimes most annoying. At the same time it was a most difficult +thing to disclaim--under the circumstances, especially with +Pollyanna's happy, confident eyes full on her face. + +"But, Pollyanna," she objected impotently, at last, feeling very much +as if she were struggling against invisible silken cords, +"I--you--this girl really isn't Jamie, at all, you know." + +"I know she isn't," sympathized Pollyanna quickly. "And of course I'm +just as sorry she ISN'T Jamie as can be. But she's somebody's +Jamie--that is, I mean she hasn't got anybody down here to love her +and--and notice, you know; and so whenever you remember Jamie I should +think you couldn't be glad enough there was SOMEBODY you could help, +just as you'd want folks to help Jamie, wherever HE is." + +Mrs. Carew shivered and gave a little moan. + +"But I want MY Jamie," she grieved. + +Pollyanna nodded with understanding eyes. + +"I know--the 'child's presence.' Mr. Pendleton told me about it--only +you've GOT the 'woman's hand.'" + +"'Woman's hand'?" + +"Yes--to make a home, you know. He said that it took a woman's hand or +a child's presence to make a home. That was when he wanted me, and I +found him Jimmy, and he adopted him instead." + +"JIMMY?" Mrs. Carew looked up with the startled something in her eyes +that always came into them at the mention of any variant of that name. + +"Yes; Jimmy Bean." + +"Oh--BEAN," said Mrs. Carew, relaxing. + +"Yes. He was from an Orphan's Home, and he ran away. I found him. He +said he wanted another kind of a home with a mother in it instead of a +Matron. I couldn't find him the mother-part, but I found him Mr. +Pendleton, and he adopted him. His name is Jimmy Pendleton now." + +"But it was--Bean?" + +"Yes, it was Bean." + +"Oh!" said Mrs. Carew, this time with a long sigh. + +Mrs. Carew saw a good deal of Sadie Dean during the days that followed +the New Year's Eve party. She saw a good deal of Jamie, too. In one +way and another Pollyanna contrived to have them frequently at the +house; and this, Mrs. Carew, much to her surprise and vexation, could +not seem to prevent. Her consent and even her delight were taken by +Pollyanna as so much a matter of course that she found herself +helpless to convince the child that neither approval nor satisfaction +entered into the matter at all, as far as she was concerned. + +But Mrs. Carew, whether she herself realized it or not, was learning +many things--things she never could have learned in the old days, shut +up in her rooms, with orders to Mary to admit no one. She was learning +something of what it means to be a lonely young girl in a big city, +with one's living to earn, and with no one to care--except one who +cares too much, and too little. + +"But what did you mean?" she nervously asked Sadie Dean one evening; +"what did you mean that first day in the store--what you said--about +helping the girls?" + +Sadie Dean colored distressfully. + +"I'm afraid I was rude," she apologized. + +"Never mind that. Tell me what you meant. I've thought of it so many +times since." + +For a moment the girl was silent; then, a little bitterly she said: + +"'Twas because I knew a girl once, and I was thinkin' of her. She came +from my town, and she was pretty and good, but she wa'n't over strong. +For a year we pulled together, sharin' the same room, boiling our eggs +over the same gas-jet, and eatin' our hash and fish balls for supper +at the same cheap restaurant. There was never anything to do evenin's +but to walk in the Common, or go to the movies, if we had the dime to +blow in, or just stay in our room. Well, our room wasn't very +pleasant. It was hot in summer, and cold in winter, and the gas-jet +was so measly and so flickery that we couldn't sew or read, even if we +hadn't been too fagged out to do either--which we 'most generally was. +Besides, over our heads was a squeaky board that some one was always +rockin' on, and under us was a feller that was learnin' to play the +cornet. Did you ever hear any one learn to play the cornet?" + +"N-no, I don't think so," murmured Mrs. Carew. + +"Well, you've missed a lot," said the girl, dryly. Then, after a +moment, she resumed her story. + +"Sometimes, 'specially at Christmas and holidays, we used to walk up +here on the Avenue, and other streets, huntin' for windows where the +curtains were up, and we could look in. You see, we were pretty +lonesome, them days 'specially, and we said it did us good to see +homes with folks, and lamps on the center-tables, and children playin' +games; but we both of us knew that really it only made us feel worse +than ever, because we were so hopelessly out of it all. 'Twas even +harder to see the automobiles, and the gay young folks in them, +laughing and chatting. You see, we were young, and I suspect we wanted +to laugh and chatter. We wanted a good time, too; and, by and by--my +chum began to have it--this good time. + +"Well, to make a long story short, we broke partnership one day, and +she went her way, and I mine. I didn't like the company she was +keepin', and I said so. She wouldn't give 'em up, so we quit. I didn't +see her again for 'most two years, then I got a note from her, and I +went. This was just last month. She was in one of them rescue homes. +It was a lovely place; soft rugs, fine pictures, plants, flowers, and +books, a piano, a beautiful room, and everything possible done for +her. Rich women came in their automobiles and carriages to take her +driving, and she was taken to concerts and matinees. She was learnin' +stenography, and they were going to help her to a position just as +soon as she could take it. Everybody was wonderfully good to her, she +said, and showed they wanted to help her in every way. But she said +something else, too. She said: + +"'Sadie, if they'd taken one half the pains to show me they cared and +wanted to help long ago when I was an honest, self-respectin', +hard-workin' homesick girl--I wouldn't have been here for them to help +now.' And--well, I never forgot it. That's all. It ain't that I'm +objectin' to the rescue work--it's a fine thing, and they ought to do +it. Only I'm thinkin' there wouldn't be quite so much of it for them +to do--if they'd just show a little of their interest earlier in the +game." + +"But I thought--there were working-girls' homes, and--and +settlement-houses that--that did that sort of thing," faltered Mrs. +Carew in a voice that few of her friends would have recognized. + +"There are. Did you ever see the inside of one of them?" + +"Why, n-no; though I--I have given money to them." This time Mrs. +Carew's voice was almost apologetically pleading in tone. + +Sadie Dean smiled curiously. + +"Yes, I know. There are lots of good women that have given money to +them--and have never seen the inside of one of them. Please don't +understand that I'm sayin' anythin' against the homes. I'm not. +They're good things. They're almost the only thing that's doing +anything to help; but they're only a drop in the bucket to what is +really needed. I tried one once; but there was an air about +it--somehow I felt-- But there, what's the use? Probably they aren't +all like that one, and maybe the fault was with me. If I should try to +tell you, you wouldn't understand. You'd have to live in it--and you +haven't even seen the inside of one. But I can't help wonderin' +sometimes why so many of those good women never seem to put the real +HEART and INTEREST into the preventin' that they do into the rescuin'. +But there! I didn't mean to talk such a lot. But--you asked me." + +"Yes, I asked you," said Mrs. Carew in a half-stifled voice, as she +turned away. + +Not only from Sadie Dean, however, was Mrs. Carew learning things +never learned before, but from Jamie, also. + +Jamie was there a great deal. Pollyanna liked to have him there, and +he liked to be there. At first, to be sure, he had hesitated; but very +soon he had quieted his doubts and yielded to his longings by telling +himself (and Pollyanna) that, after all, visiting was not "staying for +keeps." + +Mrs. Carew often found the boy and Pollyanna contentedly settled on +the library window-seat, with the empty wheel chair close by. +Sometimes they were poring over a book. (She heard Jamie tell +Pollyanna one day that he didn't think he'd mind so very much being +lame if he had so many books as Mrs. Carew, and that he guessed he'd +be so happy he'd fly clean away if he had both books and legs.) +Sometimes the boy was telling stories, and Pollyanna was listening, +wide-eyed and absorbed. + +Mrs. Carew wondered at Pollyanna's interest--until one day she herself +stopped and listened. After that she wondered no longer--but she +listened a good deal longer. Crude and incorrect as was much of the +boy's language, it was always wonderfully vivid and picturesque, so +that Mrs. Carew found herself, hand in hand with Pollyanna, trailing +down the Golden Ages at the beck of a glowing-eyed boy. + +Dimly Mrs. Carew was beginning to realize, too, something of what it +must mean, to be in spirit and ambition the center of brave deeds and +wonderful adventures, while in reality one was only a crippled boy in +a wheel chair. But what Mrs. Carew did not realize was the part this +crippled boy was beginning to play in her own life. She did not +realize how much a matter of course his presence was becoming, nor how +interested she now was in finding something new "for Jamie to see." +Neither did she realize how day by day he was coming to seem to her +more and more the lost Jamie, her dead sister's child. + +As February, March, and April passed, however, and May came, bringing +with it the near approach of the date set for Pollyanna's home-going, +Mrs. Carew did suddenly awake to the knowledge of what that home-going +was to mean to her. + +She was amazed and appalled. Up to now she had, in belief, looked +forward with pleasure to the departure of Pollyanna. She had said that +then once again the house would be quiet, with the glaring sun shut +out. Once again she would be at peace, and able to hide herself away +from the annoying, tiresome world. Once again she would be free to +summon to her aching consciousness all those dear memories of the lost +little lad who had so long ago stepped into that vast unknown and +closed the door behind him. All this she had believed would be the +case when Pollyanna should go home. + +But now that Pollyanna was really going home, the picture was far +different. The "quiet house with the sun shut out" had become one that +promised to be "gloomy and unbearable." The longed-for "peace" would +be "wretched loneliness"; and as for her being able to "hide herself +away from the annoying, tiresome world," and "free to summon to her +aching consciousness all those dear memories of that lost little +lad"--just as if anything could blot out those other aching memories +of the new Jamie (who yet might be the old Jamie) with his pitiful, +pleading eyes! + +Full well now Mrs. Carew knew that without Pollyanna the house would +be empty; but that without the lad, Jamie, it would be worse than +that. To her pride this knowledge was not pleasing. To her heart it +was torture--since the boy had twice said that he would not come. For +a time, during those last few days of Pollyanna's stay, the struggle +was a bitter one, though pride always kept the ascendancy. Then, on +what Mrs. Carew knew would be Jamie's last visit, her heart triumphed, +and once more she asked Jamie to come and be to her the Jamie that was +lost. + +What she said she never could remember afterwards; but what the boy +said, she never forgot. After all, it was compassed in six short +words. + +For what seemed a long, long minute his eyes had searched her face; +then to his own had come a transfiguring light, as he breathed: + +"Oh, yes! Why, you--CARE, now!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +JIMMY AND THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER + + +This time Beldingsville did not literally welcome Pollyanna home with +brass bands and bunting--perhaps because the hour of her expected +arrival was known to but few of the townspeople. But there certainly +was no lack of joyful greetings on the part of everybody from the +moment she stepped from the railway train with her Aunt Polly and Dr. +Chilton. Nor did Pollyanna lose any time in starting on a round of +fly-away minute calls on all her old friends. Indeed, for the next few +days, according to Nancy, "There wasn't no putting of your finger on +her anywheres, for by the time you'd got your finger down she wa'n't +there." + +And always, everywhere she went, Pollyanna met the question: "Well, +how did you like Boston?" Perhaps to no one did she answer this more +fully than she did to Mr. Pendleton. As was usually the case when this +question was put to her, she began her reply with a troubled frown. + +"Oh, I liked it--I just loved it--some of it." + +"But not all of it?" smiled Mr. Pendleton. + +"No. There's parts of it--Oh, I was glad to be there," she explained +hastily. "I had a perfectly lovely time, and lots of things were so +queer and different, you know--like eating dinner at night instead of +noons, when you ought to eat it. But everybody was so good to me, and +I saw such a lot of wonderful things--Bunker Hill, and the Public +Garden, and the Seeing Boston autos, and miles of pictures and statues +and store-windows and streets that didn't have any end. And folks. I +never saw such a lot of folks." + +"Well, I'm sure--I thought you liked folks," commented the man. + +"I do." Pollyanna frowned again and pondered. "But what's the use of +such a lot of them if you don't know 'em? And Mrs. Carew wouldn't let +me. She didn't know 'em herself. She said folks didn't, down there." + +There was a slight pause, then, with a sigh, Pollyanna resumed. + +"I reckon maybe that's the part I don't like the most--that folks +don't know each other. It would be such a lot nicer if they did! Why, +just think, Mr. Pendleton, there are lots of folks that live on dirty, +narrow streets, and don't even have beans and fish balls to eat, nor +things even as good as missionary barrels to wear. Then there are +other folks--Mrs. Carew, and a whole lot like her--that live in +perfectly beautiful houses, and have more things to eat and wear than +they know what to do with. Now if THOSE folks only knew the other +folks--" But Mr. Pendleton interrupted with a laugh. + +"My dear child, did it ever occur to you that these people don't CARE +to know each other?" he asked quizzically. + +"Oh, but some of them do," maintained Pollyanna, in eager defense. +"Now there's Sadie Dean--she sells bows, lovely bows in a big +store--she WANTS to know people; and I introduced her to Mrs. Carew, +and we had her up to the house, and we had Jamie and lots of others +there, too; and she was SO glad to know them! And that's what made me +think that if only a lot of Mrs. Carew's kind could know the other +kind--but of course _I_ couldn't do the introducing. I didn't know +many of them myself, anyway. But if they COULD know each other, so +that the rich people could give the poor people part of their money--" + +But again Mr. Pendleton interrupted with a laugh. + +"Oh, Pollyanna, Pollyanna," he chuckled; "I'm afraid you're getting +into pretty deep water. You'll be a rabid little socialist before you +know it." + +"A--what?" questioned the little girl, dubiously. "I--I don't think I +know what a socialist is. But I know what being SOCIABLE is--and I +like folks that are that. If it's anything like that, I don't mind +being one, a mite. I'd like to be one." + +"I don't doubt it, Pollyanna," smiled the man. "But when it comes to +this scheme of yours for the wholesale distribution of wealth--you've +got a problem on your hands that you might have difficulty with." + +Pollyanna drew a long sigh. + +"I know," she nodded. "That's the way Mrs. Carew talked. She says I +don't understand; that 'twould--er--pauperize her and be +indiscriminate and pernicious, and--Well, it was SOMETHING like that, +anyway," bridled the little girl, aggrievedly, as the man began to +laugh. "And, anyway, I DON'T understand why some folks should have +such a lot, and other folks shouldn't have anything; and I DON'T like +it. And if I ever have a lot I shall just give some of it to folks who +don't have any, even if it does make me pauperized and pernicious, +and--" But Mr. Pendleton was laughing so hard now that Pollyanna, +after a moment's struggle, surrendered and laughed with him. + +"Well, anyway," she reiterated, when she had caught her breath, "I +don't understand it, all the same." + +"No, dear, I'm afraid you don't," agreed the man, growing suddenly +very grave and tender-eyed; "nor any of the rest of us, for that +matter. But, tell me," he added, after a minute, "who is this Jamie +you've been talking so much about since you came?" + +And Pollyanna told him. + +In talking of Jamie, Pollyanna lost her worried, baffled look. +Pollyanna loved to talk of Jamie. Here was something she understood. +Here was no problem that had to deal with big, fearsome-sounding +words. Besides, in this particular instance--would not Mr. Pendleton +be especially interested in Mrs. Carew's taking the boy into her home, +for who better than himself could understand the need of a child's +presence? + +For that matter, Pollyanna talked to everybody about Jamie. She +assumed that everybody would be as interested as she herself was. On +most occasions she was not disappointed in the interest shown; but one +day she met with a surprise. It came through Jimmy Pendleton. + +"Say, look a-here," he demanded one afternoon, irritably. "Wasn't +there ANYBODY else down to Boston but just that everlasting 'Jamie'?" + +"Why, Jimmy Bean, what do you mean?" cried Pollyanna. + +The boy lifted his chin a little. + +"I'm not Jimmy Bean. I'm Jimmy Pendleton. And I mean that I should +think, from your talk, that there wasn't ANYBODY down to Boston but +just that loony boy who calls them birds and squirrels 'Lady +Lancelot,' and all that tommyrot." + +"Why, Jimmy Be--Pendleton!" gasped Pollyanna. Then, with some spirit: +"Jamie isn't loony! He is a very nice boy. And he knows a lot--books +and stories! Why, he can MAKE stories right out of his own head! +Besides, it isn't 'Lady Lancelot,'--it's 'Sir Lancelot.' If you knew +half as much as he does you'd know that, too!" she finished, with +flashing eyes. + +Jimmy Pendleton flushed miserably and looked utterly wretched. Growing +more and more jealous moment by moment, still doggedly he held his +ground. + +"Well, anyhow," he scoffed, "I don't think much of his name. 'Jamie'! +Humph!--sounds sissy! And I know somebody else that said so, too." + +"Who was it?" + +There was no answer. + +"WHO WAS IT?" demanded Pollyanna, more peremptorily. + +"Dad." The boy's voice was sullen. + +"Your--dad?" repeated Pollyanna, in amazement. "Why, how could he know +Jamie?" + +"He didn't. 'Twasn't about that Jamie. 'Twas about me." The boy still +spoke sullenly, with his eyes turned away. Yet there was a curious +softness in his voice that was always noticeable whenever he spoke of +his father. + +"YOU!" + +"Yes. 'Twas just a little while before he died. We stopped 'most a +week with a farmer. Dad helped about the hayin'--and I did, too, some. +The farmer's wife was awful good to me, and pretty quick she was +callin' me 'Jamie.' I don't know why, but she just did. And one day +father heard her. He got awful mad--so mad that I remembered it +always--what he said. He said 'Jamie' wasn't no sort of a name for a +boy, and that no son of his should ever be called it. He said 'twas a +sissy name, and he hated it. 'Seems so I never saw him so mad as he +was that night. He wouldn't even stay to finish the work, but him and +me took to the road again that night. I was kind of sorry, 'cause I +liked her--the farmer's wife, I mean. She was good to me." + +Pollyanna nodded, all sympathy and interest. It was not often that +Jimmy said much of that mysterious past life of his, before she had +known him. + +"And what happened next?" she prompted. Pollyanna had, for the moment, +forgotten all about the original subject of the controversy--the name +"Jamie" that was dubbed "sissy." + +The boy sighed. + +"We just went on till we found another place. And 'twas there +dad--died. Then they put me in the 'sylum." + +"And then you ran away and I found you that day, down by Mrs. Snow's," +exulted Pollyanna, softly. "And I've known you ever since." + +"Oh, yes--and you've known me ever since," repeated Jimmy--but in a +far different voice: Jimmy had suddenly come back to the present, and +to his grievance. "But, then, I ain't 'JAMIE,' you know," he finished +with scornful emphasis, as he turned loftily away, leaving a +distressed, bewildered Pollyanna behind him. + +"Well, anyway, I can be glad he doesn't always act like this," sighed +the little girl, as she mournfully watched the sturdy, boyish figure +with its disagreeable, amazing swagger. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +AUNT POLLY TAKES ALARM + + +Pollyanna had been at home about a week when the letter from Della +Wetherby came to Mrs. Chilton. + +"I wish I could make you see what your little niece has done for my +sister," wrote Miss Wetherby; "but I'm afraid I can't. You would have +to know what she was before. You did see her, to be sure, and perhaps +you saw something of the hush and gloom in which she has shrouded +herself for so many years. But you can have no conception of her +bitterness of heart, her lack of aim and interest, her insistence upon +eternal mourning. + +"Then came Pollyanna. Probably I didn't tell you, but my sister +regretted her promise to take the child, almost the minute it was +given; and she made the stern stipulation that the moment Pollyanna +began to preach, back she should come to me. Well, she hasn't +preached--at least, my sister says she hasn't; and my sister ought to +know. And yet--well, just let me tell you what I found when I went to +see her yesterday. Perhaps nothing else could give you a better idea +of what that wonderful little Pollyanna of yours has accomplished. + +"To begin with, as I approached the house, I saw that nearly all the +shades were up: they used to be down--'way down to the sill. The +minute I stepped into the hall I heard music--Parsifal. The +drawing-rooms were open, and the air was sweet with roses. + +"'Mrs. Carew and Master Jamie are in the music-room,' said the maid. +And there I found them--my sister, and the youth she has taken into +her home, listening to one of those modern contrivances that can hold +an entire opera company, including the orchestra. + +"The boy was in a wheel chair. He was pale, but plainly beatifically +happy. My sister looked ten years younger. Her usually colorless +cheeks showed a faint pink, and her eyes glowed and sparkled. A little +later, after I had talked a few minutes with the boy, my sister and I +went up-stairs to her own rooms; and there she talked to me--of Jamie. +Not of the old Jamie, as she used to, with tear-wet eyes and hopeless +sighs, but of the new Jamie--and there were no sighs nor tears now. +There was, instead, the eagerness of enthusiastic interest. + +"'Della, he's wonderful,' she began. 'Everything that is best in +music, art, and literature seems to appeal to him in a perfectly +marvelous fashion, only, of course, he needs development and training. +That's what I'm going to see that he gets. A tutor is coming +to-morrow. Of course his language is something awful; at the same +time, he has read so many good books that his vocabulary is quite +amazing--and you should hear the stories he can reel off! Of course in +general education he is very deficient; but he's eager to learn, so +that will soon be remedied. He loves music, and I shall give him what +training in that he wishes. I have already put in a stock of carefully +selected records. I wish you could have seen his face when he first +heard that Holy Grail music. He knows all about King Arthur and his +Round Table, and he prattles of knights and lords and ladies as you +and I do of the members of our own family--only sometimes I don't know +whether his Sir Lancelot means the ancient knight or a squirrel in the +Public Garden. And, Della, I believe he can be made to walk. I'm going +to have Dr. Ames see him, anyway, and--' + +"And so on and on she talked, while I sat amazed and tongue-tied, but, +oh, so happy! I tell you all this, dear Mrs. Chilton, so you can see +for yourself how interested she is, how eagerly she is going to watch +this boy's growth and development, and how, in spite of herself, it is +all going to change her attitude toward life. She CAN'T do what she is +doing for this boy, Jamie, and not do for herself at the same time. +Never again, I believe, will she be the soured, morose woman she was +before. And it's all because of Pollyanna. + +"Pollyanna! Dear child--and the best part of it is, she is so +unconscious of the whole thing. I don't believe even my sister yet +quite realizes what is taking place within her own heart and life, and +certainly Pollyanna doesn't--least of all does she realize the part +she played in the change. + +"And now, dear Mrs. Chilton, how can I thank you? I know I can't; so +I'm not even going to try. Yet in your heart I believe you know how +grateful I am to both you and Pollyanna. + + "DELLA WETHERBY." + +"Well, it seems to have worked a cure, all right," smiled Dr. Chilton, +when his wife had finished reading the letter to him. + +To his surprise she lifted a quick, remonstrative hand. + +"Thomas, don't, please!" she begged. + +"Why, Polly, what's the matter? Aren't you glad that--that the +medicine worked?" + +Mrs. Chilton dropped despairingly back in her chair. + +"There you go again, Thomas," she sighed. "Of COURSE I'm glad that +this misguided woman has forsaken the error of her ways and found that +she can be of use to some one. And of course I'm glad that Pollyanna +did it. But I am not glad to have that child continually spoken of as +if she were a--a bottle of medicine, or a 'cure.' Don't you see?" + +"Nonsense! After all, where's the harm? I've called Pollyanna a tonic +ever since I knew her." + +"Harm! Thomas Chilton, that child is growing older every day. Do you +want to spoil her? Thus far she has been utterly unconscious of her +extraordinary power. And therein lies the secret of her success. The +minute she CONSCIOUSLY sets herself to reform somebody, you know as +well as I do that she will be simply impossible. Consequently, Heaven +forbid that she ever gets it into her head that she's anything like a +cure-all for poor, sick, suffering humanity." + +"Nonsense! I wouldn't worry," laughed the doctor. + +"But I do worry, Thomas." + +"But, Polly, think of what she's done," argued the doctor. "Think of +Mrs. Snow and John Pendleton, and quantities of others--why, they're +not the same people at all that they used to be, any more than Mrs. +Carew is. And Pollyanna did do it--bless her heart!" + +"I know she did," nodded Mrs. Polly Chilton, emphatically. "But I +don't want Pollyanna to know she did it! Oh, of course she knows it, +in a way. She knows she taught them to play the glad game with her, +and that they are lots happier in consequence. And that's all right. +It's a game--HER game, and they're playing it together. To you I will +admit that Pollyanna has preached to us one of the most powerful +sermons I ever heard; but the minute SHE knows it--well, I don't want +her to. That's all. And right now let me tell you that I've decided +that I will go to Germany with you this fall. At first I thought I +wouldn't. I didn't want to leave Pollyanna--and I'm not going to leave +her now. I'm going to take her with me." + +"Take her with us? Good! Why not?" + +"I've got to. That's all. Furthermore, I should be glad to plan to +stay a few years, just as you said you'd like to. I want to get +Pollyanna away, quite away from Beldingsville for a while. I'd like to +keep her sweet and unspoiled, if I can. And she shall not get silly +notions into her head if I can help myself. Why, Thomas Chilton, do we +want that child made an insufferable little prig?" + +"We certainly don't," laughed the doctor. "But, for that matter, I +don't believe anything or anybody could make her so. However, this +Germany idea suits me to a T. You know I didn't want to come away when +I did--if it hadn't been for Pollyanna. So the sooner we get back +there the better I'm satisfied. And I'd like to stay--for a little +practice, as well as study." + +"Then that's settled." And Aunt Polly gave a satisfied sigh. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +WHEN POLLYANNA WAS EXPECTED + + +All Beldingsville was fairly aquiver with excitement. Not since +Pollyanna Whittier came home from the Sanatorium, WALKING, had there +been such a chatter of talk over back-yard fences and on every street +corner. To-day, too, the center of interest was Pollyanna. Once again +Pollyanna was coming home--but so different a Pollyanna, and so +different a homecoming! + +Pollyanna was twenty now. For six years she had spent her winters in +Germany, her summers leisurely traveling with Dr. Chilton and his +wife. Only once during that time had she been in Beldingsville, and +then it was for but a short four weeks the summer she was sixteen. Now +she was coming home--to stay, report said; she and her Aunt Polly. + +The doctor would not be with them. Six months before, the town had +been shocked and saddened by the news that the doctor had died +suddenly. Beldingsville had expected then that Mrs. Chilton and +Pollyanna would return at once to the old home. But they had not come. +Instead had come word that the widow and her niece would remain abroad +for a time. The report said that, in entirely new surroundings, Mrs. +Chilton was trying to seek distraction and relief from her great +sorrow. + +Very soon, however, vague rumors, and rumors not so vague, began to +float through the town that, financially, all was not well with Mrs. +Polly Chilton. Certain railroad stocks, in which it was known that the +Harrington estate had been heavily interested, wavered uncertainly, +then tumbled into ruin and disaster. Other investments, according to +report, were in a most precarious condition. From the doctor's estate, +little could be expected. He had not been a rich man, and his expenses +had been heavy for the past six years. Beldingsville was not +surprised, therefore, when, not quite six months after the doctor's +death, word came that Mrs. Chilton and Pollyanna were coming home. + +Once more the old Harrington homestead, so long closed and silent, +showed up-flung windows and wide-open doors. Once more Nancy--now Mrs. +Timothy Durgin--swept and scrubbed and dusted until the old place +shone in spotless order. + +"No, I hain't had no instructions ter do it; I hain't, I hain't," +Nancy explained to curious friends and neighbors who halted at the +gate, or came more boldly up to the doorways. "Mother Durgin's had the +key, 'course, and has come in regerler to air up and see that things +was all right; and Mis' Chilton just wrote and said she and Miss +Pollyanna was comin' this week Friday, and ter please see that the +rooms and sheets was aired, and ter leave the key under the side-door +mat on that day. + +"Under the mat, indeed! Just as if I'd leave them two poor things ter +come into this house alone, and all forlorn like that--and me only a +mile away, a-sittin' in my own parlor like as if I was a fine lady an' +hadn't no heart at all, at all! Just as if the poor things hadn't +enough ter stand without that--a-comin' into this house an' the doctor +gone--bless his kind heart!--an' never comin' back. An' no money, too. +Did ye hear about that? An' ain't it a shame, a shame! Think of Miss +Polly--I mean, Mis' Chilton--bein' poor! My stars and stockings, I +can't sense it--I can't, I can't!" + +Perhaps to no one did Nancy speak so interestedly as she did to a +tall, good-looking young fellow with peculiarly frank eyes and a +particularly winning smile, who cantered up to the side door on a +mettlesome thoroughbred at ten o'clock that Thursday morning. At the +same time, to no one did she talk with so much evident embarrassment, +so far as the manner of address was concerned; for her tongue stumbled +and blundered out a "Master Jimmy--er--Mr. Bean--I mean, Mr. +Pendleton, Master Jimmy!" with a nervous precipitation that sent the +young man himself into a merry peal of laughter. + +"Never mind, Nancy! Let it go at whatever comes handiest," he +chuckled. "I've found out what I wanted to know: Mrs. Chilton and her +niece really are expected to-morrow." + +"Yes, sir, they be, sir," courtesied Nancy, "--more's the pity! Not +but that I shall be glad enough ter see 'em, you understand, but it's +the WAY they're a-comin'." + +"Yes, I know. I understand," nodded the youth, gravely, his eyes +sweeping the fine old house before him. "Well, I suppose that part +can't be helped. But I'm glad you're doing--just what you are doing. +That WILL help a whole lot," he finished with a bright smile, as he +wheeled about and rode rapidly down the driveway. + +Back on the steps Nancy wagged her head wisely. + +"I ain't surprised, Master Jimmy," she declared aloud, her admiring +eyes following the handsome figures of horse and man. "I ain't +surprised that you ain't lettin' no grass grow under your feet 'bout +inquirin' for Miss Pollyanna. I said long ago 'twould come sometime, +an' it's bound to--what with your growin' so handsome and tall. An' I +hope 'twill; I do, I do. It'll be just like a book, what with her +a-findin' you an' gettin' you into that grand home with Mr. Pendleton. +My, but who'd ever take you now for that little Jimmy Bean that used +to be! I never did see such a change in anybody--I didn't, I didn't!" +she answered, with one last look at the rapidly disappearing figures +far down the road. + +Something of the same thought must have been in the mind of John +Pendleton some time later that same morning, for, from the veranda of +his big gray house on Pendleton Hill, John Pendleton was watching the +rapid approach of that same horse and rider; and in his eyes was an +expression very like the one that had been in Mrs. Nancy Durgin's. On +his lips, too, was an admiring "Jove! what a handsome pair!" as the +two dashed by on the way to the stable. + +Five minutes later the youth came around the corner of the house and +slowly ascended the veranda steps. + +"Well, my boy, is it true? Are they coming?" asked the man, with +visible eagerness. + +"Yes." + +"When?" + +"To-morrow." The young fellow dropped himself into a chair. + +At the crisp terseness of the answer, John Pendleton frowned. He threw +a quick look into the young man's face. For a moment he hesitated; +then, a little abruptly, he asked: + +"Why, son, what's the matter?" + +"Matter? Nothing, sir." + +"Nonsense! I know better. You left here an hour ago so eager to be off +that wild horses could not have held you. Now you sit humped up in +that chair and look as if wild horses couldn't drag you out of it. If +I didn't know better I'd think you weren't glad that our friends are +coming." + +He paused, evidently for a reply. But he did not get it. + +"Why, Jim, AREN'T you glad they're coming?" + +The young fellow laughed and stirred restlessly. + +"Why, yes, of course." + +"Humph! You act like it." + +The youth laughed again. A boyish red flamed into his face. + +"Well, it's only that I was thinking--of Pollyanna." + +"Pollyanna! Why, man alive, you've done nothing but prattle of +Pollyanna ever since you came home from Boston and found she was +expected. I thought you were dying to see Pollyanna." + +The other leaned forward with curious intentness. + +"That's exactly it! See? You said it a minute ago. It's just as if +yesterday wild horses couldn't keep me from seeing Pollyanna; and now, +to-day, when I know she's coming--they couldn't drag me to see her." + +"Why, JIM!" + +At the shocked incredulity on John Pendleton's face, the younger man +fell back in his chair with an embarrassed laugh. + +"Yes, I know. It sounds nutty, and I don't expect I can make you +understand. But, somehow, I don't think--I ever wanted Pollyanna to +grow up. She was such a dear, just as she was. I like to think of her +as I saw her last, her earnest, freckled little face, her yellow +pigtails, her tearful: 'Oh, yes, I'm glad I'm going; but I think I +shall be a little gladder when I come back.' That's the last time I +saw her. You know we were in Egypt that time she was here four years +ago." + +"I know. I see exactly what you mean, too. I think I felt the same +way--till I saw her last winter in Rome." + +The other turned eagerly. + +"Sure enough, you have seen her! Tell me about her." + +A shrewd twinkle came into John Pendleton's eyes. + +"Oh, but I thought you didn't want to know Pollyanna--grown up." + +With a grimace the young fellow tossed this aside. + +"Is she pretty?" + +"Oh, ye young men!" shrugged John Pendleton, in mock despair. "Always +the first question--'Is she pretty?'!" + +"Well, is she?" insisted the youth. + +"I'll let you judge for yourself. If you--On second thoughts, though, +I believe I won't. You might be too disappointed. Pollyanna isn't +pretty, so far as regular features, curls, and dimples go. In fact, to +my certain knowledge the great cross in Pollyanna's life thus far is +that she is so sure she isn't pretty. Long ago she told me that black +curls were one of the things she was going to have when she got to +Heaven; and last year in Rome she said something else. It wasn't much, +perhaps, so far as words went, but I detected the longing beneath. She +said she did wish that sometime some one would write a novel with a +heroine who had straight hair and a freckle on her nose; but that she +supposed she ought to be glad girls in books didn't have to have +them." + +"That sounds like the old Pollyanna." + +"Oh, you'll still find her--Pollyanna," smiled the man, quizzically. +"Besides, _I_ think she's pretty. Her eyes are lovely. She is the +picture of health. She carries herself with all the joyous springiness +of youth, and her whole face lights up so wonderfully when she talks +that you quite forget whether her features are regular or not" + +"Does she still--play the game?" + +John Pendleton smiled fondly. + +"I imagine she plays it, but she doesn't say much about it now, I +fancy. Anyhow, she didn't to me, the two or three times I saw her." + +There was a short silence; then, a little slowly, young Pendleton +said: + +"I think that was one of the things that was worrying me. That game +has been so much to so many people. It has meant so much everywhere, +all through the town! I couldn't bear to think of her giving it up and +NOT playing it. At the same time I couldn't fancy a grown-up Pollyanna +perpetually admonishing people to be glad for something. Someway, +I--well, as I said, I--I just didn't want Pollyanna to grow up, +anyhow." + +"Well, I wouldn't worry," shrugged the elder man, with a peculiar +smile. "Always, with Pollyanna, you know, it was the 'clearing-up +shower,' both literally and figuratively; and I think you'll find she +lives up to the same principle now--though perhaps not quite in the +same way. Poor child, I fear she'll need some kind of game to make +existence endurable, for a while, at least." + +"Do you mean because Mrs. Chilton has lost her money? Are they so very +poor, then?" + +"I suspect they are. In fact, they are in rather bad shape, so far as +money matters go, as I happen to know. Mrs. Chilton's own fortune has +shrunk unbelievably, and poor Tom's estate is very small, and +hopelessly full of bad debts--professional services never paid for, +and that never will be paid for. Tom could never say no when his help +was needed, and all the dead beats in town knew it and imposed on him +accordingly. Expenses have been heavy with him lately. Besides, he +expected great things when he should have completed this special work +in Germany. Naturally he supposed his wife and Pollyanna were more +than amply provided for through the Harrington estate; so he had no +worry in that direction." + +"Hm-m; I see, I see. Too bad, too bad!" + +"But that isn't all. It was about two months after Tom's death that I +saw Mrs. Chilton and Pollyanna in Rome, and Mrs. Chilton then was in a +terrible state. In addition to her sorrow, she had just begun to get +an inkling of the trouble with her finances, and she was nearly +frantic. She refused to come home. She declared she never wanted to +see Beldingsville, or anybody in it, again. You see, she has always +been a peculiarly proud woman, and it was all affecting her in a +rather curious way. Pollyanna said that her aunt seemed possessed with +the idea that Beldingsville had not approved of her marrying Dr. +Chilton in the first place, at her age; and now that he was dead, she +felt that they were utterly out of sympathy in any grief that she +might show. She resented keenly, too, the fact that they must now know +that she was poor as well as widowed. In short, she had worked herself +Into an utterly morbid, wretched state, as unreasonable as it was +terrible. Poor little Pollyanna! It was a marvel to me how she stood +it. All is, if Mrs. Chilton kept it up, and continues to keep it up, +that child will be a wreck. That's why I said Pollyanna would need +some kind of a game if ever anybody did." + +"The pity of it!--to think of that happening to Pollyanna!" exclaimed +the young man, in a voice that was not quite steady. + +"Yes; and you can see all is not right by the way they are coming +to-day--so quietly, with not a word to anybody. That was Polly +Chilton's doings, I'll warrant. She didn't WANT to be met by anybody. +I understand she wrote to no one but her Old Tom's wife, Mrs. Durgin, +who had the keys." + +"Yes, so Nancy told me--good old soul! She'd got the whole house open, +and had contrived somehow to make it look as if it wasn't a tomb of +dead hopes and lost pleasures. Of course the grounds looked fairly +well, for Old Tom has kept them up, after a fashion. But it made my +heart ache--the whole thing." + +There was a long silence, then, curtly, John Pendleton suggested: + +"They ought to be met." + +"They will be met." + +"Are YOU going to the station?" + +"I am." + +"Then you know what train they're coming on." + +"Oh, no. Neither does Nancy." + +"Then how will you manage?" + +"I'm going to begin in the morning and go to every train till they +come," laughed the young man, a bit grimly. "Timothy's going, too, +with the family carriage. After all, there aren't many trains, anyway, +that they can come on, you know." + +"Hm-m, I know," said John Pendleton. "Jim, I admire your nerve, but +not your judgment. I'm glad you're going to follow your nerve and not +your judgment, however--and I wish you good luck." + +"Thank you, sir," smiled the young man dolefully. "I need 'em--your +good wishes--all right, all right, as Nancy says." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +WHEN POLLYANNA CAME + + +As the train neared Beldingsville, Pollyanna watched her aunt +anxiously. All day Mrs. Chilton had been growing more and more +restless, more and more gloomy; and Pollyanna was fearful of the time +when the familiar home station should be reached. + +As Pollyanna looked at her aunt, her heart ached. She was thinking +that she would not have believed it possible that any one could have +changed and aged so greatly in six short months. Mrs. Chilton's eyes +were lusterless, her cheeks pallid and shrunken, and her forehead +crossed and recrossed by fretful lines. Her mouth drooped at the +corners, and her hair was combed tightly back in the unbecoming +fashion that had been hers when Pollyanna first had seen her, years +before. All the softness and sweetness that seemed to have come to her +with her marriage had dropped from her like a cloak, leaving uppermost +the old hardness and sourness that had been hers when she was Miss +Polly Harrington, unloved, and unloving. + +"Pollyanna!" Mrs. Chilton's voice was incisive. + +Pollyanna started guiltily. She had an uncomfortable feeling that her +aunt might have read her thoughts. + +"Yes, auntie." + +"Where is that black bag--the little one?" + +"Right here." + +"Well, I wish you'd get out my black veil. We're nearly there." + +"But it's so hot and thick, auntie!" + +"Pollyanna, I asked for that black veil. If you'd please learn to do +what I ask without arguing about it, it would be a great deal easier +for me. I want that veil. Do you suppose I'm going to give all +Beldingsville a chance to see how I 'take it'?" + +"Oh, auntie, they'd never be there in THAT spirit," protested +Pollyanna, hurriedly rummaging in the black bag for the much-wanted +veil. "Besides, there won't be anybody there, anyway, to meet us. We +didn't tell any one we were coming, you know." + +"Yes, I know. We didn't TELL any one to meet us. But we instructed +Mrs. Durgin to have the rooms aired and the key under the mat for +to-day. Do you suppose Mary Durgin has kept that information to +herself? Not much! Half the town knows we're coming to-day, and a +dozen or more will 'happen around' the station about train time. I +know them! They want to see what Polly Harrington POOR looks like. +They--" + +"Oh, auntie, auntie," begged Pollyanna, with tears in her eyes. + +"If I wasn't so alone. If--the doctor were only here, and--" She +stopped speaking and turned away her head. Her mouth worked +convulsively. "Where is--that veil?" she choked huskily. + +"Yes, dear. Here it is--right here," comforted Pollyanna, whose only +aim now, plainly, was to get the veil into her aunt's hands with all +haste. "And here we are now almost there. Oh, auntie, I do wish you'd +had Old Tom or Timothy meet us!" + +"And ride home in state, as if we could AFFORD to keep such horses and +carriages? And when we know we shall have to sell them to-morrow? No, +I thank you, Pollyanna. I prefer to use the public carriage, under +those circumstances." + +"I know, but--" The train came to a jolting, jarring stop, and only a +fluttering sigh finished Pollyanna's sentence. + +As the two women stepped to the platform, Mrs. Chilton, in her black +veil, looked neither to the right nor the left. Pollyanna, however, +was nodding and smiling tearfully in half a dozen directions before +she had taken twice as many steps. Then, suddenly, she found herself +looking into a familiar, yet strangely unfamiliar face. + +"Why, it isn't--it IS--Jimmy!" she beamed, reaching forth a cordial +hand. "That is, I suppose I should say 'MR. PENDLETON,'" she corrected +herself with a shy smile that said plainly: "Now that you've grown so +tall and fine!" + +"I'd like to see you try it," challenged the youth, with a very +Jimmy-like tilt to his chin. He turned then to speak to Mrs. Chilton; +but that lady, with her head half averted, was hurrying on a little in +advance. + +He turned back to Pollyanna, his eyes troubled and sympathetic. + +"If you'd please come this way--both of you," he urged hurriedly. +"Timothy is here with the carriage." + +"Oh, how good of him," cried Pollyanna, but with an anxious glance at +the somber veiled figure ahead. Timidly she touched her aunt's arm. +"Auntie, dear, Timothy's here. He's come with the carriage. He's over +this side. And--this is Jimmy Bean, auntie. You remember Jimmy Bean!" + +In her nervousness and embarrassment Pollyanna did not notice that she +had given the young man the old name of his boyhood. Mrs. Chilton, +however, evidently did notice it. With palpable reluctance she turned +and inclined her head ever so slightly. + +"Mr.--Pendleton is very kind, I am sure; but--I am sorry that he or +Timothy took quite so much trouble," she said frigidly. + +"No trouble--no trouble at all, I assure you," laughed the young man, +trying to hide his embarrassment. "Now if you'll just let me have your +checks, so I can see to your baggage." + +"Thank you," began Mrs. Chilton, "but I am very sure we can--" + +But Pollyanna, with a relieved little "thank you!" had already passed +over the checks; and dignity demanded that Mrs. Chilton say no more. + +The drive home was a silent one. Timothy, vaguely hurt at the +reception he had met with at the hands of his former mistress, sat up +in front stiff and straight, with tense lips. Mrs. Chilton, after a +weary "Well, well, child, just as you please; I suppose we shall have +to ride home in it now!" had subsided into stern gloom. Pollyanna, +however, was neither stern, nor tense, nor gloomy. With eager, though +tearful eyes she greeted each loved landmark as they came to it. Only +once did she speak, and that was to say: + +"Isn't Jimmy fine? How he has improved! And hasn't he the nicest eyes +and smile?" + +She waited hopefully, but as there was no reply to this, she contented +herself with a cheerful: "Well, I think he has, anyhow." + +Timothy had been both too aggrieved and too afraid to tell Mrs. +Chilton what to expect at home; so the wide-flung doors and +flower-adorned rooms with Nancy courtesying on the porch were a +complete surprise to Mrs. Chilton and Pollyanna. + +"Why, Nancy, how perfectly lovely!" cried Pollyanna, springing lightly +to the ground. "Auntie, here's Nancy to welcome us. And only see how +charming she's made everything look!" + +Pollyanna's voice was determinedly cheerful, though it shook audibly. +This home-coming without the dear doctor whom she had loved so well +was not easy for her; and if hard for her, she knew something of what +it must be for her aunt. She knew, too, that the one thing her aunt +was dreading was a breakdown before Nancy, than which nothing could be +worse in her eyes. Behind the heavy black veil the eyes were brimming +and the lips were trembling, Pollyanna knew. She knew, too, that to +hide these facts her aunt would probably seize the first opportunity +for faultfinding, and make her anger a cloak to hide the fact that her +heart was breaking. Pollyanna was not surprised, therefore, to hear +her aunt's few cold words of greeting to Nancy followed by a sharp: +"Of course all this was very kind, Nancy; but, really, I would have +much preferred that you had not done it." + +All the joy fled from, Nancy's face. She looked hurt and frightened. + +"Oh, but Miss Polly--I mean, Mis' Chilton," she entreated; "it seemed +as if I couldn't let you--" + +"There, there, never mind, Nancy," interrupted Mrs. Chilton. "I--I +don't want to talk about it." And, with her head proudly high, she +swept out of the room. A minute later they heard the door of her +bedroom shut up-stairs. + +Nancy turned in dismay. + +"Oh, Miss Pollyanna, what is it? What have I done? I thought she'd +LIKE it. I meant it all right!" + +"Of course you did," wept Pollyanna, fumbling in her bag for her +handkerchief. "And 'twas lovely to have you do it, too,--just lovely." + +"But SHE didn't like it." + +"Yes, she did. But she didn't want to show she liked it. She was +afraid if she did she'd show--other things, and--Oh, Nancy, Nancy, I'm +so glad just to c-cry!" And Pollyanna was sobbing on Nancy's shoulder. + +"There, there, dear; so she shall, so she shall," soothed Nancy, +patting the heaving shoulders with one hand, and trying, with the +other, to make the corner of her apron serve as a handkerchief to wipe +her own tears away. + +"You see, I mustn't--cry--before--HER," faltered Pollyanna; "and it +WAS hard--coming here--the first time, you know, and all. And I KNEW +how she was feeling." + +"Of course, of course, poor lamb," crooned Nancy. "And to think the +first thing _I_ should have done was somethin' ter vex her, and--" + +"Oh, but she wasn't vexed at that," corrected Pollyanna, agitatedly. +"It's just her way, Nancy. You see, she doesn't like to show how badly +she feels about--about the doctor. And she's so afraid she WILL show +it that she--she just takes anything for an excuse to--to talk about. +She does it to me, too, just the same. So I know all about it. See?" + +"Oh, yes, I see, I do, I do." Nancy's lips snapped together a little +severely, and her sympathetic pats, for the minute, were even more +loving, if possible. "Poor lamb! I'm glad I come, anyhow, for your +sake." + +"Yes, so am I," breathed Pollyanna, gently drawing herself away and +wiping her eyes. "There, I feel better. And I do thank you ever so +much, Nancy, and I appreciate it. Now don't let us keep you when it's +time for you to go." + +"Ho! I'm thinkin' I'll stay for a spell," sniffed Nancy. + +"Stay! Why, Nancy, I thought you were married. Aren't you Timothy's +wife?" + +"Sure! But he won't mind--for you. He'd WANT me to stay--for you." + +"Oh, but, Nancy, we couldn't let you," demurred Pollyanna. "We can't +have anybody--now, you know. I'm going to do the work. Until we know +just how things are, we shall live very economically, Aunt Polly +says." + +"Ho! as if I'd take money from--" began Nancy, in bridling wrath; but +at the expression on the other's face she stopped, and let her words +dwindle off in a mumbling protest, as she hurried from the room to +look after her creamed chicken on the stove. + +Not until supper was over, and everything put in order, did Mrs. +Timothy Durgin consent to drive away with her husband; then she went +with evident reluctance, and with many pleadings to be allowed to come +"just ter help out a bit" at any time. + +After Nancy had gone, Pollyanna came into the living-room where Mrs. +Chilton was sitting alone, her hand over her eyes. + +"Well, dearie, shall I light up?" suggested Pollyanna, brightly. + +"Oh, I suppose so." + +"Wasn't Nancy a dear to fix us all up so nice?" + +No answer. + +"Where in the world she found all these flowers I can't imagine. She +has them in every room down here, and in both bedrooms, too." + +Still no answer. + +Pollyanna gave a half-stifled sigh and threw a wistful glance into her +aunt's averted face. After a moment she began again hopefully. + +"I saw Old Tom in the garden. Poor man, his rheumatism is worse than +ever. He was bent nearly double. He inquired very particularly for +you, and--" + +Mrs. Chilton turned with a sharp interruption. + +"Pollyanna, what are we going to do?" + +"Do? Why, the best we can, of course, dearie." + +Mrs. Chilton gave an impatient gesture. + +"Come, come, Pollyanna, do be serious for once. You'll find it is +serious, fast enough. WHAT are we going to DO? As you know, my income +has almost entirely stopped. Of course, some of the things are worth +something, I suppose; but Mr. Hart says very few of them will pay +anything at present. We have something in the bank, and a little +coming in, of course. And we have this house. But of what earthly use +is the house? We can't eat it, or wear it. It's too big for us, the +way we shall have to live; and we couldn't sell it for half what it's +really worth, unless we HAPPENED to find just the person that wanted +it." + +"Sell it! Oh, auntie, you wouldn't--this beautiful house full of +lovely things!" + +"I may have to, Pollyanna. We have to eat--unfortunately." + +"I know it; and I'm always SO hungry," mourned Pollyanna, with a +rueful laugh. "Still, I suppose I ought to be glad my appetite is so +good." + +"Very likely. You'd find something to be glad about, of course. But +what shall we do, child? I do wish you'd be serious for a minute." + +A quick change came to Pollyanna's face. + +"I am serious, Aunt Polly. I've been thinking. I--I wish I could earn +some money." + +"Oh, child, child, to think of my ever living to hear you say that!" +moaned the woman; "--a daughter of the Harringtons having to earn her +bread!" + +"Oh, but that isn't the way to look at it," laughed Pollyanna. "You +ought to be glad if a daughter of the Harringtons is SMART enough to +earn her bread! That isn't any disgrace, Aunt Polly." + +"Perhaps not; but it isn't very pleasant to one's pride, after the +position we've always occupied in Beldingsville, Pollyanna." + +Pollyanna did not seem to have heard. Her eyes were musingly fixed on +space. + +"If only I had some talent! If only I could do something better than +anybody else in the world," she sighed at last. "I can sing a little, +play a little, embroider a little, and darn a little; but I can't do +any of them well--not well enough to be paid for it. + +"I think I'd like best to cook," she resumed, after a minute's +silence, "and keep house. You know I loved that in Germany winters, +when Gretchen used to bother us so much by not coming when we wanted +her. But I don't exactly want to go into other people's kitchens to do +it." + +"As if I'd let you! Pollyanna!" shuddered Mrs. Chilton again. + +"And of course, to just work in our own kitchen here doesn't bring in +anything," bemoaned Pollyanna, "--not any money, I mean. And it's +money we need." + +"It most emphatically is," sighed Aunt Polly. + +There was a long silence, broken at last by Pollyanna. + +"To think that after all you've done for me, auntie--to think that +now, if I only could, I'd have such a splendid chance to help! And +yet--I can't do it. Oh, why wasn't I born with something that's worth +money?" + +"There, there, child, don't, don't! Of course, if the doctor--" The +words choked into silence. + +Pollyanna looked up quickly, and sprang to her feet. + +"Dear, dear, this will never do!" she exclaimed, with a complete +change of manner. "Don't you fret, auntie. What'll you wager that I +don't develop the most marvelous talent going, one of these days? +Besides, _I_ think it's real exciting--all this. There's so much +uncertainty in it. There's a lot of fun in wanting things--and then +watching for them to come. Just living along and KNOWING you're going +to have everything you want is so--so humdrum, you know," she +finished, with a gay little laugh. + +Mrs. Chilton, however, did not laugh. She only sighed and said: + +"Dear me, Pollyanna, what a child you are!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +A MATTER OF ADJUSTMENT + + +The first few days at Beldingsville were not easy either for Mrs. +Chilton or for Pollyanna. They were days of adjustment; and days of +adjustment are seldom easy. + +From travel and excitement it was not easy to put one's mind to the +consideration of the price of butter and the delinquencies of the +butcher. From having all one's time for one's own, it was not easy to +find always the next task clamoring to be done. Friends and neighbors +called, too, and although Pollyanna welcomed them with glad +cordiality, Mrs. Chilton, when possible, excused herself; and always +she said bitterly to Pollyanna: + +"Curiosity, I suppose, to see how Polly Harrington likes being poor." + +Of the doctor Mrs. Chilton seldom spoke, yet Pollyanna knew very well +that almost never was he absent from her thoughts; and that more than +half her taciturnity was but her usual cloak for a deeper emotion +which she did not care to show. + +Jimmy Pendleton Pollyanna saw several times during that first month. +He came first with John Pendleton for a somewhat stiff and ceremonious +call--not that it was either stiff or ceremonious until after Aunt +Polly came into the room; then it was both. For some reason Aunt Polly +had not excused herself on this occasion. After that Jimmy had come by +himself, once with flowers, once with a book for Aunt Polly, twice +with no excuse at all. Pollyanna welcomed him with frank pleasure +always. Aunt Polly, after that first time, did not see him at all. + +To the most of their friends and acquaintances Pollyanna said little +about the change in their circumstances. To Jimmy, however, she talked +freely, and always her constant cry was: "If only I could do something +to bring in some money!" + +"I'm getting to be the most mercenary little creature you ever saw," +she laughed dolefully. "I've got so I measure everything with a dollar +bill, and I actually think in quarters and dimes. You see, Aunt Polly +does feel so poor!" + +"It's a shame!" stormed Jimmy. + +"I know it. But, honestly, I think she feels a little poorer than she +needs to--she's brooded over it so. But I do wish I could help!" + +Jimmy looked down at the wistful, eager face with its luminous eyes, +and his own eyes softened. + +[Illustration: See Frontispiece: "Jimmy looked down at the wistful, +eager face"] + +"What do you WANT to do--if you could do it?" he asked. + +"Oh, I want to cook and keep house," smiled Pollyanna, with a pensive +sigh. "I just love to beat eggs and sugar, and hear the soda gurgle +its little tune in the cup of sour milk. I'm happy if I've got a day's +baking before me. But there isn't any money in that--except in +somebody else's kitchen, of course. And I--I don't exactly love it +well enough for that!" + +"I should say not!" ejaculated the young fellow. + +Once more he glanced down at the expressive face so near him. This +time a queer look came to the corners of his mouth. He pursed his +lips, then spoke, a slow red mounting to his forehead. + +"Well, of course you might--marry. Have you thought of that--Miss +Pollyanna?" + +Pollyanna gave a merry laugh. Voice and manner were unmistakably those +of a girl quite untouched by even the most far-reaching of Cupid's +darts. + +"Oh, no, I shall never marry," she said blithely. "In the first place +I'm not pretty, you know; and in the second place, I'm going to live +with Aunt Polly and take care of her." + +"Not pretty, eh?" smiled Pendleton, quizzically. "Did it +ever--er--occur to you that there might be a difference of opinion on +that, Pollyanna?" + +Pollyanna shook her head. + +"There couldn't be. I've got a mirror, you see," she objected, with a +merry glance. + +It sounded like coquetry. In any other girl it would have been +coquetry, Pendleton decided. But, looking into the face before him +now, Pendleton knew that it was not coquetry. He knew, too, suddenly, +why Pollyanna had seemed so different from any girl he had ever known. +Something of her old literal way of looking at things still clung to +her. + +"Why aren't you pretty?" he asked. + +Even as he uttered the question, and sure as he was of his estimate of +Pollyanna's character, Pendleton quite held his breath at his +temerity. He could not help thinking of how quickly any other girl he +knew would have resented that implied acceptance of her claim to no +beauty. But Pollyanna's first words showed him that even this lurking +fear of his was quite groundless. + +"Why, I just am not," she laughed, a little ruefully. "I wasn't made +that way. Maybe you don't remember, but long ago, when I was a little +girl, it always seemed to me that one of the nicest things Heaven was +going to give me when I got there was black curls." + +"And is that your chief desire now?" + +"N-no, maybe not," hesitated Pollyanna. "But I still think I'd like +them. Besides, my eyelashes aren't long enough, and my nose isn't +Grecian, or Roman, or any of those delightfully desirable ones that +belong to a 'type.' It's just NOSE. And my face is too long, or too +short, I've forgotten which; but I measured it once with one of those +'correct-for-beauty' tests, and it wasn't right, anyhow. And they said +the width of the face should be equal to five eyes, and the width of +the eyes equal to--to something else. I've forgotten that, too--only +that mine wasn't." + +"What a lugubrious picture!" laughed Pendleton. Then, with his gaze +admiringly regarding the girl's animated face and expressive eyes, he +asked: + +"Did you ever look in the mirror when you were talking, Pollyanna?" + +"Why, no, of course not!" + +"Well, you'd better try it sometime." + +"What a funny idea! Imagine my doing it," laughed the girl. "What +shall I say? Like this? 'Now, you, Pollyanna, what if your eyelashes +aren't long, and your nose is just a nose, be glad you've got SOME +eyelashes and SOME nose!'" + +Pendleton joined in her laugh, but an odd expression came to his face. + +"Then you still play--the game," he said, a little diffidently. + +Pollyanna turned soft eyes of wonder full upon him. + +"Why, of course! Why, Jimmy, I don't believe I could have lived--the +last six months--if it hadn't been for that blessed game." Her voice +shook a little. + +"I haven't heard you say much about it," he commented. + +She changed color. + +"I know. I think I'm afraid--of saying too much--to outsiders, who +don't care, you know. It wouldn't sound quite the same from me now, at +twenty, as it did when I was ten. I realize that, of course. Folks +don't like to be preached at, you know," she finished with a whimsical +smile. + +"I know," nodded the young fellow gravely. "But I wonder sometimes, +Pollyanna, if you really understand yourself what that game is, and +what it has done for those who are playing it." + +"I know--what it has done for myself." Her voice was low, and her eyes +were turned away. + +"You see, it really WORKS, if you play it," he mused aloud, after a +short silence. "Somebody said once that it would revolutionize the +world if everybody would really play it. And I believe it would." + +"Yes; but some folks don't want to be revolutionized," smiled +Pollyanna. "I ran across a man in Germany last year. He had lost his +money, and was in hard luck generally. Dear, dear, but he was gloomy! +Somebody in my presence tried to cheer him up one day by saying, +'Come, come, things might be worse, you know!' Dear, dear, but you +should have heard that man then! + +"'If there is anything on earth that makes me mad clear through,' he +snarled, 'it is to be told that things might be worse, and to be +thankful for what I've got left. These people who go around with an +everlasting grin on their faces caroling forth that they are thankful +that they can breathe, or eat, or walk, or lie down, I have no use +for. I don't WANT to breathe, or eat, or walk, or lie down--if things +are as they are now with me. And when I'm told that I ought to be +thankful for some such tommyrot as that, it makes me just want to go +out and shoot somebody!'" + +"Imagine what I'D have gotten if I'd have introduced the glad game to +that man!" laughed Pollyanna. + +"I don't care. He needed it," answered Jimmy. + +"Of course he did--but he wouldn't have thanked me for giving it to +him." + +"I suppose not. But, listen! As he was, under his present philosophy +and scheme of living, he made himself and everybody else wretched, +didn't he? Well, just suppose he was playing the game. While he was +trying to hunt up something to be glad about in everything that had +happened to him, he COULDN'T be at the same time grumbling and +growling about how bad things were; so that much would be gained. He'd +be a whole lot easier to live with, both for himself and for his +friends. Meanwhile, just thinking of the doughnut instead of the hole +couldn't make things any worse for him, and it might make things +better; for it wouldn't give him such a gone feeling in the pit of his +stomach, and his digestion would be better. I tell you, troubles are +poor things to hug. They've got too many prickers." + +Pollyanna smiled appreciatively. + +"That makes me think of what I told a poor old lady once. She was one +of my Ladies' Aiders out West, and was one of the kind of people that +really ENJOYS being miserable and telling over her causes for +unhappiness. I was perhaps ten years old, and was trying to teach her +the game. I reckon I wasn't having very good success, and evidently I +at last dimly realized the reason, for I said to her triumphantly: +'Well, anyhow, you can be glad you've got such a lot of things to make +you miserable, for you love to be miserable so well!'" + +"Well, if that wasn't a good one on her," chuckled Jimmy. + +Pollyanna raised her eyebrows. + +"I'm afraid she didn't enjoy it any more than the man in Germany would +have if I'd told him the same thing." + +"But they ought to be told, and you ought to tell--" Pendleton stopped +short with so queer an expression on his face that Pollyanna looked at +him in surprise. + +"Why, Jimmy, what is it?" + +"Oh, nothing. I was only thinking," he answered, puckering his lips. +"Here I am urging you to do the very thing I was afraid you WOULD do +before I saw you, you know. That is, I was afraid before I saw you, +that--that--" He floundered into a helpless pause, looking very red +indeed. + +"Well, Jimmy Pendleton," bridled the girl, "you needn't think you can +stop there, sir. Now just what do you mean by all that, please?" + +"Oh, er--n-nothing, much." + +"I'm waiting," murmured Pollyanna. Voice and manner were calm and +confident, though the eyes twinkled mischievously. + +The young fellow hesitated, glanced at her smiling face, and +capitulated. + +"Oh, well, have it your own way," he shrugged. "It's only that I was +worrying--a little--about that game, for fear you WOULD talk it just +as you used to, you know, and--" But a merry peal of laughter +interrupted him. + +"There, what did I tell you? Even you were worried, it seems, lest I +should be at twenty just what I was at ten!" + +"N-no, I didn't mean--Pollyanna, honestly, I thought--of course I +knew--" But Pollyanna only put her hands to her ears and went off into +another peal of laughter. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +TWO LETTERS + + +It was toward the latter part of June that the letter came to +Pollyanna from Della Wetherby. + +"I am writing to ask you a favor," Miss Wetherby wrote. "I am hoping +you can tell me of some quiet private family in Beldingsville that +will be willing to take my sister to board for the summer. There would +be three of them, Mrs. Carew, her secretary, and her adopted son, +Jamie. (You remember Jamie, don't you?) They do not like to go to an +ordinary hotel or boarding house. My sister is very tired, and the +doctor has advised her to go into the country for a complete rest and +change. He suggested Vermont or New Hampshire. We immediately thought +of Beldingsville and you; and we wondered if you couldn't recommend +just the right place to us. I told Ruth I would write you. They would +like to go right away, early in July, if possible. Would it be asking +too much to request you to let us know as soon as you conveniently can +if you do know of a place? Please address me here. My sister is with +us here at the Sanatorium for a few weeks' treatment. + +"Hoping for a favorable reply, I am, + + "Most cordially yours, + + "DELLA WETHERBY." + +For the first few minutes after the letter was finished, Pollyanna sat +with frowning brow, mentally searching the homes of Beldingsville for +a possible boarding house for her old friends. Then a sudden something +gave her thoughts a new turn, and with a joyous exclamation she +hurried to her aunt in the living-room. + +"Auntie, auntie," she panted; "I've got just the loveliest idea. I +told you something would happen, and that I'd develop that wonderful +talent sometime. Well, I have. I have right now. Listen! I've had a +letter from Miss Wetherby, Mrs. Carew's sister--where I stayed that +winter in Boston, you know--and they want to come into the country to +board for the summer, and Miss Wetherby's written to see if I didn't +know a place for them. They don't want a hotel or an ordinary boarding +house, you see. And at first I didn't know of one; but now I do. I do, +Aunt Polly! Just guess where 'tis." + +"Dear me, child," ejaculated Mrs. Chilton, "how you do run on! I +should think you were a dozen years old instead of a woman grown. Now +what are you talking about?" + +"About a boarding place for Mrs. Carew and Jamie. I've found it," +babbled Pollyanna. + +"Indeed! Well, what of it? Of what possible interest can that be to +me, child?" murmured Mrs. Chilton, drearily. + +"Because it's HERE. I'm going to have them here, auntie." + +"Pollyanna!" Mrs. Chilton was sitting erect in horror. + +"Now, auntie, please don't say no--please don't," begged Pollyanna, +eagerly. "Don't you see? This is my chance, the chance I've been +waiting for; and it's just dropped right into my hands. We can do it +lovely. We have plenty of room, and you know I CAN cook and keep +house. And now there'd be money in it, for they'd pay well, I know; +and they'd love to come, I'm sure. There'd be three of them--there's a +secretary with them." + +"But, Pollyanna, I can't! Turn this house into a boarding house?--the +Harrington homestead a common boarding house? Oh, Pollyanna, I can't, +I can't!" + +"But it wouldn't be a common boarding house, dear. 'Twill be an +uncommon one. Besides, they're our friends. It would be like having +our friends come to see us; only they'd be PAYING guests, so meanwhile +we'd be earning money--money that we NEED, auntie, money that we +need," she emphasized significantly. + +A spasm of hurt pride crossed Polly Chilton's face. With a low moan +she fell back in her chair. + +"But how could you do it?" she asked at last, faintly. "You couldn't +do the work part alone, child!" + +"Oh, no, of course not," chirped Pollyanna. (Pollyanna was on sure +ground now. She knew her point was won.) "But I could do the cooking +and the overseeing, and I'm sure I could get one of Nancy's younger +sisters to help about the rest. Mrs. Durgin would do the laundry part +just as she does now." + +"But, Pollyanna, I'm not well at all--you know I'm not. I couldn't do +much." + +"Of course not. There's no reason why you should," scorned Pollyanna, +loftily. "Oh, auntie, won't it be splendid? Why, it seems too good to +be true--money just dropped into my hands like that!" + +"Dropped into your hands, indeed! You still have some things to learn +in this world, Pollyanna, and one is that summer boarders don't drop +money into anybody's hands without looking very sharply to it that +they get ample return. By the time you fetch and carry and bake and +brew until you are ready to sink, and by the time you nearly kill +yourself trying to serve everything to order from fresh-laid eggs to +the weather, you will believe what I tell you." + +"All right, I'll remember," laughed Pollyanna. "But I'm not doing any +worrying now; and I'm going to hurry and write Miss Wetherby at once +so I can give it to Jimmy Bean to mail when he comes out this +afternoon." + +Mrs. Chilton stirred restlessly. + +"Pollyanna, I do wish you'd call that young man by his proper name. +That 'Bean' gives me the shivers. His name is 'Pendleton' now, as I +understand it." + +"So it is," agreed Pollyanna, "but I do forget it half the time. I +even call him that to his face, sometimes, and of course that's +dreadful, when he really is adopted, and all. But you see I'm so +excited," she finished, as she danced from the room. + +She had the letter all ready for Jimmy when he called at four o'clock. +She was still quivering--with excitement, and she lost no time in +telling her visitor what it was all about. + +"And I'm crazy to see them, besides," she cried, when she had told him +of her plans. "I've never seen either of them since that winter. You +know I told you--didn't I tell you?--about Jamie." + +"Oh, yes, you told me." There was a touch of constraint in the young +man's voice. + +"Well, isn't it splendid, if they can come?" + +"Why, I don't know as I should call it exactly splendid," he parried. + +"Not splendid that I've got such a chance to help Aunt Polly out, for +even this little while? Why, Jimmy, of course it's splendid." + +"Well, it strikes me that it's going to be rather HARD--for you," +bridled Jimmy, with more than a shade of irritation. + +"Yes, of course, in some ways. But I shall be so glad for the money +coming in that I'll think of that all the time. You see," she sighed, +"how mercenary I am, Jimmy." + +For a long minute there was no reply; then, a little abruptly, the +young man asked: + +"Let's see, how old is this Jamie now?" + +Pollyanna glanced up with a merry smile. + +"Oh, I remember--you never did like his name, 'Jamie,'" she twinkled. +"Never mind; he's adopted now, legally, I believe, and has taken the +name of Carew. So you can call him that." + +"But that isn't telling me how old he is," reminded Jimmy, stiffly. + +"Nobody knows, exactly, I suppose. You know he couldn't tell; but I +imagine he's about your age. I wonder how he is now. I've asked all +about it in this letter, anyway." + +"Oh, you have!" Pendleton looked down at the letter in his hand and +flipped it a little spitefully. He was thinking that he would like to +drop it, to tear it up, to give it to somebody, to throw it away, to +do anything with it--but mail it. + +Jimmy knew perfectly well that he was jealous, that he always had been +jealous of this youth with the name so like and yet so unlike his own. +Not that he was in love with Pollyanna, he assured himself wrathfully. +He was not that, of course. It was just that he did not care to have +this strange youth with the sissy name come to Beldingsville and be +always around to spoil all their good times. He almost said as much to +Pollyanna, but something stayed the words on his lips; and after a +time he took his leave, carrying the letter with him. + +That Jimmy did not drop the letter, tear it up, give it to anybody, or +throw it away was evidenced a few days later, for Pollyanna received a +prompt and delighted reply from Miss Wetherby; and when Jimmy came +next time he heard it read--or rather he heard part of it, for +Pollyanna prefaced the reading by saying: + +"Of course the first part is just where she says how glad they are to +come, and all that. I won't read that. But the rest I thought you'd +like to hear, because you've heard me talk so much about them. +Besides, you'll know them yourself pretty soon, of course. I'm +depending a whole lot on you, Jimmy, to help me make it pleasant for +them." + +"Oh, are you!" + +"Now don't be sarcastic, just because you don't like Jamie's name," +reproved Pollyanna, with mock severity. "You'll like HIM, I'm sure, +when you know him; and you'll LOVE Mrs. Carew." + +"Will I, indeed?" retorted Jimmy huffily. "Well, that IS a serious +prospect. Let us hope, if I do, the lady will be so gracious as to +reciprocate." + +"Of course," dimpled Pollyanna. "Now listen, and I'll read to you +about her. This letter is from her sister, Della--Miss Wetherby, you +know, at the Sanatorium." + +"All right. Go ahead!" directed Jimmy, with a somewhat too evident +attempt at polite interest. And Pollyanna, still smiling +mischievously, began to read. + +"You ask me to tell you everything about everybody. That is a large +commission, but I'll do the best I can. To begin with, I think you'll +find my sister quite changed. The new interests that have come into +her life during the last six years have done wonders for her. Just now +she is a bit thin and tired from overwork, but a good rest will soon +remedy that, and you'll see how young and blooming and happy she +looks. Please notice I said HAPPY. That won't mean so much to you as +it does to me, of course, for you were too young to realize quite how +unhappy she was when you first knew her that winter in Boston. Life +was such a dreary, hopeless thing to her then; and now it is so full +of interest and joy. + +"First she has Jamie, and when you see them together you won't need to +be told what he is to her. To be sure, we are no nearer knowing +whether he is the REAL Jamie, or not, but my sister loves him like an +own son now, and has legally adopted him, as I presume you know. + +"Then she has her girls. Do you remember Sadie Dean, the salesgirl? +Well, from getting interested in her, and trying to help her to a +happier living, my sister has broadened her efforts little by little, +until she has scores of girls now who regard her as their own best and +particular good angel. She has started a Home for Working Girls along +new lines. Half a dozen wealthy and influential men and women are +associated with her, of course, but she is head and shoulders of the +whole thing, and never hesitates to give HERSELF to each and every one +of the girls. You can imagine what that means in nerve strain. Her +chief support and right-hand man is her secretary, this same Sadie +Dean. You'll find HER changed, too, yet she is the same old Sadie. + +"As for Jamie--poor Jamie! The great sorrow of his life is that he +knows now he can never walk. For a time we all had hopes. He was here +at the Sanatorium under Dr. Ames for a year, and he improved to such +an extent that he can go now with crutches. But the poor boy will +always be a cripple--so far as his feet are concerned, but never as +regards anything else. Someway, after you know Jamie, you seldom think +of him as a cripple, his SOUL is so free. I can't explain it, but +you'll know what I mean when you see him; and he has retained, to a +marvelous degree, his old boyish enthusiasm and joy of living. There +is just one thing--and only one, I believe--that would utterly quench +that bright spirit and cast him into utter despair; and that is to +find that he is not Jamie Kent, our nephew. So long has he brooded +over this, and so ardently has he wished it, that he has come actually +to believe that he IS the real Jamie; but if he isn't, I hope he will +never find it out." + +"There, that's all she says about them," announced Pollyanna, folding +up the closely-written sheets in her hands. "But isn't that +interesting?" + +"Indeed it is!" There was a ring of genuineness in Jimmy's voice now. +Jimmy was thinking suddenly of what his own good legs meant to him. He +even, for the moment, was willing that this poor crippled youth should +have a PART of Pollyanna's thoughts and attentions, if he were not so +presuming as to claim too much of them, of course! "By George! it is +tough for the poor chap, and no mistake." + +"Tough! You don't know anything about it, Jimmy Bean," choked +Pollyanna; "but _I_ do. _I_ couldn't walk once. _I_ KNOW!" + +"Yes, of course, of course," frowned the youth, moving restively in +his seat. Jimmy, looking into Pollyanna's sympathetic face and +brimming eyes was suddenly not so sure, after all, that he WAS willing +to have this Jamie come to town--if just to THINK of him made +Pollyanna look like that! + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE PAYING GUESTS + + +The few intervening days before the expected arrival of "those +dreadful people," as Aunt Polly termed her niece's paying guests, were +busy ones indeed for Pollyanna--but they were happy ones, too, as +Pollyanna refused to be weary, or discouraged, or dismayed, no matter +how puzzling were the daily problems she had to meet. + +Summoning Nancy, and Nancy's younger sister, Betty, to her aid, +Pollyanna systematically went through the house, room by room, and +arranged for the comfort and convenience of her expected boarders. +Mrs. Chilton could do but little to assist. In the first place she was +not well. In the second place her mental attitude toward the whole +idea was not conducive to aid or comfort, for at her side stalked +always the Harrington pride of name and race, and on her lips was the +constant moan: + +"Oh, Pollyanna, Pollyanna, to think of the Harrington homestead ever +coming to this!" + +"It isn't, dearie," Pollyanna at last soothed laughingly. "It's the +Carews that are COMING TO THE HARRINGTON HOMESTEAD!" + +But Mrs. Chilton was not to be so lightly diverted, and responded only +with a scornful glance and a deeper sigh, so Pollyanna was forced to +leave her to travel alone her road of determined gloom. + +Upon the appointed day, Pollyanna with Timothy (who owned the +Harrington horses now) went to the station to meet the afternoon +train. Up to this hour there had been nothing but confidence and +joyous anticipation in Pollyanna's heart. But with the whistle of the +engine there came to her a veritable panic of doubt, shyness, and +dismay. She realized suddenly what she, Pollyanna, almost alone and +unaided, was about to do. She remembered Mrs. Carew's wealth, +position, and fastidious tastes. She recollected, too, that this would +be a new, tall, young-man Jamie, quite unlike the boy she had known. + +For one awful moment she thought only of getting away--somewhere, +anywhere. + +"Timothy, I--I feel sick. I'm not well. I--tell 'em--er--not to come," +she faltered, poising as if for flight. + +"Ma'am!" exclaimed the startled Timothy. + +One glance into Timothy's amazed face was enough. Pollyanna laughed +and threw back her shoulders alertly. + +"Nothing. Never mind! I didn't mean it, of course, Timothy. +Quick--see! They're almost here," she panted. And Pollyanna hurried +forward, quite herself once more. + +She knew them at once. Even had there been any doubt in her mind, the +crutches in the hands of the tall, brown-eyed young man would have +piloted her straight to her goal. + +There were a brief few minutes of eager handclasps and incoherent +exclamations, then, somehow, she found herself in the carriage with +Mrs. Carew at her side, and Jamie and Sadie Dean in front. She had a +chance, then, for the first time, really to see her friends, and to +note the changes the six years had wrought. + +In regard to Mrs. Carew, her first feeling was one of surprise. She +had forgotten that Mrs. Carew was so lovely. She had forgotten that +the eyelashes were so long, that the eyes they shaded were so +beautiful. She even caught herself thinking enviously of how exactly +that perfect face must tally, figure by figure, with that dread +beauty-test-table. But more than anything else she rejoiced in the +absence of the old fretful lines of gloom and bitterness. + +Then she turned to Jamie. Here again she was surprised, and for much +the same reason. Jamie, too, had grown handsome. To herself Pollyanna +declared that he was really distinguished looking. His dark eyes, +rather pale face, and dark, waving hair she thought most attractive. +Then she caught a glimpse of the crutches at his side, and a spasm of +aching sympathy contracted her throat. + +From Jamie Pollyanna turned to Sadie Dean. + +Sadie, so far as features went, looked much as she had when Pollyanna +first saw her in the Public Garden; but Pollyanna did not need a +second glance to know that Sadie, so far as hair, dress, temper, +speech, and disposition were concerned, was a very different Sadie +indeed. + +Then Jamie spoke. + +"How good you were to let us come," he said to Pollyanna. "Do you know +what I thought of when you wrote that we could come?" + +"Why, n-no, of course not," stammered Pollyanna. Pollyanna was still +seeing the crutches at Jamie's side, and her throat was still +tightened from that aching sympathy. + +"Well, I thought of the little maid in the Public Garden with her bag +of peanuts for Sir Lancelot and Lady Guinevere, and I knew that you +were just putting us in their places, for if you had a bag of peanuts, +and we had none, you wouldn't be happy till you'd shared it with us." + +"A bag of peanuts, indeed!" laughed Pollyanna. + +"Oh, of course in this case, your bag of peanuts happened to be airy +country rooms, and cow's milk, and real eggs from a real hen's nest," +returned Jamie whimsically; "but it amounts to the same thing. And +maybe I'd better warn you--you remember how greedy Sir Lancelot +was;--well--" He paused meaningly. + +"All right, I'll take the risk," dimpled Pollyanna, thinking how glad +she was that Aunt Polly was not present to hear her worst predictions +so nearly fulfilled thus early. "Poor Sir Lancelot! I wonder if +anybody feeds him now, or if he's there at all." + +"Well, if he's there, he's fed," interposed Mrs. Carew, merrily. "This +ridiculous boy still goes down there at least once a week with his +pockets bulging with peanuts and I don't know what all. He can be +traced any time by the trail of small grains he leaves behind him; and +half the time, when I order my cereal for breakfast it isn't +forthcoming, because, forsooth, 'Master Jamie has fed it to the +pigeons, ma'am!'" + +"Yes, but let me tell you," plunged in Jamie, enthusiastically. And +the next minute Pollyanna found herself listening with all the old +fascination to a story of a couple of squirrels in a sunlit garden. +Later she saw what Della Wetherby had meant in her letter, for when +the house was reached, it came as a distinct shock to her to see Jamie +pick up his crutches and swing himself out of the carriage with their +aid. She knew then that already in ten short minutes he had made her +forget that he was lame. + +To Pollyanna's great relief that first dreaded meeting between Aunt +Polly and the Carew party passed off much better than she had feared. +The newcomers were so frankly delighted with the old house and +everything in it, that it was an utter impossibility for the mistress +and owner of it all to continue her stiff attitude of disapproving +resignation to their presence. Besides, as was plainly evident before +an hour had passed, the personal charm and magnetism of Jamie had +pierced even Aunt Polly's armor of distrust; and Pollyanna knew that +at least one of her own most dreaded problems was a problem no longer, +for already Aunt Polly was beginning to play the stately, yet gracious +hostess to these, her guests. + +Notwithstanding her relief at Aunt Polly's change of attitude, +however, Pollyanna did not find that all was smooth sailing, by any +means. There was work, and plenty of it, that must be done. Nancy's +sister, Betty, was pleasant and willing, but she was not Nancy, as +Pollyanna soon found. She needed training, and training took time. +Pollyanna worried, too, for fear everything should not be quite right. +To Pollyanna, those days, a dusty chair was a crime and a fallen cake +a tragedy. + +Gradually, however, after incessant arguments and pleadings on the +part of Mrs. Carew and Jamie, Pollyanna came to take her tasks more +easily, and to realize that the real crime and tragedy in her friends' +eyes was, not the dusty chair nor the fallen cake, but the frown of +worry and anxiety on her own face. + +"Just as if it wasn't enough for you to LET us come," Jamie declared, +"without just killing yourself with work to get us something to eat." + +"Besides, we ought not to eat so much, anyway," Mrs. Carew laughed, +"or else we shall get 'digestion,' as one of my girls calls it when +her food disagrees with her." + +It was wonderful, after all, how easily the three new members of the +family fitted into the daily life. Before twenty-four hours had +passed, Mrs. Carew had gotten Mrs. Chilton to asking really interested +questions about the new Home for Working Girls, and Sadie Dean and +Jamie were quarreling over the chance to help with the pea-shelling or +the flower-picking. + +The Carews had been at the Harrington homestead nearly a week when one +evening John Pendleton and Jimmy called. Pollyanna had been hoping +they would come soon. She had, indeed, urged it very strongly before +the Carews came. She made the introductions now with visible pride. + +"You are such good friends of mine, I want you to know each other, and +be good friends together," she explained. + +That Jimmy and Mr. Pendleton should be clearly impressed with the +charm and beauty of Mrs. Carew did not surprise Pollyanna in the +least; but the look that came into Mrs. Carew's face at sight of Jimmy +did surprise her very much. It was almost a look of recognition. + +"Why, Mr. Pendleton, haven't I met you before?" Mrs. Carew cried. + +Jimmy's frank eyes met Mrs. Carew's gaze squarely, admiringly. + +"I think not," he smiled back at her. "I'm sure I never have met you. +I should have remembered it--if _I_ had met YOU," he bowed. + +So unmistakable was his significant emphasis that everybody laughed, +and John Pendleton chuckled: + +"Well done, son--for a youth of your tender years. I couldn't have +done half so well myself." + +Mrs. Carew flushed slightly and joined in the laugh. + +"No, but really," she urged; "joking aside, there certainly is a +strangely familiar something in your face. I think I must have SEEN +you somewhere, if I haven't actually met you." + +"And maybe you have," cried Pollyanna, "in Boston. Jimmy goes to Tech +there winters, you know. Jimmy's going to build bridges and dams, you +see--when he grows up, I mean," she finished with a merry glance at +the big six-foot fellow still standing before Mrs. Carew. + +Everybody laughed again--that is, everybody but Jamie; and only Sadie +Dean noticed that Jamie, instead of laughing, closed his eyes as if at +the sight of something that hurt. And only Sadie Dean knew how--and +why--the subject was so quickly changed, for it was Sadie herself who +changed it. It was Sadie, too, who, when the opportunity came, saw to +it that books and flowers and beasts and birds--things that Jamie knew +and understood--were talked about as well as dams and bridges which +(as Sadie knew), Jamie could never build. That Sadie did all this, +however, was not realized by anybody, least of all by Jamie, the one +who most of all was concerned. + +When the call was over and the Pendletons had gone, Mrs. Carew +referred again to the curiously haunting feeling that somewhere she +had seen young Pendleton before. + +"I have, I know I have--somewhere," she declared musingly. "Of course +it may have been in Boston; but--" She let the sentence remain +unfinished; then, after a minute she added: "He's a fine young fellow, +anyway. I like him." + +"I'm so glad! I do, too," nodded Pollyanna. "I've always liked Jimmy." + +"You've known him some time, then?" queried Jamie, a little wistfully. + +"Oh, yes. I knew him years ago when I was a little girl, you know. He +was Jimmy Bean then." + +"Jimmy BEAN! Why, isn't he Mr. Pendleton's son?" asked Mrs. Carew, in +surprise. + +"No, only by adoption." + +"Adoption!" exclaimed Jamie. "Then HE isn't a real son any more than I +am." There was a curious note of almost joy in the lad's voice. + +"No. Mr. Pendleton hasn't any children. He never married. He--he was +going to, once, but he--he didn't." Pollyanna blushed and spoke with +sudden diffidence. Pollyanna had never forgotten that it was her +mother who, in the long ago, had said no to this same John Pendleton, +and who had thus been responsible for the man's long, lonely years of +bachelorhood. + +Mrs. Carew and Jamie, however, being unaware of this, and seeing now +only the blush on Pollyanna's cheek and the diffidence in her manner, +drew suddenly the same conclusion. + +"Is it possible," they asked themselves, "that this man, John +Pendleton, ever had a love affair with Pollyanna, child that she is?" + +Naturally they did not say this aloud; so, naturally, there was no +answer possible. Naturally, too, perhaps, the thought, though +unspoken, was still not forgotten, but was tucked away in a corner of +their minds for future reference--if need arose. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +SUMMER DAYS + + +Before the Carews came, Pollyanna had told Jimmy that she was +depending on him to help her entertain them. Jimmy had not expressed +himself then as being overwhelmingly desirous to serve her in this +way; but before the Carews had been in town a fortnight, he had shown +himself as not only willing but anxious,--judging by the frequency and +length of his calls, and the lavishness of his offers of the Pendleton +horses and motor cars. + +Between him and Mrs. Carew there sprang up at once a warm friendship +based on what seemed to be a peculiarly strong attraction for each +other. They walked and talked together, and even made sundry plans for +the Home for Working Girls, to be carried out the following winter +when Jimmy should be in Boston. Jamie, too, came in for a good measure +of attention, nor was Sadie Dean forgotten. Sadie, as Mrs. Carew +plainly showed, was to be regarded as if she were quite one of the +family; and Mrs. Carew was careful to see that she had full share in +any plans for merrymaking. + +Nor did Jimmy always come alone with his offers for entertainment. +More and more frequently John Pendleton appeared with him. Rides and +drives and picnics were planned and carried out, and long delightful +afternoons were spent over books and fancy-work on the Harrington +veranda. + +Pollyanna was delighted. Not only were her paying guests being kept +from any possibilities of ennui and homesickness, but her good +friends, the Carews, were becoming delightfully acquainted with her +other good friends, the Pendletons. So, like a mother hen with a brood +of chickens, she hovered over the veranda meetings, and did everything +in her power to keep the group together and happy. + +Neither the Carews nor the Pendletons, however, were at all satisfied +to have Pollyanna merely an onlooker in their pastimes, and very +strenuously they urged her to join them. They would not take no for an +answer, indeed, and Pollyanna very frequently found the way opened for +her. + +"Just as if we were going to have you poked up in this hot kitchen +frosting cake!" Jamie scolded one day, after he had penetrated the +fastnesses of her domain. "It is a perfectly glorious morning, and +we're all going over to the Gorge and take our luncheon. And YOU are +going with us." + +"But, Jamie, I can't--indeed I can't," refused Pollyanna. + +"Why not? You won't have dinner to get for us, for we sha'n't be here +to eat it." + +"But there's the--the luncheon." + +"Wrong again. We'll have the luncheon with us, so you CAN'T stay home +to get that. Now what's to hinder your going along WITH the luncheon, +eh?" + +"Why, Jamie, I--I can't. There's the cake to frost--" + +"Don't want it frosted." + +"And the dusting--" + +"Don't want it dusted." + +"And the ordering to do for to-morrow." + +"Give us crackers and milk. We'd lots rather have you and crackers and +milk than a turkey dinner and not you." + +"But I can't begin to tell you the things I've got to do to-day." + +"Don't want you to begin to tell me," retorted Jamie, cheerfully. "I +want you to stop telling me. Come, put on your bonnet. I saw Betty in +the dining room, and she says she'll put our luncheon up. Now hurry." + +"Why, Jamie, you ridiculous boy, I can't go," laughed Pollyanna, +holding feebly back, as he tugged at her dress-sleeve. "I can't go to +that picnic with you!" + +But she went. She went not only then, but again and again. She could +not help going, indeed, for she found arrayed against her not only +Jamie, but Jimmy and Mr. Pendleton, to say nothing of Mrs. Carew and +Sadie Dean, and even Aunt Polly herself. + +"And of course I AM glad to go," she would sigh happily, when some +dreary bit of work was taken out of her hands in spite of all +protesting. "But, surely, never before were there any boarders like +mine--teasing for crackers-and-milk and cold things; and never before +was there a boarding mistress like me--running around the country +after this fashion!" + +The climax came when one day John Pendleton (and Aunt Polly never +ceased to exclaim because it WAS John Pendleton)--suggested that they +all go on a two weeks' camping trip to a little lake up among the +mountains forty miles from Beldingsville. + +The idea was received with enthusiastic approbation by everybody +except Aunt Polly. Aunt Polly said, privately, to Pollyanna, that it +was all very good and well and desirable that John Pendleton should +have gotten out of the sour, morose aloofness that had been his state +for so many years, but that it did not necessarily follow that it was +equally desirable that he should be trying to turn himself into a +twenty-year-old boy again; and that was what, in her opinion, he +seemed to be doing now! Publicly she contented herself with saying +coldly that SHE certainly should not go on any insane camping trip to +sleep on damp ground and eat bugs and spiders, under the guise of +"fun," nor did she think it a sensible thing for anybody over forty to +do. + +If John Pendleton felt any wound from this shaft, he made no sign. +Certainly there was no diminution of apparent interest and enthusiasm +on his part, and the plans for the camping expedition came on apace, +for it was unanimously decided that, even if Aunt Polly would not go, +that was no reason why the rest should not. + +"And Mrs. Carew will be all the chaperon we need, anyhow," Jimmy had +declared airily. + +For a week, therefore, little was talked of but tents, food supplies, +cameras, and fishing tackle, and little was done that was not a +preparation in some way for the trip. + +"And let's make it the real thing," proposed Jimmy, eagerly, "--yes, +even to Mrs. Chilton's bugs and spiders," he added, with a merry smile +straight into that lady's severely disapproving eyes. "None of your +log-cabin-central-dining-room idea for us! We want real camp-fires +with potatoes baked in the ashes, and we want to sit around and tell +stories and roast corn on a stick." + +"And we want to swim and row and fish," chimed in Pollyanna. "And--" +She stopped suddenly, her eyes on Jamie's face. "That is, of course," +she corrected quickly, "we wouldn't want to--to do those things all +the time. There'd be a lot of QUIET things we'd want to do, too--read +and talk, you know." + +Jamie's eyes darkened. His face grew a little white. His lips parted, +but before any words came, Sadie Dean was speaking. + +"Oh, but on camping trips and picnics, you know, we EXPECT to do +outdoor stunts," she interposed feverishly; "and I'm sure we WANT to. +Last summer we were down in Maine, and you should have seen the fish +Mr. Carew caught. It was--You tell it," she begged, turning to Jamie. + +Jamie laughed and shook his head. + +"They'd never believe it," he objected; "--a fish story like that!" + +"Try us," challenged Pollyanna. + +Jamie still shook his head--but the color had come back to his face, +and his eyes were no longer somber as if with pain. Pollyanna, +glancing at Sadie Dean, vaguely wondered why she suddenly settled back +in her seat with so very evident an air of relief. + +At last the appointed day came, and the start was made in John +Pendleton's big new touring car with Jimmy at the wheel. A whir, a +throbbing rumble, a chorus of good-bys, and they were off, with one +long shriek of the siren under Jimmy's mischievous fingers. + +In after days Pollyanna often went back in her thoughts to that first +night in camp. The experience was so new and so wonderful in so many +ways. + +It was four o'clock when their forty-mile automobile journey came to +an end. Since half-past three their big car had been ponderously +picking its way over an old logging-road not designed for six-cylinder +automobiles. For the car itself, and for the hand at the wheel, this +part of the trip was a most wearing one; but for the merry passengers, +who had no responsibility concerning hidden holes and muddy curves, it +was nothing but a delight growing more poignant with every new vista +through the green arches, and with every echoing laugh that dodged the +low-hanging branches. + +The site for the camp was one known to John Pendleton years before, +and he greeted it now with a satisfied delight that was not unmingled +with relief. + +"Oh, how perfectly lovely!" chorused the others. + +"Glad you like it! I thought it would be about right," nodded John +Pendleton. "Still, I was a little anxious, after all, for these places +do change, you know, most remarkably sometimes. And of course this has +grown up to bushes a little--but not so but what we can easily clear +it." + +Everybody fell to work then, clearing the ground, putting up the two +little tents, unloading the automobile, building the camp fire, and +arranging the "kitchen and pantry." + +It was then that Pollyanna began especially to notice Jamie, and to +fear for him. She realized suddenly that the hummocks and hollows and +pine-littered knolls were not like a carpeted floor for a pair of +crutches, and she saw that Jamie was realizing it, too. She saw, also, +that in spite of his infirmity, he was trying to take his share in the +work; and the sight troubled her. Twice she hurried forward and +intercepted him, taking from his arms the box he was trying to carry. + +"Here, let me take that," she begged. "You've done enough." And the +second time she added: "Do go and sit down somewhere to rest, Jamie. +You look so tired!" + +If she had been watching closely she would have seen the quick color +sweep to his forehead. But she was not watching, so she did not see +it. She did see, however, to her intense surprise, Sadie Dean hurry +forward a moment later, her arms full of boxes, and heard her cry: + +"Oh, Mr. Carew, please, if you WOULD give me a lift with these!" + +The next moment, Jamie, once more struggling with the problem of +managing a bundle of boxes and two crutches, was hastening toward the +tents. + +With a quick word of protest on her tongue, Pollyanna turned to Sadie +Dean. But the protest died unspoken, for Sadie, her finger to her +lips, was hurrying straight toward her. + +"I know you didn't think," she stammered in a low voice, as she +reached Pollyanna's side. "But, don't you see?--it HURTS him--to have +you think he can't do things like other folks. There, look! See how +happy he is now." + +Pollyanna looked, and she saw. She saw Jamie, his whole self alert, +deftly balance his weight on one crutch and swing his burden to the +ground. She saw the happy light on his face, and she heard him say +nonchalantly: + +"Here's another contribution from Miss Dean. She asked me to bring +this over." + +"Why, yes, I see," breathed Pollyanna, turning to Sadie Dean. But +Sadie Dean had gone. + +Pollyanna watched Jamie a good deal after that, though she was careful +not to let him, or any one else, see that she was watching him. And as +she watched, her heart ached. Twice she saw him essay a task and fail: +once with a box too heavy for him to lift; once with a folding-table +too unwieldy for him to carry with his crutches. And each time she saw +his quick glance about him to see if others noticed. She saw, too, +that unmistakably he was getting very tired, and that his face, in +spite of its gay smile, was looking white and drawn, as if he were in +pain. + +"I should think we might have known more," stormed Pollyanna hotly to +herself, her eyes blinded with tears. "I should think we might have +known more than to have let him come to a place like this. Camping, +indeed!--and with a pair of crutches! Why couldn't we have remembered +before we started?" + +An hour later, around the camp fire after supper, Pollyanna had her +answer to this question; for, with the glowing fire before her, and +the soft, fragrant dark all about her, she once more fell under the +spell of the witchery that fell from Jamie's lips; and she once more +forgot--Jamie's crutches. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +COMRADES + + +They were a merry party--the six of them--and a congenial one. There +seemed to be no end to the new delights that came with every new day, +not the least of which was the new charm of companionship that seemed +to be a part of this new life they were living. + +As Jamie said one night, when they were all sitting about the fire: + +"You see, we seem to know each other so much better up here in the +woods--better in a week than we would in a year in town." + +"I know it. I wonder why," murmured Mrs. Carew, her eyes dreamily +following the leaping blaze. + +"I think it's something in the air," sighed Pollyanna, happily. +"There's something about the sky and the woods and the lake +so--so--well, there just is; that's all." + +"I think you mean, because the world is shut out," cried Sadie Dean, +with a curious little break in her voice. (Sadie had not joined in the +laugh that followed Pollyanna's limping conclusion.) "Up here +everything is so real and true that we, too, can be our real true +selves--not what the world SAYS we are because we are rich, or poor, +or great, or humble; but what we really are, OURSELVES." + +"Ho!" scoffed Jimmy, airily. "All that sounds very fine; but the real +common-sense reason is because we don't have any Mrs. Tom and Dick and +Harry sitting on their side porches and commenting on every time we +stir, and wondering among themselves where we are going, why we are +going there, and how long we're intending to stay!" + +"Oh, Jimmy, how you do take the poetry out of things," reproached +Pollyanna, laughingly. + +"But that's my business," flashed Jimmy. "How do you suppose I'm going +to build dams and bridges if I don't see something besides poetry in +the waterfall?" + +"You can't, Pendleton! And it's the bridge--that counts--every time," +declared Jamie in a voice that brought a sudden hush to the group +about the fire. It was for only a moment, however, for almost at once +Sadie Dean broke the silence with a gay: + +"Pooh! I'd rather have the waterfall every time, without ANY bridge +around--to spoil the view!" + +Everybody laughed--and it was as if a tension somewhere snapped. Then +Mrs. Carew rose to her feet. + +"Come, come, children, your stern chaperon says it's bedtime!" And +with a merry chorus of good-nights the party broke up. + +And so the days passed. To Pollyanna they were wonderful days, and +still the most wonderful part was the charm of close companionship--a +companionship that, while differing as to details with each one, was +yet delightful with all. + +With Sadie Dean she talked of the new Home, and of what a marvelous +work Mrs. Carew was doing. They talked, too, of the old days when +Sadie was selling bows behind the counter, and of what Mrs. Carew had +done for her. Pollyanna heard, also, something of the old father and +mother "back home," and of the joy that Sadie, in her new position, +had been able to bring into their lives. + +"And after all it's really YOU that began it, you know," she said one +day to Pollyanna. But Pollyanna only shook her head at this with an +emphatic: + +"Nonsense! It was all Mrs. Carew." + +With Mrs. Carew herself Pollyanna talked also of the Home, and of her +plans for the girls. And once, in the hush of a twilight walk, Mrs. +Carew spoke of herself and of her changed outlook on life. And she, +like Sadie Dean, said brokenly: "After all, it's really you that began +it, Pollyanna." But Pollyanna, as in Sadie Dean's case, would have +none of this; and she began to talk of Jamie, and of what HE had done. + +"Jamie's a dear," Mrs. Carew answered affectionately. "And I love him +like an own son. He couldn't be dearer to me if he were really my +sister's boy." + +"Then you don't think he is?" + +"I don't know. We've never learned anything conclusive. Sometimes I'm +sure he is. Then again I doubt it. I think HE really believes he +is--bless his heart! At all events, one thing is sure: he has good +blood in him from somewhere. Jamie's no ordinary waif of the streets, +you know, with his talents; and the wonderful way he has responded to +teaching and training proves it." + +"Of course," nodded Pollyanna. "And as long as you love him so well, +it doesn't really matter, anyway, does it, whether he's the real Jamie +or not?" + +Mrs. Carew hesitated. Into her eyes crept the old somberness of +heartache. + +"Not so far as he is concerned," she sighed, at last. "It's only that +sometimes I get to thinking: if he isn't our Jamie, where is--Jamie +Kent? Is he well? Is he happy? Has he any one to love him? When I get +to thinking like that, Pollyanna, I'm nearly wild. I'd give--everything +I have in the world, it seems to me, to really KNOW that this boy is +Jamie Kent." + +Pollyanna used to think of this conversation sometimes, in her after +talks with Jamie. Jamie was so sure of himself. + +"It's just somehow that I FEEL it's so," he said once to Pollyanna. "I +believe I am Jamie Kent. I've believed it quite a while. I'm afraid +I've believed it so long now, that--that I just couldn't bear it, to +find out I wasn't he. Mrs. Carew has done so much for me; just think +if, after all, I were only a stranger!" + +"But she--loves you, Jamie." + +"I know she does--and that would only hurt all the more--don't you +see?--because it would be hurting her. SHE wants me to be the real +Jamie. I know she does. Now if I could only DO something for her--make +her proud of me in some way! If I could only do something to support +myself, even, like a man! But what can I do, with--these?" He spoke +bitterly, and laid his hand on the crutches at his side. + +Pollyanna was shocked and distressed. It was the first time she had +heard Jamie speak of his infirmity since the old boyhood days. +Frantically she cast about in her mind for just the right thing to +say; but before she had even thought of anything, Jamie's face had +undergone a complete change. + +"But, there, forget it! I didn't mean to say it," he cried gaily. "And +'twas rank heresy to the game, wasn't it? I'm sure I'm GLAD I've got +the crutches. They're a whole lot nicer than the wheel chair!" + +"And the Jolly Book--do you keep it now?" asked Pollyanna, in a voice +that trembled a little. + +"Sure! I've got a whole library of jolly books now," he retorted. +"They're all in leather, dark red, except the first one. That is the +same little old notebook that Jerry gave me." + +"Jerry! And I've been meaning all the time to ask for him," cried +Pollyanna. "Where is he?" + +"In Boston; and his vocabulary is just as picturesque as ever, only he +has to tone it down at times. Jerry's still in the newspaper +business--but he's GETTING the news, not selling it. Reporting, you +know. I HAVE been able to help him and mumsey. And don't you suppose I +was glad? Mumsey's in a sanatorium for her rheumatism." + +"And is she better?" + +"Very much. She's coming out pretty soon, and going to housekeeping +with Jerry. Jerry's been making up some of his lost schooling during +these past few years. He's let me help him--but only as a loan. He's +been very particular to stipulate that." + +"Of course," nodded Pollyanna, in approval. "He'd want it that way, +I'm sure. I should. It isn't nice to be under obligations that you +can't pay. I know how it is. That's why I so wish I could help Aunt +Polly out--after all she's done for me!" + +"But you are helping her this summer." + +Pollyanna lifted her eyebrows. + +"Yes, I'm keeping summer boarders. I look it, don't I?" she +challenged, with a flourish of her hands toward her surroundings. +"Surely, never was a boarding-house mistress's task quite like mine! +And you should have heard Aunt Polly's dire predictions of what summer +boarders would be," she chuckled irrepressibly. + +"What was that?" + +Pollyanna shook her head decidedly. + +"Couldn't possibly tell you. That's a dead secret. But--" She stopped +and sighed, her face growing wistful again. "This isn't going to last, +you know. It can't. Summer boarders don't. I've got to do something +winters. I've been thinking. I believe--I'll write stories." + +Jamie turned with a start. + +"You'll--what?" he demanded. + +"Write stories--to sell, you know. You needn't look so surprised! Lots +of folks do that. I knew two girls in Germany who did." + +"Did you ever try it?" Jamie still spoke a little queerly. + +"N-no; not yet," admitted Pollyanna. Then, defensively, in answer to +the expression on his face, she bridled: "I TOLD you I was keeping +summer boarders now. I can't do both at once." + +"Of course not!" + +She threw him a reproachful glance. + +"You don't think I can ever do it?" + +"I didn't say so." + +"No; but you look it. I don't see why I can't. It isn't like singing. +You don't have to have a voice for it. And it isn't like an instrument +that you have to learn how to play." + +"I think it is--a little--like that." Jamie's voice was low. His eyes +were turned away. + +"How? What do you mean? Why, Jamie, just a pencil and paper, so--that +isn't like learning to play the piano or violin!" + +There was a moment's silence. Then came the answer, still in that low, +diffident voice; still with the eyes turned away. + +"The instrument that you play on, Pollyanna, will be the great heart +of the world; and to me that seems the most wonderful instrument of +all--to learn. Under your touch, if you are skilful, it will respond +with smiles or tears, as you will." + +[Illustration: "'The instrument that you play on, Pollyanna, will be +the great heart of the world'"] + +Pollyanna drew a tremulous sigh. Her eyes grew wet. + +"Oh, Jamie, how beautifully you do put things--always! I never thought +of it that way. But it's so, isn't it? How I would love to do it! +Maybe I couldn't do--all that. But I've read stories in the magazines, +lots of them. Seems as if I could write some like those, anyway. I +LOVE to tell stories. I'm always repeating those you tell, and I +always laugh and cry, too, just as I do when YOU tell them." + +Jamie turned quickly. + +"DO they make you laugh and cry, Pollyanna--really?" There was a +curious eagerness in his voice. + +"Of course they do, and you know it, Jamie. And they used to long ago, +too, in the Public Garden. Nobody can tell stories like you, Jamie. +YOU ought to be the one writing stories; not I. And, say, Jamie, why +don't you? You could do it lovely, I know!" + +There was no answer. Jamie, apparently, did not hear; perhaps because +he called, at that instant, to a chipmunk that was scurrying through +the bushes near by. + +It was not always with Jamie, nor yet with Mrs. Carew and Sadie Dean +that Pollyanna had delightful walks and talks, however; very often it +was with Jimmy, or John Pendleton. + +Pollyanna was sure now that she had never before known John Pendleton. +The old taciturn moroseness seemed entirely gone since they came to +camp. He rowed and swam and fished and tramped with fully as much +enthusiasm as did Jimmy himself, and with almost as much vigor. Around +the camp fire at night he quite rivaled Jamie with his story-telling +of adventures, both laughable and thrilling, that had befallen him in +his foreign travels. + +"In the 'Desert of Sarah,' Nancy used to call it," laughed Pollyanna +one night, as she joined the rest in begging for a story. + +Better than all this, however, in Pollyanna's opinion, were the times +when John Pendleton, with her alone, talked of her mother as he used +to know her and love her, in the days long gone. That he did so talk +with her was a joy to Pollyanna, but a great surprise, too; for, never +in the past, had John Pendleton talked so freely of the girl whom he +had so loved--hopelessly. Perhaps John Pendleton himself felt some of +the surprise, for once he said to Pollyanna, musingly: + +"I wonder why I'm talking to you like this." + +"Oh, but I love to have you," breathed Pollyanna. + +"Yes, I know--but I wouldn't think I would do it. It must be, though, +that it's because you are so like her, as I knew her. You are very +like your mother, my dear." + +"Why, I thought my mother was BEAUTIFUL!" cried Pollyanna, in +unconcealed amazement. + +John Pendleton smiled quizzically. + +"She was, my dear." + +Pollyanna looked still more amazed. + +"Then I don't see how I CAN be like her!" + +The man laughed outright. + +"Pollyanna, if some girls had said that, I--well, never mind what I'd +say. You little witch!--you poor, homely little Pollyanna!" + +Pollyanna flashed a genuinely distressed reproof straight into the +man's merry eyes. + +"Please, Mr. Pendleton, don't look like that, and don't tease +me--about THAT. I'd so LOVE to be beautiful--though of course it +sounds silly to say it. And I HAVE a mirror, you know." + +"Then I advise you to look in it--when you're talking sometime," +observed the man sententiously. + +Pollyanna's eyes flew wide open. + +"Why, that's just what Jimmy said," she cried. + +"Did he, indeed--the young rascal!" retorted John Pendleton, dryly. +Then, with one of the curiously abrupt changes of manner peculiar to +him, he said, very low: "You have your mother's eyes and smile, +Pollyanna; and to me you are--beautiful." + +And Pollyanna, her eyes blinded with sudden hot tears, was silenced. + +Dear as were these talks, however, they still were not quite like the +talks with Jimmy, to Pollyanna. For that matter, she and Jimmy did not +need to TALK to be happy. Jimmy was always so comfortable, and +comforting; whether they talked or not did not matter. Jimmy always +understood. There was no pulling on her heart-strings for sympathy, +with Jimmy--Jimmy was delightfully big, and strong, and happy. Jimmy +was not sorrowing for a long-lost nephew, nor pining for the loss of a +boyhood sweetheart. Jimmy did not have to swing himself painfully +about on a pair of crutches--all of which was so hard to see, and +know, and think of. With Jimmy one could be just glad, and happy, and +free. Jimmy was such a dear! He always rested one so--did Jimmy! + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +"TIED TO TWO STICKS" + + +It was on the last day at camp that it happened. To Pollyanna it +seemed such a pity that it should have happened at all, for it was the +first cloud to bring a shadow of regret and unhappiness to her heart +during the whole trip, and she found herself futilely sighing: + +"I wish we'd gone home day before yesterday; then it wouldn't have +happened." + +But they had not gone home "day before yesterday," and it had +happened; and this was the manner of it. + +Early in the morning of that last day they had all started on a +two-mile tramp to "the Basin." + +"We'll have one more bang-up fish dinner before we go," Jimmy had +said. And the rest had joyfully agreed. + +With luncheon and fishing tackle, therefore, they had made an early +start. Laughing and calling gaily to each other they followed the +narrow path through the woods, led by Jimmy, who best knew the way. + +At first, close behind Jimmy had walked Pollyanna; but gradually she +had fallen back with Jamie, who was last in the line: Pollyanna had +thought she detected on Jamie's face the expression which she had come +to know was there only when he was attempting something that taxed +almost to the breaking-point his skill and powers of endurance. She +knew that nothing would so offend him as to have her openly notice +this state of affairs. At the same time, she also knew that from her, +more willingly than from any one else, would he accept an occasional +steadying hand over a troublesome log or stone. Therefore, at the +first opportunity to make the change without apparent design, she had +dropped back step by step until she had reached her goal, Jamie. She +had been rewarded instantly in the way Jamie's face brightened, and in +the easy assurance with which he met and conquered a fallen tree-trunk +across their path, under the pleasant fiction (carefully fostered by +Pollyanna) of "helping her across." + +Once out of the woods, their way led along an old stone wall for a +time, with wide reaches of sunny, sloping pastures on each side, and a +more distant picturesque farmhouse. It was in the adjoining pasture +that Pollyanna saw the goldenrod which she immediately coveted. + +"Jamie, wait! I'm going to get it," she exclaimed eagerly. "It'll make +such a beautiful bouquet for our picnic table!" And nimbly she +scrambled over the high stone wall and dropped herself down on the +other side. + +It was strange how tantalizing was that goldenrod. Always just ahead +she saw another bunch, and yet another, each a little finer than the +one within her reach. With joyous exclamations and gay little calls +back to the waiting Jamie, Pollyanna--looking particularly attractive +in her scarlet sweater--skipped from bunch to bunch, adding to her +store. She had both hands full when there came the hideous bellow of +an angry bull, the agonized shout from Jamie, and the sound of hoofs +thundering down the hillside. + +What happened next was never clear to her. She knew she dropped her +goldenrod and ran--ran as she never ran before, ran as she thought she +never could run--back toward the wall and Jamie. She knew that behind +her the hoof-beats were gaining, gaining, always gaining. Dimly, +hopelessly, far ahead of her, she saw Jamie's agonized face, and heard his +hoarse cries. Then, from somewhere, came a new voice--Jimmy's--shouting +a cheery call of courage. + +Still on and on she ran blindly, hearing nearer and nearer the thud of +those pounding hoofs. Once she stumbled and almost fell. Then, dizzily +she righted herself and plunged forward. She felt her strength quite +gone when suddenly, close to her, she heard Jimmy's cheery call again. +The next minute she felt herself snatched off her feet and held close +to a great throbbing something that dimly she realized was Jimmy's +heart. It was all a horrid blur then of cries, hot, panting breaths, +and pounding hoofs thundering nearer, ever nearer. Then, just as she +knew those hoofs to be almost upon her, she felt herself flung, still +in Jimmy's arms, sharply to one side, and yet not so far but that she +still could feel the hot breath of the maddened animal as he dashed +by. Almost at once then she found herself on the other side of the +wall, with Jimmy bending over her, imploring her to tell him she was +not dead. + +With an hysterical laugh that was yet half a sob, she struggled out of +his arms and stood upon her feet. + +"Dead? No, indeed--thanks to you, Jimmy. I'm all right. I'm all right. +Oh, how glad, glad, glad I was to hear your voice! Oh, that was +splendid! How did you do it?" she panted. + +"Pooh! That was nothing. I just--" An inarticulate choking cry brought +his words to a sudden halt. He turned to find Jamie face down on the +ground, a little distance away. Pollyanna was already hurrying toward +him. + +"Jamie, Jamie, what is the matter?" she cried. "Did you fall? Are you +hurt?" + +There was no answer. + +"What is it, old fellow? ARE you hurt?" demanded Jimmy. + +Still there was no answer. Then, suddenly, Jamie pulled himself half +upright and turned. They saw his face then, and fell back, shocked and +amazed. + +"Hurt? Am I hurt?" he choked huskily, flinging out both his hands. +"Don't you suppose it hurts to see a thing like that and not be able +to do anything? To be tied, helpless, to a pair of sticks? I tell you +there's no hurt in all the world to equal it!" + +"But--but--Jamie," faltered Pollyanna. + +"Don't!" interrupted the cripple, almost harshly. He had struggled to +his feet now. "Don't say--anything. I didn't mean to make a +scene--like this," he finished brokenly, as he turned and swung back +along the narrow path that led to the camp. + +For a minute, as if transfixed, the two behind him watched him go. + +"Well, by--Jove!" breathed Jimmy, then, in a voice that shook a +little, "That was--tough on him!" + +"And I didn't think, and PRAISED you, right before him," half-sobbed +Pollyanna. "And his hands--did you see them? They were--BLEEDING where +the nails had cut right into the flesh," she finished, as she turned +and stumbled blindly up the path. + +"But, Pollyanna, w-where are you going?" cried Jimmy. + +"I'm going to Jamie, of course! Do you think I'd leave him like that? +Come, we must get him to come back." + +And Jimmy, with a sigh that was not all for Jamie, went. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +JIMMY WAKES UP + + +Outwardly the camping trip was pronounced a great success; but +inwardly-- + +Pollyanna wondered sometimes if it were all herself, or if there +really were a peculiar, indefinable constraint in everybody with +everybody else. Certainly she felt it, and she thought she saw +evidences that the others felt it, too. As for the cause of it +all--unhesitatingly she attributed it to that last day at camp with +its unfortunate trip to the Basin. + +To be sure, she and Jimmy had easily caught up with Jamie, and had, +after considerable coaxing, persuaded him to turn about and go on to +the Basin with them. But, in spite of everybody's very evident efforts +to act as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, nobody really +succeeded in doing so. Pollyanna, Jamie, and Jimmy overdid their +gayety a bit, perhaps; and the others, while not knowing exactly what +had happened, very evidently felt that something was not quite right, +though they plainly tried to hide the fact that they did feel so. +Naturally, in this state of affairs, restful happiness was out of the +question. Even the anticipated fish dinner was flavorless; and early +in the afternoon the start was made back to the camp. + +Once home again, Pollyanna had hoped that the unhappy episode of the +angry bull would be forgotten. But she could not forget it, so in all +fairness she could not blame the others if they could not. Always she +thought of it now when she looked at Jamie. She saw again the agony on +his face, the crimson stain on the palms of his hands. Her heart ached +for him, and because it did so ache, his mere presence had come to be +a pain to her. Remorsefully she confessed to herself that she did not +like to be with Jamie now, nor to talk with him--but that did not mean +that she was not often with him. She was with him, indeed, much +oftener than before, for so remorseful was she, and so fearful was she +that he would detect her unhappy frame of mind, that she lost no +opportunity of responding to his overtures of comradeship; and +sometimes she deliberately sought him out. This last she did not often +have to do, however, for more and more frequently these days Jamie +seemed to be turning to her for companionship. + +The reason for this, Pollyanna believed, was to be found in this same +incident of the bull and the rescue. Not that Jamie ever referred to +it directly. He never did that. He was, too, even gayer than usual; +but Pollyanna thought she detected sometimes a bitterness underneath +it all that was never there before. Certainly she could not help +seeing that at times he seemed almost to want to avoid the others, and +that he actually sighed, as if with relief, when he found himself +alone with her. She thought she knew why this was so, after he said to +her, as he did say one day, while they were watching the others play +tennis: + +"You see, after all, Pollyanna, there isn't any one who can quite +understand as you can." + +"'Understand'?" Pollyanna had not known what he meant at first. They +had been watching the players for five minutes without a word between +them. + +"Yes; for you, once--couldn't walk--yourself." + +"Oh-h, yes, I know," faltered Pollyanna; and she knew that her great +distress must have shown in her face, for so quickly and so blithely +did he change the subject, after a laughing: + +"Come, come, Pollyanna, why don't you tell me to play the game? I +would if I were in your place. Forget it, please. I was a brute to +make you look like that!" + +And Pollyanna smiled, and said: "No, no--no, indeed!" But she did not +"forget it." She could not. And it all made her only the more anxious +to be with Jamie and help him all she could. + +"As if NOW I'd ever let him see that I was ever anything but glad when +he was with me!" she thought fervently, as she hurried forward a +minute later to take her turn in the game. + +Pollyanna, however, was not the only one in the party who felt a new +awkwardness and constraint. Jimmy Pendleton felt it, though he, too, +tried not to show it. + +Jimmy was not happy these days. From a care-free youth whose visions +were of wonderful spans across hitherto unbridgeable chasms, he has +come to be an anxious-eyed young man whose visions were of a feared +rival bearing away the girl he loved. + +Jimmy knew very well now that he was in love with Pollyanna. He +suspected that he had been in love with her for some time. He stood +aghast, indeed, to find himself so shaken and powerless before this +thing that had come to him. He knew that even his beloved bridges were +as nothing when weighed against the smile in a girl's eyes and the +word on a girl's lips. He realized that the most wonderful span in the +world to him would be the thing that could help him to cross the chasm +of fear and doubt that he felt lay between him and Pollyanna--doubt +because of Pollyanna; fear because of Jamie. + +Not until he had seen Pollyanna in jeopardy that day in the pasture +had he realized how empty would be the world--his world--without her. +Not until his wild dash for safety with Pollyanna in his arms had he +realized how precious she was to him. For a moment, indeed, with his +arms about her, and hers clinging about his neck, he had felt that she +was indeed his; and even in that supreme moment of danger he knew the +thrill of supreme bliss. Then, a little later, he had seen Jamie's +face, and Jamie's hands. To him they could mean but one thing: Jamie, +too, loved Pollyanna, and Jamie had to stand by, helpless--"tied to +two sticks." That was what he had said. Jimmy believed that, had he +himself been obliged to stand by helpless, "tied to two sticks," while +another rescued the girl that he loved, he would have looked like +that. + +Jimmy had gone back to camp that day with his thoughts in a turmoil of +fear and rebellion. He wondered if Pollyanna cared for Jamie; that was +where the fear came in. But even if she did care, a little, must he +stand aside, weakly, and let Jamie, without a struggle, make her learn +to care more? That was where the rebellion came in. Indeed, no, he +would not do it, decided Jimmy. It should be a fair fight between +them. + +Then, all by himself as he was, Jimmy flushed hot to the roots of his +hair. Would it be a "fair" fight? Could any fight between him and +Jamie be a "fair" fight? Jimmy felt suddenly as he had felt years +before when, as a lad, he had challenged a new boy to a fight for an +apple they both claimed, then, at the first blow, had discovered that +the new boy had a crippled arm. He had purposely lost then, of course, +and had let the crippled boy win. But he told himself fiercely now +that this case was different. It was no apple that was at stake. It +was his life's happiness. It might even be Pollyanna's life's +happiness, too. Perhaps she did not care for Jamie at all, but would +care for her old friend, Jimmy, if he but once showed her he wanted +her to care. And he would show her. He would-- + +Once again Jimmy blushed hotly. But he frowned, too, angrily: if only +he COULD forget how Jamie had looked when he had uttered that moaning +"tied to two sticks!" If only--But what was the use? It was NOT a fair +fight, and he knew it. He knew, too, right there and then, that his +decision would be just what it afterwards proved to be: he would watch +and wait. He would give Jamie his chance; and if Pollyanna showed that +she cared, he would take himself off and away quite out of their +lives; and they should never know, either of them, how bitterly he was +suffering. He would go back to his bridges--as if any bridge, though +it led to the moon itself, could compare for a moment with Pollyanna! +But he would do it. He must do it. + +It was all very fine and heroic, and Jimmy felt so exalted he was +atingle with something that was almost happiness when he finally +dropped off to sleep that night. But martyrdom in theory and practice +differs woefully, as would-be martyrs have found out from time +immemorial. It was all very well to decide alone and in the dark that +he would give Jamie his chance; but it was quite another matter really +to do it when it involved nothing less than the leaving of Pollyanna +and Jamie together almost every time he saw them. Then, too, he was +very much worried at Pollyanna's apparent attitude toward the lame +youth. It looked very much to Jimmy as if she did indeed care for him, +so watchful was she of his comfort, so apparently eager to be with +him. Then, as if to settle any possible doubt in Jimmy's mind, there +came the day when Sadie Dean had something to say on the subject. + +They were all out in the tennis court. Sadie was sitting alone when +Jimmy strolled up to her. + +"You next with Pollyanna, isn't it?" he queried. + +She shook her head. + +"Pollyanna isn't playing any more this morning." + +"Isn't playing!" frowned Jimmy, who had been counting on his own game +with Pollyanna. "Why not?" + +For a brief minute Sadie Dean did not answer; then with very evident +difficulty she said: + +"Pollyanna told me last night that she thought we were playing tennis +too much; that it wasn't kind to--Mr. Carew, as long as he can't +play." + +"I know; but--" Jimmy stopped helplessly, the frown plowing a deeper +furrow into his forehead. The next instant he fairly started with +surprise at the tense something in Sadie Dean's voice, as she said: + +"But he doesn't want her to stop. He doesn't want any one of us to +make any difference--for him. It's that that hurts him so. She doesn't +understand. She doesn't understand! But I do. She thinks she does, +though!" + +Something in words or manner sent a sudden pang to Jimmy's heart. He +threw a sharp look into her face. A question flew to his lips. For a +moment he held it back; then, trying to hide his earnestness with a +bantering smile, he let it come. + +"Why, Miss Dean, you don't mean to convey the idea that--that there's +any SPECIAL interest in each other--between those two, do you?" + +She gave him a scornful glance. + +"Where have your eyes been? She worships him! I mean--they worship +each other," she corrected hastily. + +Jimmy, with an inarticulate ejaculation, turned and walked away +abruptly. He could not trust himself to remain longer. He did not wish +to talk any more, just then, to Sadie Dean. So abruptly, indeed, did +he turn, that he did not notice that Sadie Dean, too, turned +hurriedly, and busied herself looking in the grass at her feet, as if +she had lost something. Very evidently, Sadie Dean, also, did not wish +to talk any more just then. + +Jimmy Pendleton told himself that it was not true at all; that it was +all falderal, what Sadie Dean had said. Yet nevertheless, true or not +true, he could not forget it. It colored all his thoughts thereafter, +and loomed before his eyes like a shadow whenever he saw Pollyanna and +Jamie together. He watched their faces covertly. He listened to the +tones of their voices. He came then, in time, to think it was, after +all, true: that they did worship each other; and his heart, in +consequence, grew like lead within him. True to his promise to +himself, however, he turned resolutely away. The die was cast, he told +himself. Pollyanna was not to be for him. + +Restless days for Jimmy followed. To stay away from the Harrington +homestead entirely he did not dare, lest his secret be suspected. To +be with Pollyanna at all now was torture. Even to be with Sadie Dean +was unpleasant, for he could not forget that it was Sadie Dean who had +finally opened his eyes. Jamie, certainly, was no haven of refuge, +under the circumstances; and that left only Mrs. Carew. Mrs. Carew, +however, was a host in herself, and Jimmy found his only comfort these +days in her society. Gay or grave, she always seemed to know how to +fit his mood exactly; and it was wonderful how much she knew about +bridges--the kind of bridges he was going to build. She was so wise, +too, and so sympathetic, knowing always just the right word to say. He +even one day almost told her about The Packet; but John Pendleton +interrupted them at just the wrong moment, so the story was not told. +John Pendleton was always interrupting them at just the wrong moment, +Jimmy thought vexedly, sometimes. Then, when he remembered what John +Pendleton had done for him, he was ashamed. + +"The Packet" was a thing that dated back to Jimmy's boyhood, and had +never been mentioned to any one save to John Pendleton, and that only +once, at the time of his adoption. The Packet was nothing but rather a +large white envelope, worn with time, and plump with mystery behind a +huge red seal. It had been given him by his father, and it bore the +following instructions in his father's hand: + +"To my boy, Jimmy. Not to be opened until his thirtieth birthday +except in case of his death, when it shall be opened at once." + +There were times when Jimmy speculated a good deal as to the contents +of that envelope. There were other times when he forgot its existence. +In the old days, at the Orphans' Home, his chief terror had been that +it should be discovered and taken away from him. In those days he wore +it always hidden in the lining of his coat. Of late years, at John +Pendleton's suggestion, it had been tucked away in the Pendleton safe. + +"For there's no knowing how valuable it may be," John Pendleton had +said, with a smile. "And, anyway, your father evidently wanted you to +have it, and we wouldn't want to run the risk of losing it." + +"No, I wouldn't want to lose it, of course," Jimmy had smiled back, a +little soberly. "But I'm not counting on its being real valuable, sir. +Poor dad didn't have anything that was very valuable about him, as I +remember." + +It was this Packet that Jimmy came so near mentioning to Mrs. Carew +one day,--if only John Pendleton had not interrupted them. + +"Still, maybe it's just as well I didn't tell her about it," Jimmy +reflected afterwards, on his way home. "She might have thought dad had +something in his life that wasn't quite--right. And I wouldn't have +wanted her to think that--of dad." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE GAME AND POLLYANNA + + +Before the middle of September the Carews and Sadie Dean said good-by +and went back to Boston. Much as she knew she would miss them, +Pollyanna drew an actual sigh of relief as the train bearing them away +rolled out of the Beldingsville station. Pollyanna would not have +admitted having this feeling of relief to any one else, and even to +herself she apologized in her thoughts. + +"It isn't that I don't love them dearly, every one of them," she +sighed, watching the train disappear around the curve far down the +track. "It's only that--that I'm so sorry for poor Jamie all the time; +and--and--I am tired. I shall be glad, for a while, just to go back to +the old quiet days with Jimmy." + +Pollyanna, however, did not go back to the old quiet days with Jimmy. +The days that immediately followed the going of the Carews were quiet, +certainly, but they were not passed "with Jimmy." Jimmy rarely came +near the house now, and when he did call, he was not the old Jimmy +that she used to know. He was moody, restless, and silent, or else +very gay and talkative in a nervous fashion that was most puzzling and +annoying. Before long, too, he himself went to Boston; and then of +course she did not see him at all. + +Pollyanna was surprised then to see how much she missed him. Even to +know that he was in town, and that there was a chance that he might +come over, was better than the dreary emptiness of certain absence; +and even his puzzling moods of alternating gloominess and gayety were +preferable to this utter silence of nothingness. Then, one day, +suddenly she pulled herself up with hot cheeks and shamed eyes. + +"Well, Pollyanna Whittier," she upbraided herself sharply, "one would +think you were in LOVE with Jimmy Bean Pendleton! Can't you think of +ANYTHING but him?" + +Whereupon, forthwith, she bestirred herself to be very gay and lively +indeed, and to put this Jimmy Bean Pendleton out of her thoughts. As +it happened, Aunt Polly, though unwittingly, helped her to this. + +With the going of the Carews had gone also their chief source of +immediate income, and Aunt Polly was beginning to worry again, +audibly, about the state of their finances. + +"I don't know, really, Pollyanna, what IS going to become of us," she +would moan frequently. "Of course we are a little ahead now from this +summer's work, and we have a small sum from the estate right along; +but I never know how soon that's going to stop, like all the rest. If +only we could do something to bring in some ready cash!" + +It was after one of these moaning lamentations one day that +Pollyanna's eyes chanced to fall on a prize-story contest offer. It +was a most alluring one. The prizes were large and numerous. The +conditions were set forth in glowing terms. To read it, one would +think that to win out were the easiest thing in the world. It +contained even a special appeal that might have been framed for +Pollyanna herself. + +"This is for you--you who read this," it ran. "What if you never have +written a story before! That is no sign you cannot write one. Try it. +That's all. Wouldn't YOU like three thousand dollars? Two thousand? +One thousand? Five hundred, or even one hundred? Then why not go after +it?" + +"The very thing!" cried Pollyanna, clapping her hands. "I'm so glad I +saw it! And it says I can do it, too. I thought I could, if I'd just +try. I'll go tell auntie, so she needn't worry any more." + +Pollyanna was on her feet and half way to the door when a second +thought brought her steps to a pause. + +"Come to think of it, I reckon I won't, after all. It'll be all the +nicer to surprise her; and if I SHOULD get the first one--!" + +Pollyanna went to sleep that night planning what she COULD do with +that three thousand dollars. + +Pollyanna began her story the next day. That is, she, with a very +important air, got out a quantity of paper, sharpened up half-a-dozen +pencils, and established herself at the big old-fashioned Harrington +desk in the living-room. After biting restlessly at the ends of two of +her pencils, she wrote down three words on the fair white page before +her. Then she drew a long sigh, threw aside the second ruined pencil, +and picked up a slender green one with a beautiful point. This point +she eyed with a meditative frown. + +"O dear! I wonder WHERE they get their titles," she despaired. "Maybe, +though, I ought to decide on the story first, and then make a title to +fit. Anyhow, I'M going to do it." And forthwith she drew a black line +through the three words and poised the pencil for a fresh start. + +The start was not made at once, however. Even when it was made, it +must have been a false one, for at the end of half an hour the whole +page was nothing but a jumble of scratched-out lines, with only a few +words here and there left to tell the tale. + +At this juncture Aunt Polly came into the room. She turned tired eyes +upon her niece. + +"Well, Pollyanna, what ARE you up to now?" she demanded. + +Pollyanna laughed and colored guiltily. + +"Nothing much, auntie. Anyhow, it doesn't look as if it were +much--yet," she admitted, with a rueful smile. "Besides, it's a +secret, and I'm not going to tell it yet." + +"Very well; suit yourself," sighed Aunt Polly. "But I can tell you +right now that if you're trying to make anything different out of +those mortgage papers Mr. Hart left, it's useless. I've been all over +them myself twice." + +"No, dear, it isn't the papers. It's a whole heap nicer than any +papers ever could be," crowed Pollyanna triumphantly, turning back to +her work. In Pollyanna's eyes suddenly had risen a glowing vision of +what it might be, with that three thousand dollars once hers. + +For still another half-hour Pollyanna wrote and scratched, and chewed +her pencils; then, with her courage dulled, but not destroyed, she +gathered up her papers and pencils and left the room. + +"I reckon maybe I'll do better by myself up-stairs," she was thinking +as she hurried through the hall. "I THOUGHT I ought to do it at a +desk--being literary work, so--but anyhow, the desk didn't help me any +this morning. I'll try the window seat in my room." + +The window seat, however, proved to be no more inspiring, judging by +the scratched and re-scratched pages that fell from Pollyanna's hands; +and at the end of another half-hour Pollyanna discovered suddenly that +it was time to get dinner. + +"Well, I'm glad 'tis, anyhow," she sighed to herself. "I'd a lot +rather get dinner than do this. Not but that I WANT to do this, of +course; only I'd no idea 'twas such an awful job--just a story, so!" + +During the following month Pollyanna worked faithfully, doggedly, but +she soon found that "just a story, so" was indeed no small matter to +accomplish. Pollyanna, however, was not one to set her hand to the +plow and look back. Besides, there was that three-thousand-dollar +prize, or even any of the others, if she should not happen to win the +first one! Of course even one hundred dollars was something! So day +after day she wrote and erased, and rewrote, until finally the story, +such as it was, lay completed before her. Then, with some misgivings, +it must be confessed, she took the manuscript to Milly Snow to be +typewritten. + +"It reads all right--that is, it makes sense," mused Pollyanna +doubtfully, as she hurried along toward the Snow cottage; "and it's a +real nice story about a perfectly lovely girl. But there's something +somewhere that isn't quite right about it, I'm afraid. Anyhow, I don't +believe I'd better count too much on the first prize; then I won't be +too much disappointed when I get one of the littler ones." + +Pollyanna always thought of Jimmy when she went to the Snows', for it +was at the side of the road near their cottage that she had first seen +him as a forlorn little runaway lad from the Orphans' Home years +before. She thought of him again to-day, with a little catch of her +breath. Then, with the proud lifting of her head that always came now +with the second thought of Jimmy, she hurried up the Snows' doorsteps +and rang the bell. + +As was usually the case, the Snows had nothing but the warmest of +welcomes for Pollyanna; and also as usual it was not long before they +were talking of the game: in no home in Beldingsville was the glad +game more ardently played than in the Snows'. + +"Well, and how are you getting along?" asked Pollyanna, when she had +finished the business part of her call. + +"Splendidly!" beamed Milly Snow. "This is the third job I've got this +week. "Oh, Miss Pollyanna, I'm so glad you had me take up typewriting, +for you see I CAN do that right at home! And it's all owing to you." + +"Nonsense!" disclaimed Pollyanna, merrily. + +"But it is. In the first place, I couldn't have done it anyway if it +hadn't been for the game--making mother so much better, you know, that +I had some time to myself. And then, at the very first, you suggested +typewriting, and helped me to buy a machine. I should like to know if +that doesn't come pretty near owing it all to you!" + +But once again Pollyanna objected. This time she was interrupted by +Mrs. Snow from her wheel chair by the window. And so earnestly and +gravely did Mrs. Snow speak, that Pollyanna, in spite of herself, +could but hear what she had to say. + +"Listen, child, I don't think you know quite what you've done. But I +wish you could! There's a little look in your eyes, my dear, to-day, +that I don't like to see there. You are plagued and worried over +something, I know. I can see it. And I don't wonder: your uncle's +death, your aunt's condition, everything--I won't say more about that. +But there's something I do want to say, my dear, and you must let me +say it, for I can't bear to see that shadow in your eyes without +trying to drive it away by telling you what you've done for me, for +this whole town, and for countless other people everywhere." + +"MRS. SNOW!" protested Pollyanna, in genuine distress. + +"Oh, I mean it, and I know what I'm talking about," nodded the +invalid, triumphantly. "To begin with, look at me. Didn't you find me +a fretful, whining creature who never by any chance wanted what she +had until she found what she didn't have? And didn't you open my eyes +by bringing me three kinds of things so I'd HAVE to have what I +wanted, for once?" + +"Oh, Mrs. Snow, was I really ever quite so--impertinent as that?" +murmured Pollyanna, with a painful blush. + +"It wasn't impertinent," objected Mrs. Snow, stoutly. "You didn't MEAN +it as impertinence--and that made all the difference in the world. You +didn't preach, either, my dear. If you had, you'd never have got me to +playing the game, nor anybody else, I fancy. But you did get me to +playing it--and see what it's done for me, and for Milly! Here I am so +much better that I can sit in a wheel chair and go anywhere on this +floor in it. That means a whole lot when it comes to waiting on +yourself, and giving those around you a chance to breathe--meaning +Milly, in this case. And the doctor says it's all owing to the game. +Then there's others, quantities of others, right in this town, that +I'm hearing of all the time. Nellie Mahoney broke her wrist and was so +glad it wasn't her leg that she didn't mind the wrist at all. Old Mrs. +Tibbits has lost her hearing, but she's so glad 'tisn't her eyesight +that she's actually happy. Do you remember cross-eyed Joe that they +used to call Cross Joe, be cause of his temper? Nothing went to suit +him either, any more than it did me. Well, somebody's taught him the +game, they say, and made a different man of him. And listen, dear. +It's not only this town, but other places. I had a letter yesterday +from my cousin in Massachusetts, and she told me all about Mrs. Tom +Payson that used to live here. Do you remember them? They lived on the +way up Pendleton Hill." + +"Yes, oh, yes, I remember them," cried Pollyanna. + +"Well, they left here that winter you were in the Sanatorium and went +to Massachusetts where my sister lives. She knows them well. She says +Mrs. Payson told her all about you, and how your glad game actually +saved them from a divorce. And now not only do they play it +themselves, but they've got quite a lot of others playing it down +there, and THEY'RE getting still others. So you see, dear, there's no +telling where that glad game of yours is going to stop. I wanted you +to know. I thought it might help--even you to play the game sometimes; +for don't think I don't understand, dearie, that it IS hard for you to +play your own game--sometimes." + +Pollyanna rose to her feet. She smiled, but her eyes glistened with +tears, as she held out her hand in good-by. + +"Thank you, Mrs. Snow," she said unsteadily. "It IS hard--sometimes; +and maybe I DID need a little help about my own game. But, anyhow, +now--" her eyes flashed with their old merriment--"if any time I think +I can't play the game myself I can remember that I can still always be +GLAD there are some folks playing it!" + +Pollyanna walked home a little soberly that afternoon. Touched as she +was by what Mrs. Snow had said, there was yet an undercurrent of +sadness in it all. She was thinking of Aunt Polly--Aunt Polly who +played the game now so seldom; and she was wondering if she herself +always played it, when she might. + +"Maybe I haven't been careful, always, to hunt up the glad side of the +things Aunt Polly says," she thought with undefined guiltiness; "and +maybe if I played the game better myself, Aunt Polly would play it--a +little. Anyhow I'm going to try. If I don't look out, all these other +people will be playing my own game better than I am myself!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +JOHN PENDLETON + + +It was just a week before Christmas that Pollyanna sent her story (now +neatly typewritten) in for the contest. The prize-winners would not be +announced until April, the magazine notice said, so Pollyanna settled +herself for the long wait with characteristic, philosophical patience. + +"I don't know, anyhow, but I'm glad 'tis so long," she told herself, +"for all winter I can have the fun of thinking it may be the first one +instead of one of the others, that I'll get. I might just as well +think I'm going to get it, then if I do get it, I won't have been +unhappy any. While if I don't get it--I won't have had all these weeks +of unhappiness beforehand, anyway; and I can be glad for one of the +smaller ones, then." That she might not get any prize was not in +Pollyanna's calculations at all. The story, so beautifully typed by +Milly Snow, looked almost as good as printed already--to Pollyanna. + +Christmas was not a happy time at the Harrington homestead that year, +in spite of Pollyanna's strenuous efforts to make it so. Aunt Polly +refused absolutely to allow any sort of celebration of the day, and +made her attitude so unmistakably plain that Pollyanna could not give +even the simplest of presents. + +Christmas evening John Pendleton called. Mrs. Chilton excused herself, +but Pollyanna, utterly worn out from a long day with her aunt, +welcomed him joyously. But even here she found a fly in the amber of +her content; for John Pendleton had brought with him a letter from +Jimmy, and the letter was full of nothing but the plans he and Mrs. +Carew were making for a wonderful Christmas celebration at the Home +for Working Girls: and Pollyanna, ashamed though she was to own it to +herself, was not in a mood to hear about Christmas celebrations just +then--least of all, Jimmy's. + +John Pendleton, however, was not ready to let the subject drop, even +when the letter had been read. + +"Great doings--those!" he exclaimed, as he folded the letter. + +"Yes, indeed; fine!" murmured Pollyanna, trying to speak with due +enthusiasm. + +"And it's to-night, too, isn't it? I'd like to drop in on them about +now." + +"Yes," murmured Pollyanna again, with still more careful enthusiasm. + +"Mrs. Carew knew what she was about when she got Jimmy to help her, I +fancy," chuckled the man. "But I'm wondering how Jimmy likes +it--playing Santa Claus to half a hundred young women at once!" + +"Why, he finds it delightful, of course!" Pollyanna lifted her chin +ever so slightly. + +"Maybe. Still, it's a little different from learning to build bridges, +you must confess." + +"Oh, yes." + +"But I'll risk Jimmy, and I'll risk wagering that those girls never +had a better time than he'll give them to-night, too." + +"Y-yes, of course," stammered Pollyanna, trying to keep the hated +tremulousness out of her voice, and trying very hard NOT to compare +her own dreary evening in Beldingsville with nobody but John Pendleton +to that of those fifty girls in Boston--with Jimmy. + +There was a brief pause, during which John Pendleton gazed dreamily at +the dancing fire on the hearth. + +"She's a wonderful woman--Mrs. Carew is," he said at last. + +"She is, indeed!" This time the enthusiasm in Pollyanna's voice was +all pure gold. + +"Jimmy's written me before something of what she's done for those +girls," went on the man, still gazing into the fire. "In just the last +letter before this he wrote a lot about it, and about her. He said he +always admired her, but never so much as now, when he can see what she +really is." + +"She's a dear--that's what Mrs. Carew is," declared Pollyanna, warmly. +"She's a dear in every way, and I love her." + +John Pendleton stirred suddenly. He turned to Pollyanna with an oddly +whimsical look in his eyes. + +"I know you do, my dear. For that matter, there may be others, +too--that love her." + +Pollyanna's heart skipped a beat. A sudden thought came to her with +stunning, blinding force. JIMMY! Could John Pendleton be meaning that +Jimmy cared THAT WAY--for Mrs. Carew? + +"You mean--?" she faltered. She could not finish. + +With a nervous twitch peculiar to him, John Pendleton got to his feet. + +"I mean--the girls, of course," he answered lightly, still with that +whimsical smile. "Don't you suppose those fifty girls--love her 'most +to death?" + +Pollyanna said "yes, of course," and murmured something else +appropriate, in answer to John Pendleton's next remark. But her +thoughts were in a tumult, and she let the man do most of the talking +for the rest of the evening. + +Nor did John Pendleton seem averse to this. Restlessly he took a turn +or two about the room, then sat down in his old place. And when he +spoke, it was on his old subject, Mrs. Carew. + +"Queer--about that Jamie of hers, isn't it? I wonder if he IS her +nephew." + +As Pollyanna did not answer, the man went on, after a moment's +silence. + +"He's a fine fellow, anyway. I like him. There's something fine and +genuine about him. She's bound up in him. That's plain to be seen, +whether he's really her kin or not." + +There was--another pause, then, in a slightly altered voice, John +Pendleton said: + +"Still it's queer, too, when you come to think of it, that she +never--married again. She is certainly now--a very beautiful woman. +Don't you think so?" + +"Yes--yes, indeed she is," plunged in Pollyanna, with precipitate +haste; "a--a very beautiful woman." + +There was a little break at the last in Pollyanna's voice. Pollyanna, +just then, had caught sight of her own face in the mirror +opposite--and Pollyanna to herself was never "a very beautiful woman." + +On and on rambled John Pendleton, musingly, contentedly, his eyes on +the fire. Whether he was answered or not seemed not to disturb him. +Whether he was even listened to or not, he seemed hardly to know. He +wanted, apparently, only to talk; but at last he got to his feet +reluctantly and said good-night. + +For a weary half-hour Pollyanna had been longing for him to go, that +she might be alone; but after he had gone she wished he were back. She +had found suddenly that she did not want to be alone--with her +thoughts. + +It was wonderfully clear to Pollyanna now. There was no doubt of it. +Jimmy cared for Mrs. Carew. That was why he was so moody and restless +after she left. That was why he had come so seldom to see her, +Pollyanna, his old friend. That was why-- + +Countless little circumstances of the past summer flocked to +Pollyanna's memory now, mute witnesses that would not be denied. + +And why should he not care for her? Mrs. Carew was certainly beautiful +and charming. True, she was older than Jimmy; but young men had +married women far older than she, many times. And if they loved each +other-- + +Pollyanna cried herself to sleep that night. + +In the morning, bravely she tried to face the thing. She even tried, +with a tearful smile, to put it to the test of the glad game. She was +reminded then of something Nancy had said to her years before: "If +there IS a set o' folks in the world that wouldn't have no use for +that 'ere glad game o' your'n, it'd be a pair o' quarrellin' lovers!" + +"Not that we're 'quarrelling,' or even 'lovers,'" thought Pollyanna +blushingly; "but just the same I can be glad HE'S glad, and glad SHE'S +glad, too, only--" Even to herself Pollyanna could not finish this +sentence. + +Being so sure now that Jimmy and Mrs. Carew cared for each other, +Pollyanna became peculiarly sensitive to everything that tended to +strengthen that belief. And being ever on the watch for it, she found +it, as was to be expected. First in Mrs. Carew's letters. + +"I am seeing a lot of your friend, young Pendleton," Mrs. Carew wrote +one day; "and I'm liking him more and more. I do wish, however--just +for curiosity's sake--that I could trace to its source that elusive +feeling that I've seen him before somewhere." + +Frequently, after this, she mentioned him casually; and, to Pollyanna, +in the very casualness of these references lay their sharpest sting; +for it showed so unmistakably that Jimmy and Jimmy's presence were now +to Mrs. Carew a matter of course. From other sources, too, Pollyanna +found fuel for the fire of her suspicions. More and more frequently +John Pendleton "dropped in" with his stories of Jimmy, and of what +Jimmy was doing; and always here there was mention of Mrs. Carew. Poor +Pollyanna wondered, indeed, sometimes, if John Pendleton could not +talk of anything--but Mrs. Carew and Jimmy, so constantly was one or +the other of those names on his lips. + +There were Sadie Dean's letters, too, and they told of Jimmy, and of +what he was doing to help Mrs. Carew. Even Jamie, who wrote +occasionally, had his mite to add, for he wrote one evening: + +"It's ten o'clock. I'm sitting here alone waiting for Mrs. Carew to +come home. She and Pendleton have been to one of their usual socials +down to the Home." + +From Jimmy himself Pollyanna heard very rarely; and for that she told +herself mournfully that she COULD be GLAD. + +"For if he can't write about ANYTHING but Mrs. Carew and those girls, +I'm glad he doesn't write very often!" she sighed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE DAY POLLYANNA DID NOT PLAY + + +And so one by one the winter days passed. January and February slipped +away in snow and sleet, and March came in with a gale that whistled +and moaned around the old house, and set loose blinds to swinging and +loose gates to creaking in a way that was most trying to nerves +already stretched to the breaking point. + +Pollyanna was not finding it very easy these days to play the game, +but she was playing it faithfully, valiantly. Aunt Polly was not +playing it at all--which certainly did not make it any the easier for +Pollyanna to play it. Aunt Polly was blue and discouraged. She was not +well, too, and she had plainly abandoned herself to utter gloom. + +Pollyanna still was counting on the prize contest. She had dropped +from the first prize to one of the smaller ones, however: Pollyanna +had been writing more stories, and the regularity with which they came +back from their pilgrimages to magazine editors was beginning to shake +her faith in her success as an author. + +"Oh, well, I can be glad that Aunt Polly doesn't know anything about +it, anyway," declared Pollyanna to herself bravely, as she twisted in +her fingers the "declined-with-thanks" slip that had just towed in one +more shipwrecked story. "She CAN'T worry about this--she doesn't know +about it!" + +All of Pollyanna's life these days revolved around Aunt Polly, and it +is doubtful if even Aunt Polly herself realized how exacting she had +become, and how entirely her niece was giving up her life to her. + +It was on a particularly gloomy day in March that matters came, in a +way, to a climax. Pollyanna, upon arising, had looked at the sky with +a sigh--Aunt Polly was always more difficult on cloudy days. With a +gay little song, however, that still sounded a bit forced--Pollyanna +descended to the kitchen and began to prepare breakfast. + +"I reckon I'll make corn muffins," she told the stove confidentially; +"then maybe Aunt Polly won't mind--other things so much." + +Half an hour later she tapped at her aunt's door. + +"Up so soon? Oh, that's fine! And you've done your hair yourself!" + +"I couldn't sleep. I had to get up," sighed Aunt Polly, wearily. "I +had to do my hair, too. YOU weren't here." + +"But I didn't suppose you were ready for me, auntie," explained +Pollyanna, hurriedly. "Never mind, though. You'll be glad I wasn't +when you find what I've been doing." + +"Well, I sha'n't--not this morning," frowned Aunt Polly, perversely. +"Nobody could be glad this morning. Look at it rain! That makes the +third rainy day this week." + +"That's so--but you know the sun never seems quite so perfectly lovely +as it does after a lot of rain like this," smiled Pollyanna, deftly +arranging a bit of lace and ribbon at her aunt's throat. "Now come. +Breakfast's all ready. Just you wait till you see what I've got for +you." + +Aunt Polly, however, was not to be diverted, even by corn muffins, +this morning. Nothing was right, nothing was even endurable, as she +felt; and Pollyanna's patience was sorely taxed before the meal was +over. To make matters worse, the roof over the east attic window was +found to be leaking, and an unpleasant letter came in the mail. +Pollyanna, true to her creed, laughingly declared that, for her part, +she was glad they had a roof--to leak; and that, as for the letter, +she'd been expecting it for a week, anyway, and she was actually glad +she wouldn't have to worry any more for fear it would come. It +COULDN'T come now, because it HAD come; and 'twas over with. + +All this, together with sundry other hindrances and annoyances, +delayed the usual morning work until far into the afternoon--something +that was always particularly displeasing to methodical Aunt Polly, who +ordered her own life, preferably, by the tick of the clock. + +"But it's half-past three, Pollyanna, already! Did you know it?" she +fretted at last. "And you haven't made the beds yet." + +"No, dearie, but I will. Don't worry." + +"But, did you hear what I said? Look at the clock, child. It's after +three o'clock!" + +"So 'tis, but never mind, Aunt Polly. We can be glad 'tisn't after +four." + +Aunt Polly sniffed her disdain. + +"I suppose YOU can," she observed tartly. + +Pollyanna laughed. + +"Well, you see, auntie, clocks ARE accommodating things, when you stop +to think about it. I found that out long ago at the Sanatorium. When I +was doing something that I liked, and I didn't WANT the time to go +fast, I'd just look at the hour hand, and I'd feel as if I had lots of +time--it went so slow. Then, other days, when I had to keep something +that hurt on for an hour, maybe, I'd watch the little second hand; and +you see then I felt as if Old Time was just humping himself to help me +out by going as fast as ever he could. Now I'm watching the hour hand +to-day, 'cause I don't want Time to go fast. See?" she twinkled +mischievously, as she hurried from the room, before Aunt Polly had +time to answer. + +It was certainly a hard day, and by night Pollyanna looked pale and +worn out. This, too, was a source of worriment to Aunt Polly. + +"Dear me, child, you look tired to death!" she fumed. "WHAT we're +going to do I don't know. I suppose YOU'LL be sick next!" + +"Nonsense, auntie! I'm not sick a bit," declared Pollyanna, dropping +herself with a sigh on to the couch. "But I AM tired. My! how good +this couch feels! I'm glad I'm tired, after all--it's so nice to +rest." + +Aunt Polly turned with an impatient gesture. + +"Glad--glad--glad! Of course you're glad, Pollyanna. You're always +glad for everything. I never saw such a girl. Oh, yes, I know it's the +game," she went on, in answer to the look that came to Pollyanna's +face. "And it's a very good game, too; but I think you carry it +altogether too far. This eternal doctrine of 'it might be worse' has +got on my nerves, Pollyanna. Honestly, it would be a real relief if +you WOULDN'T be glad for something, sometime!" + +"Why, auntie!" Pollyanna pulled herself half erect. + +"Well, it would. You just try it sometime, and see." + +"But, auntie, I--" Pollyanna stopped and eyed her aunt reflectively. +An odd look came to her eyes; a slow smile curved her lips. Mrs. +Chilton, who had turned back to her work, paid no heed; and, after a +minute, Pollyanna lay back on the couch without finishing her +sentence, the curious smile still on her lips. + +It was raining again when Pollyanna got up the next morning, and a +northeast wind was still whistling down the chimney. Pollyanna at the +window drew an involuntary sigh; but almost at once her face changed. + +"Oh, well, I'm glad--" She clapped her hands to her lips. "Dear me," +she chuckled softly, her eyes dancing, "I shall forget--I know I +shall; and that'll spoil it all! I must just remember not to be glad +for anything--not ANYTHING to-day." + +Pollyanna did not make corn muffins that morning. She started the +breakfast, then went to her aunt's room. + +Mrs. Chilton was still in bed. + +"I see it rains, as usual," she observed, by way of greeting. + +"Yes, it's horrid--perfectly horrid," scolded Pollyanna. "It's rained +'most every day this week, too. I hate such weather." + +Aunt Polly turned with a faint surprise in her eyes; but Pollyanna was +looking the other way. + +"Are you going to get up now?" she asked a little wearily. + +"Why, y-yes," murmured Aunt Polly, still with that faint surprise in +her eyes. "What's the matter, Pollyanna? Are you especially tired?" + +"Yes, I am tired this morning. I didn't sleep well, either. I hate not +to sleep. Things always plague so in the night, when you wake up." + +"I guess I know that," fretted Aunt Polly. "I didn't sleep a wink +after two o'clock myself. And there's that roof! How are we going to +have it fixed, pray, if it never stops raining? Have you been up to +empty the pans?" + +"Oh, yes--and took up some more. There's a new leak now, further +over." + +"A new one! Why, it'll all be leaking yet!" + +Pollyanna opened her lips. She had almost said, "Well, we can be glad +to have it fixed all at once, then," when she suddenly remembered, and +substituted, in a tired voice: + +"Very likely it will, auntie. It looks like it now, fast enough. +Anyway, it's made fuss enough for a whole roof already, and I'm sick +of it!" With which statement, Pollyanna, her face carefully averted, +turned and trailed listlessly out of the room. + +"It's so funny and so--so hard, I'm afraid I'm making a mess of it," +she whispered to herself anxiously, as she hurried down-stairs to the +kitchen. + +Behind her, Aunt Polly, in the bedroom, gazed after her with eyes that +were again faintly puzzled. + +Aunt Polly had occasion a good many times before six o'clock that +night to gaze at Pollyanna with surprised and questioning eyes. +Nothing was right with Pollyanna. The fire would not burn, the wind +blew one particular blind loose three times, and still a third leak +was discovered in the roof. The mail brought to Pollyanna a letter +that made her cry (though no amount of questioning on Aunt Polly's +part would persuade her to tell why). Even the dinner went wrong, and +innumerable things happened in the afternoon to call out fretful, +discouraged remarks. + +Not until the day was more than half gone did a look of shrewd +suspicion suddenly fight for supremacy with the puzzled questioning in +Aunt Polly's eyes. If Pollyanna saw this she made no sign. Certainly +there was no abatement in her fretfulness and discontent. Long before +six o'clock, however, the suspicion in Aunt Polly's eyes became +conviction, and drove to ignominious defeat the puzzled questioning. +But, curiously enough then, a new look came to take its place, a look +that was actually a twinkle of amusement. + +At last, after a particularly doleful complaint on Pollyanna's part, +Aunt Polly threw up her hands with a gesture of half-laughing despair. + +"That'll do, that'll do, child! I'll give up. I'll confess myself +beaten at my own game. You can be--GLAD for that, if you like," she +finished with a grim smile. + +"I know, auntie, but you said--" began Pollyanna demurely. + +"Yes, yes, but I never will again," interrupted Aunt Polly, with +emphasis. "Mercy, what a day this has been! I never want to live +through another like it." She hesitated, flushed a little, then went +on with evident difficulty: "Furthermore, I--I want you to know +that--that I understand I haven't played the game myself--very well, +lately; but, after this, I'm going to--to try--WHERE'S my +handkerchief?" she finished sharply, fumbling in the folds of her +dress. + +Pollyanna sprang to her feet and crossed instantly to her aunt's side. + +"Oh, but Aunt Polly, I didn't mean--It was just a--a joke," she +quavered in quick distress. "I never thought of your taking it THAT +way." + +"Of course you didn't," snapped Aunt Polly, with all the asperity of a +stern, repressed woman who abhors scenes and sentiment, and who is +mortally afraid she will show that her heart has been touched. "Don't +you suppose I know you didn't mean it that way? Do you think, if I +thought you HAD been trying to teach me a lesson that I'd--I'd--" But +Pollyanna's strong young arms had her in a close embrace, and she +could not finish the sentence. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +JIMMY AND JAMIE + + +Pollyanna was not the only one that was finding that winter a hard +one. In Boston Jimmy Pendleton, in spite of his strenuous efforts to +occupy his time and thoughts, was discovering that nothing quite +erased from his vision a certain pair of laughing blue eyes, and +nothing quite obliterated from his memory a certain well-loved, merry +voice. + +Jimmy told himself that if it were not for Mrs. Carew, and the fact +that he could be of some use to her, life would not be worth the +living. Even at Mrs. Carew's it was not all joy, for always there was +Jamie; and Jamie brought thoughts of Pollyanna--unhappy thoughts. + +Being thoroughly convinced that Jamie and Pollyanna cared for each +other, and also being equally convinced that he himself was in honor +bound to step one side and give the handicapped Jamie full right of +way, it never occurred to him to question further. Of Pollyanna he did +not like to talk or to hear. He knew that both Jamie and Mrs. Carew +heard from her; and when they spoke of her, he forced himself to +listen, in spite of his heartache. But he always changed the subject +as soon as possible, and he limited his own letters to her to the +briefest and most infrequent epistles possible. For, to Jimmy, a +Pollyanna that was not his was nothing but a source of pain and +wretchedness; and he had been so glad when the time came for him to +leave Beldingsville and take up his studies again in Boston: to be so +near Pollyanna, and yet so far from her, he had found to be nothing +but torture. + +In Boston, with all the feverishness of a restless mind that seeks +distraction from itself, he had thrown himself into the carrying out +of Mrs. Carew's plans for her beloved working girls, and such time as +could be spared from his own duties he had devoted to this work, much +to Mrs. Carew's delight and gratitude. + +And so for Jimmy the winter had passed and spring had come--a joyous, +blossoming spring full of soft breezes, gentle showers, and tender +green buds expanding into riotous bloom and fragrance. To Jimmy, +however, it was anything but a joyous spring, for in his heart was +still nothing but a gloomy winter of discontent. + +"If only they'd settle things and announce the engagement, once for +all," murmured Jimmy to himself, more and more frequently these days. +"If only I could know SOMETHING for sure, I think I could stand it +better!" + +Then one day late in April, he had his wish--a part of it: he learned +"something for sure." + +It was ten o'clock on a Saturday morning, and Mary, at Mrs. Carew's, +had ushered him into the music-room with a well-trained: "I'll tell +Mrs. Carew you're here, sir. She's expecting you, I think." + +In the music-room Jimmy had found himself brought to a dismayed halt +by the sight of Jamie at the piano, his arms outflung upon the rack, +and his head bowed upon them. Pendleton had half turned to beat a soft +retreat when the man at the piano lifted his head, bringing into view +two flushed cheeks and a pair of fever-bright eyes. + +"Why, Carew," stammered Pendleton, aghast, "has +anything--er--happened?" + +"Happened! Happened!" ejaculated the lame youth, flinging out both his +hands, in each of which, as Pendleton now saw, was an open letter. +"Everything has happened! Wouldn't you think it had if all your life +you'd been in prison, and suddenly you saw the gates flung wide open? +Wouldn't you think it had if all in a minute you could ask the girl +you loved to be your wife? Wouldn't you think it had if--But, listen! +You think I'm crazy, but I'm not. Though maybe I am, after all, crazy +with joy. I'd like to tell you. May I? I've got to tell somebody!" + +Pendleton lifted his head. It was as if, unconsciously, he was bracing +himself for a blow. He had grown a little white; but his voice was +quite steady when he answered. + +"Sure you may, old fellow. I'd be--glad to hear it." + +Carew, however, had scarcely waited for assent. He was rushing on, +still a bit incoherently. + +"It's not much to you, of course. You have two feet and your freedom. +You have your ambitions and your bridges. But I--to me it's +everything. It's a chance to live a man's life and do a man's work, +perhaps--even if it isn't dams and bridges. It's something!--and it's +something I've proved now I CAN DO! Listen. In that letter there is +the announcement that a little story of mine has won the first +prize--$3,000, in a contest. In that other letter there, a big +publishing house accepts with flattering enthusiasm my first book +manuscript for publication. And they both came to-day--this morning. +Do you wonder I am crazy glad?" + +"No! No, indeed! I congratulate you, Carew, with all my heart," cried +Jimmy, warmly. + +"Thank you--and you may congratulate me. Think what it means to me. +Think what it means if, by and by, I can be independent, like a man. +Think what it means if I can, some day, make Mrs. Carew proud and glad +that she gave the crippled lad a place in her home and heart. Think +what it means for me to be able to tell the girl I love that I DO love +her." + +"Yes--yes, indeed, old boy!" Jimmy spoke firmly, though he had grown +very white now. + +"Of course, maybe I ought not to do that last, even now," resumed +Jamie, a swift cloud shadowing the shining brightness of his +countenance. "I'm still tied to--these." He tapped the crutches by his +side. "I can't forget, of course, that day in the woods last summer, +when I saw Pollyanna--I realize that always I'll have to run the +chance of seeing the girl I love in danger, and not being able to +rescue her." + +"Oh, but Carew--" began the other huskily. + +Carew lifted a peremptory hand. + +"I know what you'd say. But don't say it. You can't understand. YOU +aren't tied to two sticks. You did the rescuing, not I. It came to me +then how it would be, always, with me and--Sadie. I'd have to stand +aside and see others--" + +"SADIE!" cut in Jimmy, sharply. + +"Yes; Sadie Dean. You act surprised. Didn't you know? Haven't you +suspected--how I felt toward Sadie?" cried Jamie. "Have I kept it so +well to myself, then? I tried to, but--" He finished with a faint +smile and a half-despairing gesture. + +"Well, you certainly kept it all right, old fellow--from me, anyhow," +cried Jimmy, gayly. The color had come back to Jimmy's face in a rich +flood, and his eyes had grown suddenly very bright indeed. "So it's +Sadie Dean. Good! I congratulate you again, I do, I do, as Nancy +says." Jimmy was quite babbling with joy and excitement now, so great +and wonderful had been the reaction within him at the discovery that +it was Sadie, not Pollyanna, whom Jamie loved. Jamie flushed and shook +his head a bit sadly. + +"No congratulations--yet. You see, I haven't spoken to--her. But I +think she must know. I supposed everybody knew. Pray, whom did you +think it was, if not--Sadie?" + +Jimmy hesitated. Then, a little precipitately, he let it out. + +"Why, I'd thought of--Pollyanna." + +Jamie smiled and pursed his lips. + +"Pollyanna's a charming girl, and I love her--but not that way, any +more than she does me. Besides, I fancy somebody else would have +something to say about that; eh?" + +Jimmy colored like a happy, conscious boy. + +"Do you?" he challenged, trying to make his voice properly impersonal. + +"Of course! John Pendleton." + +"JOHN PENDLETON!" Jimmy wheeled sharply. + +"What about John Pendleton?" queried a new voice; and Mrs. Carew came +forward with a smile. + +Jimmy, around whose ears for the second time within five minutes the +world had crashed into fragments, barely collected himself enough for +a low word of greeting. But Jamie, unabashed, turned with a triumphant +air of assurance. + +"Nothing; only I just said that I believed John Pendleton would have +something to say about Pollyanna's loving anybody--but him." + +"POLLYANNA! JOHN PENDLETON!" Mrs. Carew sat down suddenly in the chair +nearest her. If the two men before her had not been so deeply absorbed +in their own affairs they might have noticed that the smile had +vanished from Mrs. Carew's lips, and that an odd look as of almost +fear had come to her eyes. + +"Certainly," maintained Jamie. "Were you both blind last summer? +Wasn't he with her a lot?" + +"Why, I thought he was with--all of us," murmured Mrs. Carew, a little +faintly. + +"Not as he was with Pollyanna," insisted Jamie. "Besides, have you +forgotten that day when we were talking about John Pendleton's +marrying, and Pollyanna blushed and stammered and said finally that he +HAD thought of marrying--once. Well, I wondered then if there wasn't +SOMETHING between them. Don't you remember?" + +"Y-yes, I think I do--now that you speak of it," murmured Mrs. Carew +again. "But I had--forgotten it." + +"Oh, but I can explain that," cut in Jimmy, wetting his dry lips. +"John Pendleton DID have a love affair once, but it was with +Pollyanna's mother." + +"Pollyanna's mother!" exclaimed two voices in surprise. + +"Yes. He loved her years ago, but she did not care for him at all, I +understand. She had another lover--a minister, and she married him +instead--Pollyanna's father." + +"Oh-h!" breathed Mrs. Carew, leaning forward suddenly in her chair. +"And is that why he's--never married?" + +"Yes," avouched Jimmy. "So you see there's really nothing to that idea +at all--that he cares for Pollyanna. It was her mother." + +"On the contrary I think it makes a whole lot to that idea," declared +Jamie, wagging his head wisely. "I think it makes my case all the +stronger. Listen. He once loved the mother. He couldn't have her. What +more absolutely natural than that he should love the daughter now--and +win her?" + +"Oh, Jamie, you incorrigible spinner of tales!" reproached Mrs. Carew, +with a nervous laugh. "This is no ten-penny novel. It's real life. +She's too young for him. He ought to marry a woman, not a girl--that +is, if he marries any one, I mean," she stammeringly corrected, a +sudden flood of color in her face. + +"Perhaps; but what if it happens to be a GIRL that he loves?" argued +Jamie, stubbornly. "And, really, just stop to think. Have we had a +single letter from her that hasn't told of his being there? And you +KNOW how HE'S always talking of Pollyanna in his letters." + +Mrs. Carew got suddenly to her feet. + +"Yes, I know," she murmured, with an odd little gesture, as if +throwing something distasteful aside. "But--" She did not finish her +sentence, and a moment later she had left the room. + +When she came back in five minutes she found, much to her surprise, +that Jimmy had gone. + +"Why, I thought he was going with us on the girls' picnic!" she +exclaimed. + +"So did I," frowned Jamie. "But the first thing I knew he was +explaining or apologizing or something about unexpectedly having to +leave town, and he'd come to tell you he couldn't go with us. Anyhow, +the next thing I knew he'd gone. You see,"--Jamie's eyes were glowing +again--"I don't think I knew quite what he did say, anyway. I had +something else to think of." And he jubilantly spread before her the +two letters which all the time he had still kept in his hands. + +"Oh, Jamie!" breathed Mrs. Carew, when she had read the letters +through. "How proud I am of you!" Then suddenly her eyes filled with +tears at the look of ineffable joy that illumined Jamie's face. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +JIMMY AND JOHN + + +It was a very determined, square-jawed young man that alighted at the +Beldingsville station late that Saturday night. And it was an even +more determined, square-jawed young man that, before ten o'clock the +next morning, stalked through the Sunday-quiet village streets and +climbed the hill to the Harrington homestead. Catching sight of a +loved and familiar flaxen coil of hair on a well-poised little head +just disappearing into the summerhouse, the young man ignored the +conventional front steps and doorbell, crossed the lawn, and strode +through the garden paths until he came face to face with the owner of +the flaxen coil of hair. + +"Jimmy!" gasped Pollyanna, falling back with startled eyes. "Why, +where did you--come from?" + +"Boston. Last night. I had to see you, Pollyanna." + +"To--see--m-me?" Pollyanna was plainly fencing for time to regain her +composure. Jimmy looked so big and strong and DEAR there in the door +of the summerhouse that she feared her eyes had been surprised into a +telltale admiration, if not more. + +"Yes, Pollyanna; I wanted--that is, I thought--I mean, I feared--Oh, +hang it all, Pollyanna, I can't beat about the bush like this. I'll +have to come straight to the point. It's just this. I stood aside +before, but I won't now. It isn't a case any longer of fairness. He +isn't crippled like Jamie. He's got feet and hands and a head like +mine, and if he wins he'll have to win in a fair fight. I'VE got some +rights!" + +Pollyanna stared frankly. + +"Jimmy Bean Pendleton, whatever in the world are you talking about?" +she demanded. + +The young man laughed shamefacedly. + +"No wonder you don't know. It wasn't very lucid, was it? But I don't +think I've been really lucid myself since yesterday--when I found out +from Jamie himself." + +"Found out--from Jamie!" + +"Yes. It was the prize that started it. You see, he'd just got one, +and--" + +"Oh, I know about that," interrupted Pollyanna, eagerly. "And wasn't +it splendid? Just think--the first one--three thousand dollars! I +wrote him a letter last night. Why, when I saw his name, and realized +it was Jamie--OUR JAMIE--I was so excited I forgot all about looking +for MY name, and even when I couldn't find mine at all, and knew that +I hadn't got any--I mean, I was so excited and pleased for Jamie that +I--I forgot--er--everything else," corrected Pollyanna, throwing a +dismayed glance into Jimmy's face, and feverishly trying to cover up +the partial admission she had made. + +Jimmy, however, was too intent on his own problem to notice hers. + +"Yes, yes, 'twas fine, of course. I'm glad he got it. But Pollyanna, +it was what he said AFTERWARD that I mean. You see, until then I'd +thought that--that he cared--that you cared--for each other, I mean; +and--" + +"You thought that Jamie and I cared for each other!" exclaimed +Pollyanna, into whose face now was stealing a soft, shy color. "Why, +Jimmy, it's Sadie Dean. 'Twas always Sadie Dean. He used to talk of +her to me by the hour. I think she likes him, too." + +"Good! I hope she does; but, you see, I didn't know. I thought 'twas +Jamie--and you. And I thought that because he was--was a cripple, you +know, that it wouldn't be fair if I--if I stayed around and tried to +win you myself." + +Pollyanna stooped suddenly, and picked up a leaf at her feet. When she +rose, her face was turned quite away. + +"A fellow can't--can't feel square, you know, running a race with a +chap that--that's handicapped from the start. So I--I just stayed away +and gave him his chance; though it 'most broke my heart to do it, +little girl. It just did! Then yesterday morning I found out. But I +found out something else, too. Jamie says there is--is somebody else +in the case. But I can't stand aside for him, Pollyanna. I can't--even +in spite of all he's done for me. John Pendleton is a man, and he's +got two whole feet for the race. He's got to take his chances. If you +care for him--if you really care for him--" + +But Pollyanna had turned, wild-eyed. + +"JOHN PENDLETON! Jimmy, what do you mean? What are you saying--about +John Pendleton?" + +A great joy transfigured Jimmy's face. He held out both his hands. + +"Then you don't--you don't! I can see it in your eyes that you +don't--care!" + +Pollyanna shrank back. She was white and trembling. + +"Jimmy, what do you mean? What do you mean?" she begged piteously. + +"I mean--you don't care for Uncle John, that way. Don't you +understand? Jamie thinks you do care, and that anyway he cares for +you. And then I began to see it--that maybe he did. He's always +talking about you; and, of course, there was your mother--" + +Pollyanna gave a low moan and covered her face with her hands. Jimmy +came close and laid a caressing arm about her shoulders; but again +Pollyanna shrank from him. + +"Pollyanna, little girl, don't! You'll break my heart," he begged. +"Don't you care for me--ANY? Is it that, and you don't want to tell +me?" + +She dropped her hands and faced him. Her eyes had the hunted look of +some wild thing at bay. + +"Jimmy, do YOU think--he cares for me--that way?" she entreated, just +above a whisper. + +Jimmy gave his head an impatient shake. + +"Never mind that, Pollyanna,--now. I don't know, of course. How should +I? But, dearest, that isn't the question. It's you. If YOU don't care +for him, and if you'll only give me a chance--half a chance to let me +make you care for me--" He caught her hand, and tried to draw her to +him. + +"No, no, Jimmy, I mustn't! I can't!" With both her little palms she +pushed him from her. + +"Pollyanna, you don't mean you DO care for him?" Jimmy's face +whitened. + +"No; no, indeed--not that way," faltered Pollyanna. "But--don't you +see?--if he cares for me, I'll have to--to learn to, someway." + +"POLLYANNA!" + +"Don't! Don't look at me like that, Jimmy!" + +"You mean you'd MARRY him, Pollyanna?" + +"Oh, no!--I mean--why--er--y-yes, I suppose so," she admitted faintly. + +"Pollyanna, you wouldn't! You couldn't! Pollyanna, you--you're +breaking my heart." + +Pollyanna gave a low sob. Her face was in her hands again. For a +moment she sobbed on, chokingly; then, with a tragic gesture, she +lifted her head and looked straight into Jimmy's anguished, +reproachful eyes. + +"I know it, I know it," she chattered frenziedly. "I'm breaking mine, +too. But I'll have to do it. I'd break your heart, I'd break mine--but +I'd never break his!" + +Jimmy raised his head. His eyes flashed a sudden fire. His whole +appearance underwent a swift and marvelous change. With a tender, +triumphant cry he swept Pollyanna into his arms and held her close. + +"Now I KNOW you care for me!" he breathed low in her ear. "You said it +was breaking YOUR heart, too. Do you think I'll give you up now to any +man on earth? Ah, dear, you little understand a love like mine if you +think I'd give you up now. Pollyanna, say you love me--say it with +your own dear lips!" + +For one long minute Pollyanna lay unresisting in the fiercely tender +embrace that encircled her; then with a sigh that was half content, +half renunciation, she began to draw herself away. + +"Yes, Jimmy, I do love you." Jimmy's arms tightened, and would have +drawn her back to him; but something in the girl's face forbade. "I +love you dearly. But I couldn't ever be happy with you and feel +that--Jimmy, don't you see, dear? I'll have to know--that I'm free, +first." + +"Nonsense, Pollyanna! Of course you're free!" Jimmy's eyes were +mutinous again. + +Pollyanna shook her head. + +"Not with this hanging over me, Jimmy. Don't you see? It was mother, +long ago, that broke his heart--MY MOTHER. And all these years he's +lived a lonely, unloved life in consequence. If now he should come to +me and ask me to make that up to him, I'd HAVE to do it, Jimmy. I'd +HAVE to. I couldn't REFUSE! Don't you see?" + +But Jimmy did not see; he could not see. He would not see, though +Pollyanna pleaded and argued long and tearfully. But Pollyanna, too, +was obdurate, though so sweetly and heartbrokenly obdurate that Jimmy, +in spite of his pain and anger, felt almost like turning comforter. + +"Jimmy, dear," said Pollyanna, at last, "we'll have to wait. That's +all I can say now. I hope he doesn't care; and I--I don't believe he +does care. But I've got to KNOW. I've got to be sure. We'll just have +to wait, a little, till we find out, Jimmy--till we find out!" + +And to this plan Jimmy had to submit, though it was with a most +rebellious heart. + +"All right, little girl, it'll have to be as you say, of course," he +despaired. "But, surely, never before was a man kept waiting for his +answer till the girl he loved, AND WHO LOVED HIM, found out if the +other man wanted her!" + +"I know; but, you see, dear, never before had the other man WANTED her +mother," sighed Pollyanna, her face puckered into an anxious frown. + +"Very well, I'll go back to Boston, of course," acceded Jimmy +reluctantly. "But you needn't think I've given up--because I haven't. +Nor I sha'n't give up, just so long as I know you really care for me, +my little sweetheart," he finished, with a look that sent her +palpitatingly into retreat, just out of reach of his arms. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +JOHN PENDLETON TURNS THE KEY + + +Jimmy went back to Boston that night in a state that was a most +tantalizing commingling of happiness, hope, exasperation, and +rebellion. Behind him he left a girl who was in a scarcely less +enviable frame of mind; for Pollyanna, tremulously happy in the +wondrous thought of Jimmy's love for her, was yet so despairingly +terrified at the thought of the possible love of John Pendleton, that +there was not a thrill of joy that did not carry its pang of fear. + +Fortunately for all concerned, however, this state of affairs was not +of long duration; for, as it chanced, John Pendleton, in whose +unwitting hands lay the key to the situation, in less than a week +after Jimmy's hurried visit, turned that key in the lock, and opened +the door of doubt. + +It was late Thursday afternoon that John Pendleton called to see +Pollyanna. As it happened, he, like Jimmy, saw Pollyanna in the garden +and came straight toward her. + +Pollyanna, looking into his face, felt a sudden sinking of the heart. + +"It's come--it's come!" she shivered; and involuntarily she turned as +if to flee. + +[Illustration: "Involuntarily she turned as if to flee"] + +"Oh, Pollyanna, wait a minute, please," called the man hastening his +steps. "You're just the one I wanted to see. Come, can't we go in +here?" he suggested, turning toward the summerhouse. "I want to speak +to you about--something." + +"Why, y-yes, of course," stammered Pollyanna, with forced gayety. +Pollyanna knew that she was blushing, and she particularly wished not +to blush just then. It did not help matters any, either, that he +should have elected to go into the summerhouse for his talk. The +summerhouse now, to Pollyanna, was sacred to certain dear memories of +Jimmy. "And to think it should be here--HERE!" she was shuddering +frantically. But aloud she said, still gayly, "It's a lovely evening, +isn't it?" + +There was no answer. John Pendleton strode into the summerhouse and +dropped himself into a rustic chair without even waiting for Pollyanna +to seat herself--a most unusual proceeding on the part of John +Pendleton. Pollyanna, stealing a nervous glance at his face found it +so startlingly like the old stern, sour visage of her childhood's +remembrance, that she uttered an involuntary exclamation. + +Still John Pendleton paid no heed. Still moodily he sat wrapped in +thought. At last, however, he lifted his head and gazed somberly into +Pollyanna's startled eyes. + +"Pollyanna." + +"Yes, Mr. Pendleton." + +"Do you remember the sort of man I was when you first knew me, years +ago?" + +"Why, y-yes, I think so." + +"Delightfully agreeable specimen of humanity, wasn't I?" + +In spite of her perturbation Pollyanna smiled faintly. + +"I--_I_ liked you, sir." Not until the words were uttered did +Pollyanna realize just how they would sound. She strove then, +frantically, to recall or modify them and had almost added a "that is, +I mean, I liked you THEN!" when she stopped just in time: certainly +THAT would not have helped matters any! She listened then, fearfully, +for John Pendleton's next words. They came almost at once. + +"I know you did--bless your little heart! And it was that that was the +saving of me. I wonder, Pollyanna, if I could ever make you realize +just what your childish trust and liking did for me." + +Pollyanna stammered a confused protest; but he brushed it smilingly +aside. + +"Oh, yes, it was! It was you, and no one else. I wonder if you +remember another thing, too," resumed the man, after a moment's +silence, during which Pollyanna looked furtively, but longingly toward +the door. "I wonder if you remember my telling you once that nothing +but a woman's hand and heart, or a child's presence could make a +home." + +Pollyanna felt the blood rush to her face. + +"Y-yes, n-no--I mean, yes, I remember it," she stuttered; "but I--I +don't think it's always so now. I mean--that is, I'm sure your home +now is--is lovely just as 'tis, and--" + +"But it's my home I'm talking about, child," interrupted the man, +impatiently. "Pollyanna, you know the kind of home I once hoped to +have, and how those hopes were dashed to the ground. Don't think, +dear, I'm blaming your mother. I'm not. She but obeyed her heart, +which was right; and she made the wiser choice, anyway, as was proved +by the dreary waste I've made of life because of that disappointment. +After all, Pollyanna, isn't it strange," added John Pendleton, his +voice growing tender, "that it should be the little hand of her own +daughter that led me into the path of happiness, at last?" + +Pollyanna moistened her lips convulsively. + +"Oh, but Mr. Pendleton, I--I--" + +Once again the man brushed aside her protests with a smiling gesture. + +"Yes, it was, Pollyanna, your little hand in the long ago--you, and +your glad game." + +"Oh-h!" Pollyanna relaxed visibly in her seat. The terror in her eyes +began slowly to recede. + +"And so all these years I've been gradually growing into a different +man, Pollyanna. But there's one thing I haven't changed in, my dear." +He paused, looked away, then turned gravely tender eyes back to her +face. "I still think it takes a woman's hand and heart or a child's +presence to make a home." + +"Yes; b-but you've g-got the child's presence," plunged in Pollyanna, +the terror coming back to her eyes. "There's Jimmy, you know." + +The man gave an amused laugh. + +"I know; but--I don't think even you would say that Jimmy is--is +exactly a CHILD'S presence any longer," he remarked. + +"N-no, of course not." + +"Besides--Pollyanna, I've made up my mind. I've got to have the +woman's hand and heart." His voice dropped, and trembled a little. + +"Oh-h, have you?" Pollyanna's fingers met and clutched each other in a +spasmodic clasp. John Pendleton, however, seemed neither to hear nor +see. He had leaped to his feet, and was nervously pacing up and down +the little house. + +"Pollyanna," he stopped and faced her; "if--if you were I, and were +going to ask the woman you loved to come and make your old gray pile +of stone a home, how would you go to work to do it?" + +Pollyanna half started from her chair. Her eyes sought the door, this +time openly, longingly. + +"Oh, but, Mr. Pendleton, I wouldn't do it at all, at all," she +stammered, a little wildly. "I'm sure you'd be--much happier as--as +you are." + +The man stared in puzzled surprise, then laughed grimly. + +"Upon my word, Pollyanna, is it--quite so bad as that?" he asked. + +"B-bad?" Pollyanna had the appearance of being poised for flight. + +"Yes. Is that just your way of trying to soften the blow of saying +that you don't think she'd have me, anyway?" + +"Oh, n-no--no, indeed. She'd say yes--she'd HAVE to say yes, you +know," explained Pollyanna, with terrified earnestness. "But I've been +thinking--I mean, I was thinking that if--if the girl didn't love you, +you really would be happier without her; and--" At the look that came +into John Pendleton's face, Pollyanna stopped short. + +"I shouldn't want her, if she didn't love me, Pollyanna." + +"No, I thought not, too." Pollyanna began to look a little less +distracted. + +"Besides, she doesn't happen to be a girl," went on John Pendleton. +"She's a mature woman who, presumedly, would know her own mind." The +man's voice was grave and slightly reproachful. + +"Oh-h-h! Oh!" exclaimed Pollyanna, the dawning happiness in her eyes +leaping forth in a flash of ineffable joy and relief. "Then you love +somebody--" By an almost superhuman effort Pollyanna choked off the +"else" before it left her delighted lips. + +"Love somebody! Haven't I just been telling you I did?" laughed John +Pendleton, half vexedly. "What I want to know is--can she be made to +love me? That's where I was sort of--of counting on your help, +Pollyanna. You see, she's a dear friend of yours." + +"Is she?" gurgled Pollyanna. "Then she'll just have to love you. We'll +make her! Maybe she does, anyway, already. Who is she?" + +There was a long pause before the answer came. + +"I believe, after all, Pollyanna, I won't--yes, I will, too. +It's--can't you guess?--Mrs. Carew." + +"Oh!" breathed Pollyanna, with a face of unclouded joy. "How perfectly +lovely! I'm so glad, GLAD, GLAD!" + +A long hour later Pollyanna sent Jimmy a letter. It was confused and +incoherent--a series of half-completed, illogical, but shyly joyous +sentences, out of which Jimmy gathered much: a little from what was +written; more from what was left unwritten. After all, did he really +need more than this? + +"Oh, Jimmy, he doesn't love me a bit. It's some one else. I mustn't +tell you who it is--but her name isn't Pollyanna." + +Jimmy had just time to catch the seven o'clock train for +Beldingsville--and he caught it. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +AFTER LONG YEARS + + +Pollyanna was so happy that night after she had sent her letter to +Jimmy that she could not quite keep it to herself. Always before going +to bed she stepped into her aunt's room to see if anything were +needed. To-night, after the usual questions, she had turned to put out +the light when a sudden impulse sent her back to her aunt's bedside. A +little breathlessly she dropped on her knees. + +"Aunt Polly, I'm so happy I just had to tell some one. I WANT to tell +you. May I?" + +"Tell me? Tell me what, child? Of course you may tell me. You mean, +it's good news--for ME?" + +"Why, yes, dear; I hope so," blushed Pollyanna. "I hope it will make +you--GLAD, a little, for me, you know. Of course Jimmy will tell you +himself all properly some day. But _I_ wanted to tell you first." + +"Jimmy!" Mrs. Chilton's face changed perceptibly. + +"Yes, when--when he--he asks you for me," stammered Pollyanna, with a +radiant flood of color. "Oh, I--I'm so happy, I HAD to tell you!" + +"Asks me for you! Pollyanna!" Mrs. Chilton pulled herself up in bed. +"You don't mean to say there's anything SERIOUS between you and--Jimmy +Bean!" + +Pollyanna fell back in dismay. + +"Why, auntie, I thought you LIKED Jimmy!" + +"So I do--in his place. But that place isn't the husband of my niece." + +"AUNT POLLY!" + +"Come, come, child, don't look so shocked. This is all sheer nonsense, +and I'm glad I've been able to stop it before it's gone any further." + +"But, Aunt Polly, it HAS gone further," quavered Pollyanna. "Why, I--I +already have learned to lo-- --c-care for him--dearly." + +"Then you'll have to unlearn it, Pollyanna, for never, never will I +give my consent to your marrying Jimmy Bean." + +"But--w-why, auntie?" + +"First and foremost because we know nothing about him." + +"Why, Aunt Polly, we've always known him, ever since I was a little +girl!" + +"Yes, and what was he? A rough little runaway urchin from an Orphans' +Home! We know nothing whatever about his people, and his pedigree." + +"But I'm not marrying his p-people and his p-pedigree!" + +With an impatient groan Aunt Polly fell back on her pillow. + +"Pollyanna, you're making me positively ill. My heart is going like a +trip hammer. I sha'n't sleep a wink to-night. CAN'T you let this thing +rest till morning?" + +Pollyanna was on her feet instantly, her face all contrition. + +"Why, yes--yes, indeed; of course, Aunt Polly! And to-morrow you'll +feel different, I'm sure. I'm sure you will," reiterated the girl, her +voice quivering with hope again, as she turned to extinguish the +light. + +But Aunt Polly did not "feel different" in the morning. If anything, +her opposition to the marriage was even more determined. In vain +Pollyanna pleaded and argued. In vain she showed how deeply her +happiness was concerned. Aunt Polly was obdurate. She would have none +of the idea. She sternly admonished Pollyanna as to the possible evils +of heredity, and warned her of the dangers of marrying into she knew +not what sort of family. She even appealed at last to her sense of +duty and gratitude toward herself, and reminded Pollyanna of the long +years of loving care that had been hers in the home of her aunt, and +she begged her piteously not to break her heart by this marriage as +had her mother years before by HER marriage. + +When Jimmy himself, radiant-faced and glowing-eyed, came at ten +o'clock, he was met by a frightened, sob-shaken little Pollyanna that +tried ineffectually to hold him back with two trembling hands. With +whitening cheeks, but with defiantly tender arms that held her close, +he demanded an explanation. + +"Pollyanna, dearest, what in the world is the meaning of this?" + +"Oh, Jimmy, Jimmy, why did you come, why did you come? I was going to +write and tell you straight away," moaned Pollyanna. + +"But you did write me, dear. I got it yesterday afternoon, just in +time to catch my train." + +"No, no;--AGAIN, I mean. I didn't know then that I--I couldn't." + +"Couldn't! Pollyanna,"--his eyes flamed into stern wrath,--"you don't +mean to tell me there's anybody ELSE'S love you think you've got to +keep me waiting for?" he demanded, holding her at arm's length. + +"No, no, Jimmy! Don't look at me like that. I can't bear it!" + +"Then what is it? What is it you can't do?" + +"I can't--marry you." + +"Pollyanna, do you love me?" + +"Yes. Oh, y-yes." + +"Then you shall marry me," triumphed Jimmy, his arms enfolding her +again. + +"No, no, Jimmy, you don't understand. It's--Aunt Polly," struggled +Pollyanna. + +"AUNT POLLY!" + +"Yes. She--won't let me." + +"Ho!" Jimmy tossed his head with a light laugh. "We'll fix Aunt Polly. +She thinks she's going to lose you, but we'll just remind her that +she--she's going to gain a--a new nephew!" he finished in mock +importance. + +But Pollyanna did not smile. She turned her head hopelessly from side +to side. + +"No, no, Jimmy, you don't understand! She--she--oh, how can I tell +you?--she objects to--to YOU--for--ME." + +Jimmy's arms relaxed a little. His eyes sobered. + +"Oh, well, I suppose I can't blame her for that. I'm no--wonder, of +course," he admitted constrainedly. "Still,"--he turned loving eyes +upon her--"I'd try to make you--happy, dear." + +"Indeed you would! I know you would," protested Pollyanna, tearfully. + +"Then why not--give me a chance to try, Pollyanna, even if +she--doesn't quite approve, at first. Maybe in time, after we were +married, we could win her over." + +"Oh, but I couldn't--I couldn't do that," moaned Pollyanna, "after +what she's said. I couldn't--without her consent. You see, she's done +so much for me, and she's so dependent on me. She isn't well a bit, +now, Jimmy. And, really, lately she's been so--so loving, and she's +been trying so hard to--to play the game, you know, in spite of all +her troubles. And she--she cried, Jimmy, and begged me not to break +her heart as--as mother did long ago. And--and Jimmy, I--I just +couldn't, after all she's done for me." + +There was a moment's pause; then, with a vivid red mounting to her +forehead, Pollyanna spoke again, brokenly. + +"Jimmy, if you--if you could only tell Aunt Polly something +about--about your father, and your people, and--" + +Jimmy's arms dropped suddenly. He stepped back a little. The color +drained from his face. + +"Is--that--it?" he asked. + +"Yes." Pollyanna came nearer, and touched his arm timidly. "Don't +think--It isn't for me, Jimmy. I don't care. Besides, I KNOW that your +father and your people were all--all fine and noble, because YOU are +so fine and noble. But she--Jimmy, don't look at me like that!" + +But Jimmy, with a low moan had turned quite away from her. A minute +later, with only a few choking words, which she could not understand, +he had left the house. + +From the Harrington homestead Jimmy went straight home and sought out +John Pendleton. He found him in the great crimson-hung library where, +some years before, Pollyanna had looked fearfully about for the +"skeleton in John Pendleton's closet." + +"Uncle John, do you remember that packet father gave me?" demanded +Jimmy. + +"Why, yes. What's the matter, son?" John Pendleton had given a start +of surprise at sight of Jimmy's face. + +"That packet has got to be opened, sir." + +"But--the conditions!" + +"I can't help it. It's got to be. That's all. Will you do it?" + +"Why, y-yes, my boy, of course, if you insist; but--" he paused +helplessly. + +"Uncle John, as perhaps you have guessed, I love Pollyanna. I asked +her to be my wife, and she consented." The elder man made a delighted +exclamation, but the other did not pause, or change his sternly intent +expression. "She says now she can't--marry me. Mrs. Chilton objects. +She objects to ME." + +"OBJECTS to YOU!" John Pendleton's eyes flashed angrily. + +"Yes. I found out why when--when Pollyanna begged if I couldn't tell +her aunt something about--about my father and my people." + +"Shucks! I thought Polly Chilton had more sense--still, it's just like +her, after all. The Harringtons have always been inordinately proud of +race and family," snapped John Pendleton. "Well, could you?" + +"COULD _I_! It was on the end of my tongue to tell Pollyanna that +there couldn't have been a better father than mine was; then, +suddenly, I remembered--the packet, and what it said. And I was +afraid. I didn't dare say a word till I knew what was inside that +packet. There's something dad didn't want me to know till I was thirty +years old--when I would be a man grown, and could stand anything. See? +There's a secret somewhere in our lives. I've got to know that secret, +and I've got to know it now." + +"But, Jimmy, lad, don't look so tragic. It may be a good secret. +Perhaps it'll be something you'll LIKE to know." + +"Perhaps. But if it had been, would he have been apt to keep it from +me till I was thirty years old? No! Uncle John, it was something he +was trying to save me from till I was old enough to stand it and not +flinch. Understand, I'm not blaming dad. Whatever it was, it was +something he couldn't help, I'll warrant. But WHAT it was I've got to +know. Will you get it, please? It's in your safe, you know." + +John Pendleton rose at once. + +"I'll get it," he said. Three minutes later it lay in Jimmy's hand; +but Jimmy held it out at once. + +"I would rather you read it, sir, please. Then tell me." + +"But, Jimmy, I--very well." With a decisive gesture John Pendleton +picked up a paper-cutter, opened the envelope, and pulled out the +contents. There was a package of several papers tied together, and one +folded sheet alone, apparently a letter. This John Pendleton opened +and read first. And as he read, Jimmy, tense and breathless, watched +his face. He saw, therefore, the look of amazement, joy, and something +else he could not name, that leaped into John Pendleton's countenance. + +"Uncle John, what is it? What is it?" he demanded. + +"Read it--for yourself," answered the man, thrusting the letter into +Jimmy's outstretched hand. And Jimmy read this: + +"The enclosed papers are the legal proof that my boy Jimmy is really +James Kent, son of John Kent, who married Doris Wetherby, daughter of +William Wetherby of Boston. There is also a letter in which I explain +to my boy why I have kept him from his mother's family all these +years. If this packet is opened by him at thirty years of age, he will +read this letter, and I hope will forgive a father who feared to lose +his boy entirely, so took this drastic course to keep him to himself. +If it is opened by strangers, because of his death, I request that his +mother's people in Boston be notified at once, and the inclosed +package of papers be given, intact, into their hands. + +"JOHN KENT." + +Jimmy was pale and shaken when he looked up to meet John Pendleton's +eyes. + +"Am I--the lost--Jamie?" he faltered. + +"That letter says you have documents there to prove it," nodded the +other. + +"Mrs. Carew's nephew?" + +"Of course." + +"But, why--what--I can't realize it!" There was a moment's pause +before into Jimmy's face flashed a new joy. "Then, surely now I know +who I am! I can tell--Mrs. Chilton SOMETHING of my people." + +"I should say you could," retorted John Pendleton, dryly. "The Boston +Wetherbys can trace straight back to the crusades, and I don't know +but to the year one. That ought to satisfy her. As for your father--he +came of good stock, too, Mrs. Carew told me, though he was rather +eccentric, and not pleasing to the family, as you know, of course." + +"Yes. Poor dad! And what a life he must have lived with me all those +years--always dreading pursuit. I can understand--lots of things, now, +that used to puzzle me. A woman called me 'Jamie,' once. Jove! how +angry he was! I know now why he hurried me away that night without +even waiting for supper. Poor dad! It was right after that he was +taken sick. He couldn't use his hands or his feet, and very soon he +couldn't talk straight. Something ailed his speech. I remember when he +died he was trying to tell me something about this packet. I believe +now he was telling me to open it, and go to my mother's people; but I +thought then he was just telling me to keep it safe. So that's what I +promised him. But it didn't comfort him any. It only seemed to worry +him more. You see, I didn't understand. Poor dad!" + +"Suppose we take a look at these papers," suggested John Pendleton. +"Besides, there's a letter from your father to you, I understand. +Don't you want to read it?" + +"Yes, of course. And then--" the young fellow laughed shamefacedly and +glanced at the clock--"I was wondering just how soon I could go +back--to Pollyanna." + +A thoughtful frown came to John Pendleton's face. He glanced at Jimmy, +hesitated, then spoke. + +"I know you want to see Pollyanna, lad, and I don't blame you; but it +strikes me that, under the circumstances, you should go first to--Mrs. +Carew, and take these." He tapped the papers before him. + +Jimmy drew his brows together and pondered. + +"All right, sir, I will." he agreed resignedly. + +"And if you don't mind, I'd like to go with you," further suggested +John Pendleton, a little diffidently. + +"I--I have a little matter of my own that I'd like to see--your aunt +about. Suppose we go down today on the three o'clock?" + +"Good! We will, sir. Gorry! And so I'm Jamie! I can't grasp it yet!" +exclaimed the young man, springing to his feet, and restlessly moving +about the room. "I wonder, now," he stopped, and colored boyishly, "do +you think--Aunt Ruth--will mind--very much?" + +John Pendleton shook his head. A hint of the old somberness came into +his eyes. + +"Hardly, my boy. But--I'm thinking of myself. How about it? When +you're her boy, where am I coming in?" + +"You! Do you think ANYTHING could put you one side?" scoffed Jimmy, +fervently. "You needn't worry about that. And SHE won't mind. She has +Jamie, you know, and--" He stopped short, a dawning dismay in his +eyes. "By George! Uncle John, I forgot--Jamie. This is going to be +tough on--Jamie!" + +"Yes, I'd thought of that. Still, he's legally adopted, isn't he?" + +"Oh, yes; it isn't that. It's the fact that he isn't the real Jamie +himself--and he with his two poor useless legs! Why, Uncle John, it'll +just about kill him. I've heard him talk. I know. Besides, Pollyanna +and Mrs. Carew both have told me how he feels, how SURE he is, and how +happy he is. Great Scott! I can't take away from him this--But what +CAN I do?" "I don't know, my boy. I don't see as there's anything you +can do, but what you are doing." + +There was a long silence. Jimmy had resumed his nervous pacing up and +down the room. Suddenly he wheeled, his face alight. + +"There IS a way, and I'll do it. I KNOW Mrs. Carew will agree. WE +WON'T TELL! We won't tell anybody but Mrs. Carew herself, and--and +Pollyanna and her aunt. I'll HAVE to tell them," he added defensively. + +"You certainly will, my boy. As for the rest--" John Pendleton paused +doubtfully. + +"It's nobody's business." + +"But, remember, you are making quite a sacrifice--in several ways. I +want you to weigh it well." + +"Weigh it? I have weighed it, and there's nothing in it--with Jamie on +the other side of the scales, sir. I just couldn't do it. That's all." + +"I don't blame you, and I think you're right," declared John Pendleton +heartily. "Furthermore, I believe Mrs. Carew will agree with you, +particularly as she'll KNOW now that the real Jamie is found at last." + +"You know she's always said she'd seen me somewhere," chuckled Jimmy. +"Now how soon does that train go? I'm ready." + +"Well, I'm not," laughed John Pendleton. "Luckily for me it doesn't go +for some hours yet, anyhow," he finished, as he got to his feet and +left the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +A NEW ALADDIN + + +Whatever were John Pendleton's preparations for departure--and they +were both varied and hurried--they were done in the open, with two +exceptions. The exceptions were two letters, one addressed to +Pollyanna, and one to Mrs. Polly Chilton. These letters, together with +careful and minute instructions, were given into the hands of Susan, +his housekeeper, to be delivered after they should be gone. But of all +this Jimmy knew nothing. + +The travelers were nearing Boston when John Pendleton said to Jimmy: + +"My boy, I've got one favor to ask--or rather, two. The first is that +we say nothing to Mrs. Carew until to-morrow afternoon; the other is +that you allow me to go first and be your--er--ambassador, you +yourself not appearing on the scene until perhaps, say--four o'clock. +Are you willing?" + +"Indeed I am," replied Jimmy, promptly; "not only willing, but +delighted. I'd been wondering how I was going to break the ice, and +I'm glad to have somebody else do it." + +"Good! Then I'll try to get--YOUR AUNT on the telephone to-morrow +morning and make my appointment." + +True to his promise, Jimmy did not appear at the Carew mansion until +four o'clock the next afternoon. Even then he felt suddenly so +embarrassed that he walked twice by the house before he summoned +sufficient courage to go up the steps and ring the bell. Once in Mrs. +Carew's presence, however, he was soon his natural self, so quickly +did she set him at his ease, and so tactfully did she handle the +situation. To be sure, at the very first, there were a few tears, and +a few incoherent exclamations. Even John Pendleton had to reach a +hasty hand for his handkerchief. But before very long a semblance of +normal tranquillity was restored, and only the tender glow in Mrs. +Carew's eyes, and the ecstatic happiness in Jimmy's and John +Pendleton's was left to mark the occasion as something out of the +ordinary. + +"And I think it's so fine of you--about Jamie!" exclaimed Mrs. Carew, +after a little. "Indeed, Jimmy--(I shall still call you Jimmy, for +obvious reasons; besides, I like it better, for you)--indeed I think +you're just right, if you're willing to do it. And I'm making some +sacrifice myself, too," she went on tearfully, "for I should be so +proud to introduce you to the world as my nephew." + +"And, indeed, Aunt Ruth, I--" At a half-stifled exclamation from John +Pendleton, Jimmy stopped short. He saw then that Jamie and Sadie Dean +stood just inside the door. Jamie's face was very white. + +"AUNT RUTH!" he exclaimed, looking from one to the other with startled +eyes. "AUNT RUTH! You don't mean--" + +All the blood receded from Mrs. Carew's face, and from Jimmy's, too. +John Pendleton, however, advanced jauntily. + +"Yes, Jamie; why not? I was going to tell you soon, anyway, so I'll +tell you now." (Jimmy gasped and stepped hastily forward, but John +Pendleton silenced him with a look.) "Just a little while ago Mrs. +Carew made me the happiest of men by saying yes to a certain question +I asked. Now, as Jimmy calls me 'Uncle John,' why shouldn't he begin +right away to call Mrs. Carew 'Aunt Ruth'?" + +"Oh! Oh-h!" exclaimed Jamie, in plain delight, while Jimmy, under John +Pendleton's steady gaze just managed to save the situation by not +blurting out HIS surprise and pleasure. Naturally, too, just then, +blushing Mrs. Carew became the center of every one's interest, and the +danger point was passed. Only Jimmy heard John Pendleton say low in +his ear, a bit later: + +"So you see, you young rascal, I'm not going to lose you, after all. +We shall BOTH have you now." + +Exclamations and congratulations were still at their height, when +Jamie, a new light in his eyes, turned without warning to Sadie Dean. + +"Sadie, I'm going to tell them now," he declared triumphantly. Then, +with the bright color in Sadie's face telling the tender story even +before Jamie's eager lips could frame the words, more congratulations +and exclamations were in order, and everybody was laughing and shaking +hands with everybody else. + +Jimmy, however, very soon began to eye them all aggrievedly, +longingly. + +"This is all very well for YOU," he complained then. "You each have +each other. But where do I come in? I can just tell you, though, that +if only a certain young lady I know were here, _I_ should have +something to tell YOU, perhaps." + +"Just a minute, Jimmy," interposed John Pendleton. "Let's play I was +Aladdin, and let me rub the lamp. Mrs. Carew, have I your permission +to ring for Mary?" + +"Why, y-yes, certainly," murmured that lady, in a puzzled surprise +that found its duplicate on the faces of the others. + +A few moments later Mary stood in the doorway. + +"Did I hear Miss Pollyanna come in a short time ago?" asked John +Pendleton. + +"Yes, sir. She is here." + +"Won't you ask her to come down, please." + +"Pollyanna here!" exclaimed an amazed chorus, as Mary disappeared. +Jimmy turned very white, then very red. + +"Yes. I sent a note to her yesterday by my housekeeper. I took the +liberty of asking her down for a few days to see you, Mrs. Carew. I +thought the little girl needed a rest and a holiday; and my +housekeeper has instructions to remain and care for Mrs. Chilton. I +also wrote a note to Mrs. Chilton herself," he added, turning suddenly +to Jimmy, with unmistakable meaning in his eyes. "And I thought after +she read what I said, that she'd let Pollyanna come. It seems she did, +for--here she is." + +And there she was in the doorway, blushing, starry-eyed, yet withal +just a bit shy and questioning. + +"Pollyanna, dearest!" It was Jimmy who sprang forward to meet her, and +who, without one minute's hesitation, took her in his arms and kissed +her. + +"Oh, Jimmy, before all these people!" breathed Pollyanna in +embarrassed protest. + +"Pooh! I should have kissed you then, Pollyanna, if you'd been +straight in the middle of--of Washington Street itself," vowed Jimmy. +"For that matter, look at--'all these people' and see for yourself if +you need to worry about them." + +And Pollyanna looked; and she saw: + +Over by one window, backs carefully turned, Jamie and Sadie Dean; over +by another window, backs also carefully turned, Mrs. Carew and John +Pendleton. + +Pollyanna smiled--so adorably that Jimmy kissed her again. + +"Oh, Jimmy, isn't it all beautiful and wonderful?" she murmured +softly. "And Aunt Polly--she knows everything now; and it's all right. +I think it would have been all right, anyway. She was beginning to +feel so bad--for me. Now she's so glad. And I am, too. Why, Jimmy, I'm +glad, GLAD, _GLAD_ for--everything, now!" + +[Illustration: "'I'm glad, GLAD, _GLAD_ for--everything now!'"] + +Jimmy caught his breath with a joy that hurt. + +"God grant, little girl, that always it may be so--with you," he +choked unsteadily, his arms holding her close. + +"I'm sure it will," sighed Pollyanna, with shining eyes of confidence. + + +THE END + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Pollyanna Grows Up, by Eleanor H. 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