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Page 11
"Oh, I'm so glad," exulted Pollyanna. "I love carpets. We didn't
have any, only two little rugs that came in a missionary barrel,
and one of those had ink spots on it. Mrs. White had pictures,
too, perfectly beautiful ones of roses and little girls kneeling
and a kitty and some lambs and a lion--not together, you
know--the lambs and the lion. Oh, of course the Bible says they
will sometime, but they haven't yet--that is, I mean Mrs. White's
haven't. Don't you just love pictures?"
"I--I don't know," answered Nancy in a half-stifled voice.
"I do. We didn't have any pictures. They don't come in the
barrels much, you know. There did two come once, though. But one
was so good father sold it to get money to buy me some shoes
with; and the other was so bad it fell to pieces just as soon as
we hung it up. Glass--it broke, you know. And I cried. But I'm
glad now we didn't have any of those nice things, 'cause I shall
like Aunt Polly's all the better--not being used to 'em, you see.
Just as it is when the PRETTY hair-ribbons come in the barrels
after a lot of faded-out brown ones. My! but isn't this a
perfectly beautiful house?" she broke off fervently, as they
turned into the wide driveway.
It was when Timothy was unloading the trunk that Nancy found an
opportunity to mutter low in his ear:
"Don't you never say nothin' ter me again about leavin', Timothy
Durgin. You couldn't HIRE me ter leave!"
"Leave! I should say not," grinned the youth.
"You couldn't drag me away. It'll be more fun here now, with that
kid 'round, than movin'-picture shows, every day!"
"Fun!--fun!" repeated Nancy, indignantly, "I guess it'll be
somethin' more than fun for that blessed child--when them two
tries ter live tergether; and I guess she'll be a-needin' some
rock ter fly to for refuge. Well, I'm a-goin' ter be that rock,
Timothy; I am, I am!" she vowed, as she turned and led Pollyanna
up the broad steps.
CHAPTER IV. THE LITTLE ATTIC ROOM
Miss Polly Harrington did not rise to meet her niece. She looked
up from her book, it is true, as Nancy and the little girl
appeared in the sitting-room doorway, and she held out a hand
with "duty" written large on every coldly extended finger.
"How do you do, Pollyanna? I--" She had no chance to say more.
Pollyanna, had fairly flown across the room and flung herself
into her aunt's scandalized, unyielding lap.
"Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I don't know how to be glad enough
that you let me come to live with you," she was sobbing. "You
don't know how perfectly lovely it is to have you and Nancy and
all this after you've had just the Ladies' Aid!"
"Very likely--though I've not had the pleasure of the Ladies'
Aid's acquaintance," rejoined Miss Polly, stiffly, trying to
unclasp the small, clinging fingers, and turning frowning eyes on
Nancy in the doorway. "Nancy, that will do. You may go.
Pollyanna, be good enough, please, to stand erect in a proper
manner. I don't know yet what you look like."
Pollyanna drew back at once, laughing a little hysterically.
"No, I suppose you don't; but you see I'm not very much to took
at, anyway, on account of the freckles. Oh, and I ought to
explain about the red gingham and the black velvet basque with
white spots on the elbows. I told Nancy how father said--"
"Yes; well, never mind now what your father said," interrupted
Miss Polly, crisply. "You had a trunk, I presume?"
"Oh, yes, indeed, Aunt Polly. I've got a beautiful trunk that the
Ladies' Aid gave me. I haven't got so very much in it--of my own,
I mean. The barrels haven't had many clothes for little girls in
them lately; but there were all father's books, and Mrs. White
said she thought I ought to have those. You see, father--"
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