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Page 46
CHAPTER XIV. JUST A MATTER OF JELLY
Pollyanna was a little late for supper on the night of the
accident to John Pendleton; but, as it happened, she escaped
without reproof.
Nancy met her at the door.
"Well, if I ain't glad ter be settin' my two eyes on you," she
sighed in obvious relief. "It's half-past six!"
"I know it," admitted Pollyanna anxiously; "but I'm not to
blame--truly I'm not. And I don't think even Aunt Polly will say
I am, either."
"She won't have the chance," retorted Nancy, with huge
satisfaction. "She's gone."
"Gone!" gasped Pollyanna. "You don't mean that I've driven her
away?" Through Pollyanna's mind at the moment trooped remorseful
memories of the morning with its unwanted boy, cat, and dog, and
its unwelcome "glad" and forbidden "father" that would spring to
her forgetful little tongue. Oh, I DIDN'T drive her away?"
"Not much you did," scoffed Nancy. "Her cousin died suddenly
down to Boston, and she had ter go. She had one o' them yeller
telegram letters after you went away this afternoon, and she
won't be back for three days. Now I guess we're glad all right.
We'll be keepin' house tergether, jest you and me, all that time.
We will, we will!"
Pollyanna looked shocked.
"Glad! Oh, Nancy, when it's a funeral?"
"Oh, but 'twa'n't the funeral I was glad for, Miss Pollyanna. It
was--" Nancy stopped abruptly. A shrewd twinkle came into her
eyes. "Why, Miss Pollyanna, as if it wa'n't yerself that was
teachin' me ter play the game," she reproached her gravely.
Pollyanna puckered her forehead into a troubled frown.
"I can't help it, Nancy," she argued with a shake of her head.
"It must be that there are some things that 'tisn't right to play
the game on--and I'm sure funerals is one of them. There's
nothing in a funeral to be glad about."
Nancy chuckled.
"We can be glad 'tain't our'n," she observed demurely. But
Pollyanna did not hear. She had begun to tell of the accident;
and in a moment Nancy, open-mouthed, was listening.
At the appointed place the next afternoon, Pollyanna met Jimmy
Bean according to agreement. As was to be expected, of course,
Jimmy showed keen disappointment that the Ladies' Aid preferred a
little India boy to himself.
"Well, maybe 'tis natural," he sighed. "Of course things you
don't know about are always nicer'n things you do, same as the
pertater on 'tother side of the plate is always the biggest. But
I wish I looked that way ter somebody 'way off. Wouldn't it be
jest great, now, if only somebody over in India wanted ME?"
Pollyanna clapped her hands.
"Why, of course! That's the very thing, Jimmy! I'll write to my
Ladies' Aiders about you. They aren't over in India; they're only
out West--but that's awful far away, just the same. I reckon
you'd think so if you'd come all the way here as I did!"
Jimmy's face brightened.
"Do you think they would--truly--take me?" he asked.
"Of course they would! Don't they take little boys in India to
bring up? Well, they can just play you are the little India boy
this time. I reckon you're far enough away to make a report, all
right. You wait. I'll write 'em. I'll write Mrs. White. No, I'll
write Mrs. Jones. Mrs. White has got the most money, but Mrs.
Jones gives the most--which is kind of funny, isn't it?--when you
think of it. But I reckon some of the Aiders will take you."
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