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Page 55
"Pollyanna!" gasped a stifled but shocked voice from a veil of
hair. "I--I'm sure I don't know why I'm letting you do this silly
thing."
"Why, Aunt Polly, I should think you'd be glad to have folks like
to look at you! Don't you like to look at pretty things? I'm ever
so much happier when I look at pretty folks, 'cause when I look
at the other kind I'm so sorry for them."
"But--but--"
"And I just love to do folks' hair," purred Pollyanna,
contentedly. "I did quite a lot of the Ladies' Aiders'--but there
wasn't any of them so nice as yours. Mrs. White's was pretty
nice, though, and she looked just lovely one day when I dressed
her up in--Oh, Aunt Polly, I've just happened to think of
something! But it's a secret, and I sha'n't tell. Now your hair
is almost done, and pretty quick I'm going to leave you just a
minute; and you must promise--promise--PROMISE not to stir nor
peek, even, till I come back. Now remember!" she finished, as she
ran from the room.
Aloud Miss Polly said nothing. To herself she said that of course
she should at once undo the absurd work of her niece's fingers,
and put her hair up properly again. As for "peeking" just as if
she cared how--
At that moment--unaccountably--Miss Polly caught a glimpse of
herself in the mirror of the dressing table. And what she saw
sent such a flush of rosy color to her cheeks that--she only
flushed the more at the sight.
She saw a face--not young, it is true--but just now alight with
excitement and surprise. The cheeks were a pretty pink. The eyes
sparkled. The hair, dark, and still damp from the outdoor air,
lay in loose waves about the forehead and curved back over the
ears in wonderfully becoming lines, with softening little curls
here and there.
So amazed and so absorbed was Miss Polly with what she saw in the
glass that she quite forgot her determination to do over her
hair, until she heard Pollyanna enter the room again. Before she
could move, then, she felt a folded something slipped across her
eyes and tied in the back.
"Pollyanna, Pollyanna! What are you doing?" she cried.
Pollyanna chuckled.
"That's just what I don't want you to know, Aunt Polly, and I was
afraid you WOULD peek, so I tied on the handkerchief. Now sit
still. It won't take but just a minute, then I'll let you see."
"But, Pollyanna," began Miss Polly, struggling blindly to her
feet, "you must take this off! You--child, child! what ARE you
doing?" she gasped, as she felt a soft something slipped about
her shoulders.
Pollyanna only chuckled the more gleefully. With trembling
fingers she was draping about her aunt's shoulders the fleecy
folds of a beautiful lace shawl, yellowed from long years of
packing away, and fragrant with lavender. Pollyanna had found the
shawl the week before when Nancy had been regulating the attic;
and it had occurred to her to-day that there was no reason why
her aunt, as well as Mrs. White of her Western home, should not
be "dressed up."
Her task completed, Pollyanna surveyed her work with eyes that
approved, but that saw yet one touch wanting. Promptly,
therefore, she pulled her aunt toward the sun parlor where she
could see a belated red rose blooming on the trellis within reach
of her hand.
"Pollyanna, what are you doing? Where are you taking me to?"
recoiled Aunt Polly, vainly trying to hold herself back.
"Pollyanna, I shall not--"
"It's just to the sun parlor--only a minute! I'll have you ready
now quicker'n no time," panted Pollyanna, reaching for the rose
and thrusting it into the soft hair above Miss Polly's left ear.
"There!" she exulted, untying the knot of the handkerchief and
flinging the bit of linen far from her. "Oh, Aunt Polly, now I
reckon you'll be glad I dressed you up!"
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