|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 85
"There, there, dear, just take this," she soothed; "and by and by
we'll be more rested, and we'll see what can be done then. Things
aren't half as bad as they seem, dear, lots of times, you know."
Obediently Pollyanna took the medicine, and sipped the water from
the glass in Miss Hunt's hand.
"I know; that sounds like things father used to say," faltered
Pollyanna, blinking off the tears. "He said there was always
something about everything that might be worse; but I reckon he'd
never just heard he couldn't ever walk again. I don't see how
there CAN be anything about that, that could be worse--do you?"
Miss Hunt did not reply. She could not trust herself to speak
just then.
CHAPTER XXVII. TWO VISITS
It was Nancy who was sent to tell Mr. John Pendleton of Dr.
Mead's verdict. Miss Polly had remembered her promise to let him
have direct information from the house. To go herself, or to
write a letter, she felt to be almost equally out of the
question. It occurred to her then to send Nancy.
There had been a time when Nancy would have rejoiced greatly at
this extraordinary opportunity to see something of the House of
Mystery and its master. But to-day her heart was too heavy to,
rejoice at anything. She scarcely even looked about her at all,
indeed, during the few minutes, she waited for Mr. John Pendleton
to appear.
"I'm Nancy, sir," she said respectfully, in response to the
surprised questioning of his eyes, when he came into the room.
"Miss Harrington sent me to tell you about--Miss Pollyanna."
"Well?"
In spite of the curt terseness of the word, Nancy quite
understood the anxiety that lay behind that short "well?"
"It ain't well, Mr. Pendleton," she choked.
"You don't mean--" He paused, and she bowed her head miserably.
"Yes, sir. He says--she can't walk again--never."
For a moment there was absolute silence in the room; then the man
spoke, in a voice shaken with emotion.
"Poor--little--girl! Poor--little--girl!"
Nancy glanced at him, but dropped her eyes at once. She had not
supposed that sour, cross, stern John Pendleton could look like
that. In a moment he spoke again, still in the low, unsteady
voice.
"It seems cruel--never to dance in the sunshine again! My little
prism girl!"
There was another silence; then, abruptly, the man asked:
"She herself doesn't know yet--of course--does she?"
"But she does, sir." sobbed Nancy, "an' that's what makes it all
the harder. She found out--drat that cat! I begs yer pardon,"
apologized the girl, hurriedly. "It's only that the cat pushed
open the door an' Miss Pollyanna overheard 'em talkin'. She found
out--that way."
"Poor--little--girl!" sighed the man again.
"Yes, sir. You'd say so, sir, if you could see her," choked
Nancy. "I hain't seen her but twice since she knew about it, an'
it done me up both times. Ye see it's all so fresh an' new to
her, an' she keeps thinkin' all the time of new things she can't
do--NOW. It worries her, too, 'cause she can't seem ter be
glad--maybe you don't know about her game, though," broke off
Nancy, apologetically.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|