Pollyanna - Eleanor Hodgman Porter (e ink ebook reader txt) đ
- Author: Eleanor Hodgman Porter
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Pollyanna nodded her head wisely. Her eyes glowed with sympathetic understanding.
âI know. It takes a womanâs hand and heart, or a childâs presence to make a home,â she said.
âEh?â The doctor wheeled about abruptly.
âMr. Pendleton told me,â nodded Pollyanna, again; âabout the womanâs hand and heart, or the childâs presence, you know. Why donât you get a womanâs hand and heart, Dr. Chilton? Or maybe youâd take Jimmy Beanâif Mr. Pendleton doesnât want him.â
Dr. Chilton laughed a little constrainedly.
âSo Mr. Pendleton says it takes a womanâs hand and heart to make a home, does he?â he asked evasively.
âYes. He says his is just a house, too. Why donât you, Dr. Chilton?â
âWhy donât Iâwhat?â The doctor had turned back to his desk.
âGet a womanâs hand and heart. Ohâand I forgot.â Pollyannaâs face showed suddenly a painful color. âI suppose I ought to tell you. It wasnât Aunt Polly that Mr. Pendleton loved long ago; and so weâwe arenât going there to live. You see, I told you it wasâbut I made a mistake. I hope YOU didnât tell any one,â she finished anxiously.
âNoâI didnât tell any one, Pollyanna,â replied the doctor, a little queerly.
âOh, thatâs all right, then,â sighed Pollyanna in relief. âYou see youâre the only one I told, and I thought Mr. Pendleton looked sort of funny when I said Iâd told YOU.â
âDid he?â The doctorâs lips twitched.
âYes. And of course he wouldnât want many people to know itâwhen âtwasnât true. But why donât you get a womanâs hand and heart, Dr. Chilton?â
There was a momentâs silence; then very gravely the doctor said:
âTheyâre not always to be hadâfor the asking, little girl.â
Pollyanna frowned thoughtfully.
âBut I should think you could get âem,â she argued. The flattering emphasis was unmistakable.
âThank you,â laughed the doctor, with uplifted eyebrows. Then, gravely again: âIâm afraid some of your older sisters would not be quite soâconfident. At least, theyâthey havenât shown themselves to be soâobliging,â he observed.
Pollyanna frowned again. Then her eyes widened in surprise.
âWhy, Dr. Chilton, you donât meanâyou didnât try to get somebodyâs hand and heart once, like Mr. Pendleton, andâand couldnât, did you?â
The doctor got to his feet a little abruptly.
âThere, there, Pollyanna, never mind about that now. Donât let other peopleâs troubles worry your little head. Suppose you run back now to Mrs. Snow. Iâve written down the name of the medicine, and the directions how she is to take it. Was there anything else?â
Pollyanna shook her head.
âNo, Sir; thank you, Sir,â she murmured soberly, as she turned toward the door. From the little hallway she called back, her face suddenly alight: âAnyhow, Iâm glad âtwasnât my motherâs hand and heart that you wanted and couldnât get, Dr. Chilton. Good-by!â
It was on the last day of October that the accident occurred. Pollyanna, hurrying home from school, crossed the road at an apparently safe distance in front of a swiftly approaching motor car.
Just what happened, no one could seem to tell afterward. Neither was there any one found who could tell why it happened or who was to blame that it did happen. Pollyanna, however, at five oâclock, was borne, limp and unconscious, into the little room that was so dear to her. There, by a white-faced Aunt Polly and a weeping Nancy she was undressed tenderly and put to bed, while from the village, hastily summoned by telephone, Dr. Warren was hurrying as fast as another motor car could bring him.
âAnd ye didnât need ter moreân look at her auntâs face,â Nancy was sobbing to Old Tom in the garden, after the doctor had arrived and was closeted in the hushed room; âye didnât need ter moreân look at her auntâs face ter see that âtwaânât no duty that was eatinâ her. Yer hands donât shake, and yer eyes donât look as if ye was tryinâ ter hold back the Angel oâ Death himself, when youâre jest doinâ yer DUTY, Mr. Tom they donât, they donât!â
âIs she hurtâbad?â The old manâs voice shook.
âThere ainât no tellinâ,â sobbed Nancy. âShe lay back that white anâ still she might easy be dead; but Miss Polly said she waânât deadâanâ Miss Polly had oughter know, if any one wouldâshe kept up such a listeninâ anâ a feelinâ for her heartbeats anâ her breath!â
âCouldnât ye tell anythinâ what it done to her?âthatâthatââ Old Tomâs face worked convulsively.
Nancyâs lips relaxed a little.
âI wish ye WOULD call it somethinâ, Mr. Tom anâ somethinâ good anâ strong, too. Drat it! Ter think of its runninâ down our little girl! I always hated the evil-smellinâ things, anyhowâI did, I did!â
âBut where is she hurt?â
âI donât know, I donât know,â moaned Nancy. Thereâs a little cut on her blessed head, but âtainât badâthat ainâtâMiss Polly says. She says sheâs afraid itâs infernally sheâs hurt.â
A faint flicker came into Old Tomâs eyes.
âI guess you mean internally, Nancy,â he said dryly. âSheâs hurt infernally, all rightâplague take that autymobile!âbut I donât guess Miss Pollyâd be usinâ that word, all the same.â
âEh? Well, I donât know, I donât know,â moaned Nancy, with a shake of her head as she turned away. âSeems as if I jest couldnât stand it till that doctor gits out oâ there. I wish I had a washinâ ter doâthe biggest washinâ I ever see, I do, I do!â she wailed, wringing her hands helplessly.
Even after the doctor was gone, however, there seemed to be little that Nancy could tell Mr. Tom. There appeared to be no bones broken, and the cut was of slight consequence; but the doctor had looked very grave, had shaken his head slowly, and had said that time alone could tell. After he had gone, Miss Polly had shown a face even whiter and more drawn looking than before. The patient had not fully recovered consciousness, but at present she seemed to be resting as comfortably as could be expected. A trained nurse had been sent for, and would come that night. That was all. And Nancy turned sobbingly, and went back to her kitchen.
It was sometime during the next forenoon that Pollyanna opened conscious eyes and realized where she was.
âWhy, Aunt Polly, whatâs the matter? Isnât it daytime? Why donât I get up?â she cried. âWhy, Aunt Polly, I canât get up,â she moaned, falling back on the pillow, after an ineffectual attempt to lift herself.
âNo, dear, I wouldnât tryâjust yet,â soothed her aunt quickly, but very quietly.
âBut what is the matter? Why canât I get up?â
Miss Pollyâs eyes asked an agonized question of the white-capped young woman standing in the window, out of the range of Pollyannaâs eyes.
The young woman nodded.
âTell her,â the lips said.
Miss Polly cleared her throat, and tried to swallow the lump that would scarcely let her speak.
âYou were hurt, dear, by the automobile last night. But never mind that now. Auntie wants you to rest and go to sleep again.â
âHurt? Oh, yes; IâI ran.â Pollyannaâs eyes were dazed. She lifted her hand to her forehead. âWhy, itâsâdone up, and itâhurts!â
âYes, dear; but never mind. Justâjust rest.â
âBut, Aunt Polly, I feel so funny, and so bad! My legs feel soâso queerâonly they donât FEELâat all!â
With an imploring look into the nurseâs face, Miss Polly struggled to her feet, and turned away. The nurse came forward quickly.
âSuppose you let me talk to you now,â she began cheerily. âIâm sure I think itâs high time we were getting acquainted, and Iâm going to introduce myself. I am Miss Hunt, and Iâve come to help your aunt take care of you. And the very first thing Iâm going to do is to ask you to swallow these little white pills for me.â
Pollyannaâs eyes grew a bit wild.
âBut I donât want to be taken care ofâthat is, not for long! I want to get up. You know I go to school. Canât I go to school to-morrow?â
From the window where Aunt Polly stood now there came a half-stifled cry.
âTo-morrow?â smiled the nurse, brightly.
Well, I may not let you out quite so soon as that, Miss Pollyanna. But just swallow these little pills for me, please, and weâll see what THEYâLL do.â
âAll right,â agreed Pollyanna, somewhat doubtfully; âbut I MUST go to school day after to-morrowâthere are examinations then, you know.â
She spoke again, a minute later. She spoke of school, and of the automobile, and of how her head ached; but very soon her voice trailed into silence under the blessed influence of the little white pills she had swallowed.
CHAPTER XXIV. JOHN PENDLETON
Pollyanna did not go to school âto-morrow,â nor the âday after to-morrow.â Pollyanna, however, did not realize this, except momentarily when a brief period of full consciousness sent insistent questions to her lips. Pollyanna did not realize anything, in fact, very clearly until a week had passed; then the fever subsided, the pain lessened somewhat, and her mind awoke to full consciousness. She had then to be told all over again what had occurred.
âAnd so itâs hurt that I am, and not sick,â she sighed at last. âWell, Iâm glad of that.â
âG-glad, Pollyanna?â asked her aunt, who was sitting by the bed.
âYes. Iâd so much rather have broken legs like Mr. Pendletonâs than life-long-invalids like Mrs. Snow, you know. Broken legs get well, and lifelong-invalids donât.â
Miss Pollyâwho had said nothing whatever about broken legsâgot suddenly to her feet and walked to the little dressing table across the room. She was picking up one object after another now, and putting each down, in an aimless fashion quite unlike her usual decisiveness. Her face was not aimless-looking at all, however; it was white and drawn.
On the bed Pollyanna lay blinking at the dancing band of colors on the ceiling, which came from one of the prisms in the window.
âIâm glad it isnât smallpox that ails me, too,â she murmured contentedly. âThat would be worse than freckles. And Iâm glad âtisnât whooping coughâIâve had that, and itâs horridâand Iâm glad âtisnât appendicitis nor measles, âcause theyâre catchingâmeasles are, I meanâand they wouldnât let you stay here.â
âYou seem toâto be glad for a good many things, my dear,â faltered Aunt Polly, putting her hand to her throat as if her collar bound.
Pollyanna laughed softly.
âI am. Iâve been thinking of âemâlots of âemâall the time Iâve been looking up at that rainbow. I love rainbows. Iâm so glad Mr. Pendleton gave me those prisms! Iâm glad of some things I havenât said yet. I donât know but Iâm âmost glad I was hurt.â
âPollyanna!â
Pollyanna laughed softly again. She turned luminous eyes on her aunt. âWell, you see, since I have been hurt, youâve called me âdearâ lots of timesâand you didnât before. I love to be called âdearââby folks that belong to you, I mean. Some of the Ladiesâ Aiders did call me that; and of course that was pretty nice, but not so nice as if they had belonged to me, like you do. Oh, Aunt Polly, Iâm so glad you belong to me!â
Aunt Polly did not answer. Her hand was at her throat again. Her eyes were full of tears. She had turned away and was hurrying from the room through the door by which the nurse had just entered.
It was that afternoon that
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