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hard toā€”to do it, even in red gingham, because Iā€”I wanted him, so; and I couldnā€™t help feeling I OUGHT to have him, specially as mother and the rest have God and all the angels, while I didnā€™t have anybody but the Ladiesā€™ Aid. But now Iā€™m sure itā€™ll be easier because Iā€™ve got you, Aunt Polly. Iā€™m so glad Iā€™ve got you!ā€

Nancyā€™s aching sympathy for the poor little forlornness beside her turned suddenly into shocked terror.

ā€œOh, butā€”but youā€™ve made an awful mistake, d-dear,ā€ she faltered. ā€œIā€™m only Nancy. I ainā€™t your Aunt Polly, at all!ā€

ā€œYouā€”you ARENā€™T? stammered the little girl, in plain dismay.

ā€œNo. Iā€™m only Nancy. I never thought of your takinā€™ me for her. Weā€”we ainā€™t a bit alike we ainā€™t, we ainā€™t!ā€

Timothy chuckled softly; but Nancy was too disturbed to answer the merry flash from his eyes.

ā€œBut who ARE you?ā€ questioned Pollyanna. ā€œYou donā€™t look a bit like a Ladiesā€™ Aider!ā€

Timothy laughed outright this time.

ā€œIā€™m Nancy, the hired girl. I do all the work except the washinā€™ anā€™ hard ironinā€™. Misā€™ Durgin does that.ā€

ā€œBut there IS an Aunt Polly?ā€ demanded the child, anxiously.

ā€œYou bet your life there is,ā€ cut in Timothy.

Pollyanna relaxed visibly.

ā€œOh, thatā€™s all right, then.ā€ There was a momentā€™s silence, then she went on brightly: ā€œAnd do you know? Iā€™m glad, after all, that she didnā€™t come to meet me; because now Iā€™ve got HER still coming, and Iā€™ve got you besides.ā€

Nancy flushed. Timothy turned to her with a quizzical smile.

ā€œI call that a pretty slick compliment,ā€ he said. ā€œWhy donā€™t you thank the little lady?ā€

ā€œIā€”I was thinkinā€™ aboutā€”Miss Polly,ā€ faltered Nancy.

Pollyanna sighed contentedly.

ā€œI was, too. Iā€™m so interested in her. You know sheā€™s all the aunt Iā€™ve got, and I didnā€™t know I had her for ever so long. Then father told me. He said she lived in a lovely great big house ā€˜way on top of a hill.ā€

ā€œShe does. You can see it now,ā€ said Nancy.

Itā€™s that big white one with the green blinds, ā€˜way ahead.ā€

ā€œOh, how pretty!ā€”and what a lot of trees and grass all around it! I never saw such a lot of green grass, seems so, all at once. Is my Aunt Polly rich, Nancy?ā€

ā€œYes, Miss.ā€

ā€œIā€™m so glad. It must be perfectly lovely to have lots of money. I never knew any one that did have, only the Whitesā€”theyā€™re some rich. They have carpets in every room and ice-cream Sundays. Does Aunt Polly have ice-cream Sundays?ā€

Nancy shook her head. Her lips twitched. She threw a merry look into Timothyā€™s eyes.

ā€œNo, Miss. Your aunt donā€™t like ice-cream, I guess; leastways I never saw it on her table.ā€

Pollyannaā€™s face fell.

ā€œOh, doesnā€™t she? Iā€™m so sorry! I donā€™t see how she can help liking ice-cream. Butā€”anyhow, I can be kinder glad about that, ā€˜cause the ice-cream you donā€™t eat canā€™t make your stomach ache like Mrs. Whiteā€™s didā€”that is, I ate hers, you know, lots of it. Maybe Aunt Polly has got the carpets, though.ā€

ā€œYes, sheā€™s got the carpets.ā€

ā€œIn every room?ā€

ā€œWell, in almost every room,ā€ answered Nancy, frowning suddenly at the thought of that bare little attic room where there was no carpet.

ā€œOh, Iā€™m so glad,ā€ exulted Pollyanna. ā€œI love carpets. We didnā€™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 lionā€”not together, you knowā€”the lambs and the lion. Oh, of course the Bible says they will sometime, but they havenā€™t yetā€”that is, I mean Mrs. Whiteā€™s havenā€™t. Donā€™t you just love pictures?ā€

ā€œIā€”I donā€™t know,ā€ answered Nancy in a half-stifled voice.

ā€œI do. We didnā€™t have any pictures. They donā€™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. Glassā€”it broke, you know. And I cried. But Iā€™m glad now we didnā€™t have any of those nice things, ā€˜cause I shall like Aunt Pollyā€™s all the betterā€”not being used to ā€˜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 isnā€™t this a perfectly beautiful house?ā€ 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:

ā€œDonā€™t you never say nothinā€™ ter me again about leavinā€™, Timothy Durgin. You couldnā€™t HIRE me ter leave!ā€

ā€œLeave! I should say not,ā€ grinned the youth.

You couldnā€™t drag me away. Itā€™ll be more fun here now, with that kid ā€˜round, than movinā€™-picture shows, every day!ā€

ā€œFun!ā€”fun!ā€ repeated Nancy, indignantly, ā€œI guess itā€™ll be somethinā€™ more than fun for that blessed childā€”when them two tries ter live tergether; and I guess sheā€™ll be a-needinā€™ some rock ter fly to for refuge. Well, Iā€™m a-goinā€™ ter be that rock, Timothy; I am, I am!ā€ 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 ā€œdutyā€ written large on every coldly extended finger.

ā€œHow do you do, Pollyanna? Iā€”ā€ She had no chance to say more. Pollyanna, had fairly flown across the room and flung herself into her auntā€™s scandalized, unyielding lap.

ā€œOh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I donā€™t know how to be glad enough that you let me come to live with you,ā€ she was sobbing. ā€œYou donā€™t know how perfectly lovely it is to have you and Nancy and all this after youā€™ve had just the Ladiesā€™ Aid!ā€

ā€œVery likelyā€”though Iā€™ve not had the pleasure of the Ladiesā€™ Aidā€™s acquaintance,ā€ rejoined Miss Polly, stiffly, trying to unclasp the small, clinging fingers, and turning frowning eyes on Nancy in the doorway. ā€œNancy, that will do. You may go. Pollyanna, be good enough, please, to stand erect in a proper manner. I donā€™t know yet what you look like.ā€

Pollyanna drew back at once, laughing a little hysterically.

ā€œNo, I suppose you donā€™t; but you see Iā€™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 saidā€”ā€

ā€œYes; well, never mind now what your father said,ā€ interrupted Miss Polly, crisply. ā€œYou had a trunk, I presume?ā€

ā€œOh, yes, indeed, Aunt Polly. Iā€™ve got a beautiful trunk that the Ladiesā€™ Aid gave me. I havenā€™t got so very much in itā€”of my own, I mean. The barrels havenā€™t had many clothes for little girls in them lately; but there were all fatherā€™s books, and Mrs. White said she thought I ought to have those. You see, fatherā€”ā€

ā€œPollyanna,ā€ interrupted her aunt again, sharply, ā€œthere is one thing that might just as well be understood right away at once; and that is, I do not care to have you keep talking of your father to me.ā€

The little girl drew in her breath tremulously.

ā€œWhy, Aunt Polly, youā€”you meanā€”ā€ She hesitated, and her aunt filled the pause.

ā€œWe will go up-stairs to your room. Your trunk is already there, I presume. I told Timothy to take it upā€”if you had one. You may follow me, Pollyanna.ā€

Without speaking, Pollyanna turned and followed her aunt from the room. Her eyes were brimming with tears, but her chin was bravely high.

ā€œAfter all, Iā€”I reckon Iā€™m glad she doesnā€™t want me to talk about father,ā€ Pollyanna was thinking. ā€œItā€™ll be easier, maybeā€”if I donā€™t talk about him. Probably, anyhow, that is why she told me not to talk about him.ā€ And Pollyanna, convinced anew of her auntā€™s ā€œkindness,ā€ blinked off the tears and looked eagerly about her.

She was on the stairway now. just ahead, her auntā€™s black silk skirt rustled luxuriously. Behind her an open door allowed a glimpse of soft-tinted rugs and satin-covered chairs. Beneath her feet a marvellous carpet was like green moss to the tread. On every side the gilt of picture frames or the glint of sunlight through the filmy mesh of lace curtains flashed in her eyes.

ā€œOh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly,ā€ breathed the little girl, rapturously; ā€œwhat a perfectly lovely, lovely house! How awfully glad you must be youā€™re so rich!ā€

ā€œPollyANNA!ā€ ejaculated her aunt, turning sharply about as she reached the head of the stairs. ā€œIā€™m surprised at youā€”making a speech like that to me!ā€

ā€œWhy, Aunt Polly, ARENā€™T you?ā€ queried Pollyanna, in frank wonder.

ā€œCertainly not, Pollyanna. I hope I could not so far forget myself as to be sinfully proud of any gift the Lord has seen fit to bestow upon me,ā€ declared the lady; ā€œcertainly not, of RICHES!ā€

Miss Polly turned and walked down the hall toward the attic stairway door. She was glad, now, that she had put the child in the attic room. Her idea at first had been to get her niece as far away as possible from herself, and at the same time place her where her childish heedlessness would not destroy valuable furnishings. Nowā€”with this evident strain of vanity showing thus earlyā€”it was all the more fortunate that the room planned for her was plain and sensible, thought Miss Polly.

Eagerly Pollyannaā€™s small feet pattered behind her aunt. Still more eagerly her big blue eyes tried to look in all directions at once, that no thing of beauty or interest in this wonderful house might be passed unseen. Most eagerly of all her mind turned to the wondrously exciting problem about to be solved: behind which of all these fascinating doors was waiting now her roomā€”the dear, beautiful room full of curtains, rugs, and pictures, that was to be her very own? Then, abruptly, her aunt opened a door and ascended another stairway.

There was little to be seen here. A bare wall rose on either side. At the top of the stairs, wide reaches of shadowy space led to far corners where the roof came almost down to the floor, and where were stacked innumerable trunks and boxes. It was hot and stifling, too. Unconsciously Pollyanna lifted her head higherā€”it seemed so hard to breathe. Then she saw that her aunt had thrown open a door at the right.

ā€œThere, Pollyanna, here is your room, and your trunk is here, I see. Have you your key?ā€

Pollyanna nodded dumbly. Her eyes were a little wide and frightened.

Her aunt frowned.

ā€œWhen I ask a question, Pollyanna, I prefer that you should answer aloud not merely with your head.ā€

ā€œYes, Aunt Polly.ā€

ā€œThank you; that is better. I believe you have everything that you need here,ā€ she added, glancing at the well-filled towel rack and water pitcher. ā€œI will send Nancy up to help you unpack. Supper is at six oā€™clock,ā€ she finished, as she left the room and swept down-stairs.

For a moment after she had gone Pollyanna stood quite still, looking after her. Then she turned her wide eyes to the bare wall, the bare floor, the bare windows. She turned them last to the little trunk that had stood not so long before in her own little room in the far-away Western home. The next moment she

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