Поллианна / Pollyanna

There was a long pause.

“Pollyanna; I see. You can’t leave her – now,” he said.

“Oh, but you don’t know about the rest of it,” she reminded him. “There’s the very gladdest thing you CAN do. You said only a – a woman’s hand and heart or a child’s presence could make a home. And I can get it for you – a child’s presence; – not me, you know, but another one.”

“As if I would have any but you![118]” resented an indignant voice.

“But you’re so kind and good! Please take Jimmy Bean!

“Take – WHO?”

“Jimmy Bean. He’s the ‘child’s presence,’ you know; and he’ll be so glad to be it.”

“Will he? Well, I won’t,” ejaculated the man. “Pollyanna, this is sheer nonsense!”

“You don’t mean – you won’t take him?”

“I certainly do mean just that.”

“Maybe you think a nice live little boy wouldn’t be better than that old dead skeleton you keep somewhere; but I think it would![119]”

“SKELETON?”

“Yes. Nancy said you had one in your closet.”

Suddenly he laughed.

“Pollyanna, I suspect you are right. Please tell me a little more about this nice little boy.” And Pollyanna told him.

“I’m so glad, and I’m sure you’ll like him,” sighed Pollyanna. “I do so want Jimmy Bean to have a home – and folks that care, you know.[120]”

Chapter XXII. An Accident

At Mrs. Snow’s request, Pollyanna went one day to Dr. Chilton’s office to get some medicine.

“This IS your home, isn’t it?” she said, looking interestedly about her.

The doctor smiled a little sadly.

“Yes, it is,” he answered, “but it’s a pretty poor apology for a home, Pollyanna. They’re just rooms, that’s all – not a home.”

Pollyanna nodded her head. Her eyes glowed with sympathetic understanding.

“I know. It takes a woman’s hand and heart, or a child’s presence to make a home,” she said.

“Eh?”

“Mr. Pendleton told me,” nodded Pollyanna, again; “about the woman’s hand and heart, or the child’s presence, you know. Why don’t you get a woman’s hand and heart, Dr. Chilton? Or maybe you’d take Jimmy Bean – if Mr. Pendleton doesn’t want him.”

Dr. Chilton laughed a little.

“So Mr. Pendleton says it takes a woman’s hand and heart to make a home, does he?” he asked evasively.

“Yes. He says his is just a house, too.[121] Why don’t you, Dr. Chilton?”

“Why don’t I – what?”

“Get a woman’s hand and heart. Oh – and I forgot! I suppose I ought to tell you. It wasn’t Aunt Polly that Mr. Pendleton loved long ago; and so we – we aren’t going there to live. You see, I told you it was – but I made a mistake. I hope YOU didn’t tell anyone,” she finished anxiously.

“No – I didn’t tell anyone, Pollyanna,” replied the doctor.

“Oh, that’s all right, then,” sighed Pollyanna in relief. “But why don’t you get a woman’s hand and heart, Dr. Chilton?”

There was a moment’s silence; then very gravely the doctor said:

“It isn’t easy, little girl.”

Pollyanna frowned. Then her eyes widened in surprise.

“Dr. Chilton, you don’t mean – you didn’t try to get somebody’s hand and heart once, like Mr. Pendleton, and – and couldn’t, did you?”

“There, there, Pollyanna, never mind about that now. Don’t let other people’s troubles worry your little head. Run back now to Mrs. Snow. Here is the medicine. Was there anything else?”

Pollyanna shook her head.

“No, Sir; thank you, Sir,” she murmured, as she turned toward the door. “Anyhow, I’m glad it wasn’t my mother’s hand and heart that you wanted and couldn’t get, Dr. Chilton. Goodbye!”

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 tell afterward. Nobody could tell why it happened or who was to blame[122] that it did happen. Pollyanna, however, at five o’clock, 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 and put to bed, while from the village, Dr. Warren was hurrying as fast as another motor car could bring him.

“Just look at her aunt’s face,” Nancy was sobbing to Old Tom in the garden, after the doctor had arrived and was closeted in the room;[123] “Her hands shake, and now she isn’t doing her DUTY, I’m sure of it!”

“Is she hurt – bad?” The old man’s voice shook.

“Nobody knows it,” sobbed Nancy.

“But where is she hurt?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” moaned Nancy. “There’s a little cut on her blessed head, but Miss Polly says she’s afraid she’s hurt internally.”

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 looked very grave. Later they sent for a trained nurse.

It was sometime during the next forenoon that Pollyanna opened conscious eyes and realized where she was.

“Why, Aunt Polly, what’s the matter?[124] Isn’t it daytime? Why don’t I get up?” she cried. “Why, Aunt Polly, I can’t get up,” she moaned, falling back on the pillow, after an ineffectual attempt to lift herself.

“No, dear, I wouldn’t try – just yet,” soothed her aunt quickly, but very quietly.

“But what is the matter? Why can’t I get up?”

“You were hurt, dear, by the automobile last night. But never mind that now. Auntie wants you to rest and go to sleep again.”

“Hurt? Oh, yes; I–I ran.” Pollyanna’s eyes were dazed. She lifted her hand to her forehead. “Why, it’s – done up, and it – hurts![125]”

“Yes, dear; but never mind. Just – just rest.”

“But, Aunt Polly, I feel so funny, and so bad! My legs feel so – so queer – only they don’t FEEL – at all!”

Miss Polly turned away. The nurse came forward quickly.

“Suppose you let me talk to you now,” she began cheerily. “I am Miss Hunt, and I’m here to help your aunt take care of you. And the very first thing I’m going to do is to ask you to swallow these little white pills for me.”

“But I don’t want to be taken care of – that is, not for long! I want to get up. You know I go to school. Can’t I go to school tomorrow?”

From the window where Aunt Polly stood now there came a half-stifled cry.

“Tomorrow?” smiled the nurse.

“Well, I can’t let you go to school so soon as that, Miss Pollyanna. But just swallow these little pills for me, please, and we’ll see what THEY’LL do.”

“All right,” agreed Pollyanna; “but I MUST go to school the day after tomorrow – there are examinations then, you know.”

Chapter XXIII. John Pendleton

“And so it’s hurt that I am, and not sick,” she sighed at last. “Well, I’m glad of that.”

“G-glad, Pollyanna?” asked her aunt, who was sitting by the bed.

“Yes. I’d so much rather have broken legs like Mr. Pendleton’s than life-long-invalids like Mrs. Snow,[126] you know. Broken legs get well, and life-long-invalids don’t.”

Miss Polly got suddenly to her feet and walked to the little dressing table. Her face was white and drawn.

On the bed Pollyanna lay looking at the dancing colors on the ceiling, which came from one of the prisms in the window.

“I’m glad it isn’t appendicitis nor measles, because they’re catching – measles are, I mean – and they wouldn’t let you stay here.”

“You seem to – to be glad for a good many things, my dear,” faltered Aunt Polly.

Pollyanna laughed softly.

“I am. I’m so glad Mr. Pendleton gave me those prisms! But I’m most glad I was hurt.”

“Pollyanna!”

Pollyanna laughed softly again. “Well, you see, since I have been hurt, you’ve called me ‘dear’ lots of times – and you didn’t before.[127] I love to be called ‘dear’. Some of the Ladies’ Aiders called me that; and of course that was pretty nice. Oh, Aunt Polly, I’m so glad you belong to me!”

Aunt Polly did not answer. Her eyes were full of tears. She turned away and hurried from the room.

It was that afternoon that Nancy ran out to Old Tom. Her eyes were wild.

“Mr. Tom, Mr. Tom, guess what’s happened,” she panted. “You couldn’t guess in a thousand years – you couldn’t, you couldn’t! Who do you suppose is in the parlor now with the mistress?”

Old Tom shook his head.

“It’s – John Pendleton!”

“You’re joking, girl.”

“Not much I am! Just think, Mr. Tom – HE called on HER!”

“Well, why not?” demanded the old man, a little aggressively.

“Well, I’ve found out that Miss Polly still hates him owing to the silly gossip that coupled their names together when she was eighteen or twenty.”

“Yes, I remember,” nodded Old Tom. “It was three or four years after Miss Jennie gave him the mitten and went off with the other chap.[128] Miss Polly knew about it, of course, and was sorry for him. So she tried to be nice to him. Somebody began to make trouble. They said she was running after him. Then about that time she had troubles with her own lover. After that she shut up like an oyster. Her heart just seemed to turn bitter at the core.”

“Yes, I know,” rejoined Nancy; “and that’s why I was so surprised when I saw HIM at the door! But I let him in and went and told her.”

“What did she say?”

“‘Tell Mr. Pendleton I will be down at once.’ And I told him. Then I came out here and told you,” finished Nancy.

“Humph!” grunted Old Tom.

Mr. John Pendleton did not have to wait long before a swift step warned him of Miss Polly’s coming.[129] As he attempted to rise, she made a gesture of remonstrance. She did not offer her hand, however, and her face was coldly reserved.

“I called to ask for – Pollyanna,” he began at once.

“Thank you. She is about the same,” said Miss Polly.

“And that is – won’t you tell me HOW she is?” His voice was not quite steady.

A quick spasm of pain crossed the woman’s face.

“I can’t, I wish I could!”

“You mean – you don’t know?”

“Yes.”

“But – the doctor?”

“Dr. Warren is in correspondence now with a New York specialist. They have arranged for a consultation at once.”

“But – but what WERE her injuries that you know?”

“A slight cut on the head, one or two bruises, and – and an injury to the spine which has seemed to cause – paralysis from the hips down.[130]”