Поллианна
The coming of Pollyanna
MissPollyevidentlyreadthepausearight,forshefrownedandsaidcrisply:"No,Ishallnotgo. ItisnotnecessarythatIshould,Ithink. Thatisall." Andsheturnedaway—MissPolly’sarrangementsforthecomfortofherniece,Pollyanna,werecomplete.
Inthekitchen,Nancysentherflatironwithaviciousdigacrossthedish-towelshewasironing.
"‘Lighthair,red-checkedginghamdress,andstrawhat’—allsheknows,indeed! Well,I’dbeashamedterownitup,thatIwould,Iwould—andhermyonliestniecewhatwasa-comin’from‘wayacrossthecontinent!"
PromptlyattwentyminutestofourthenextafternoonTimothyandNancydroveoffintheopenbuggytomeettheexpectedguest. TimothywasOldTom’sson. ItwassometimessaidinthetownthatifOldTomwasMissPolly’sright-handman,Timothywasherleft.
Timothywasagood-naturedyouth,andagood-lookingone,aswell. ShortashadbeenNancy’sstayatthehouse,thetwowerealreadygoodfriends. To-day,however,Nancywastoofullofhermissiontobeherusualtalkativeself; andalmostinsilenceshetookthedrivetothestationandalightedtowaitforthetrain.
Overandoverinhermindshewassayingit"lighthair,red-checkeddress,strawhat." OverandoveragainshewaswonderingjustwhatsortofchildthisPollyannawas,anyway.
"Ihopeforhersakeshe’squietandsensible,anddon’tdropknivesnorbangdoors,"shesighedtoTimothy,whohadsauntereduptoher.
