Поллианна
The coming of Pollyanna
"Well,ifsheain’t,nobodyknowswhat’llbecomeoftherestofus,"grinnedTimothy. "ImagineMissPollyandaNOISYkid! Gorry! theregoesthewhistlenow!"
"Oh,Timothy,I—Ithinkitwasmeantersendme,"chatteredthesuddenlyfrightenedNancy,assheturnedandhurriedtoapointwhereshecouldbestwatchthepassengersalightatthelittlestation.
ItwasnotlongbeforeNancysawher—theslenderlittlegirlinthered-checkedginghamwithtwofatbraidsofflaxenhairhangingdownherback. Beneaththestrawhat,aneager,freckledlittlefaceturnedtotherightandtotheleft,plainlysearchingforsomeone.
Nancyknewthechildatonce,butnotforsometimecouldshecontrolhershakingkneessufficientlytogotoher. ThelittlegirlwasstandingquitebyherselfwhenNancyfinallydidapproachher.
"AreyouMiss—Pollyanna?"shefaltered. Thenextmomentshefoundherselfhalfsmotheredintheclaspoftwogingham-cladarms.
"Oh,I’msoglad,GLAD,GLADtoseeyou,"criedaneagervoiceinherear. "OfcourseI’mPollyanna,andI’msogladyoucametomeetme! Ihopedyouwould."
"You—youdid?"stammeredNancy,vaguelywonderinghowPollyannacouldpossiblyhaveknownher—andwantedher. "You—youdid?"sherepeated,tryingtostraightenherhat.
"Oh,yes; andI’vebeenwonderingallthewayherewhatyoulookedlike,"criedthelittlegirl,dancingonhertoes,andsweepingtheembarrassedNancyfromheadtofoot,withhereyes. "AndnowIknow,andI’mgladyoulookjustlikeyoudolook." NancywasrelievedjustthentohaveTimothycomeup. Pollyanna’swordshadbeenmostconfusing.
