Поллианна
A Question answered
Nancychuckled.
"You’rerightsheis—andshealwayswas,Iguess! Butshe’ssomethin’more,now,sinceyoucame."
Pollyanna’sfacechanged. Herbrowsdrewintoatroubledfrown.
"There,that’swhatIwasgoingtoaskyou,Nancy,"shesighed. "DoyouthinkAuntPollylikestohavemehere? Wouldshemind—ififIwasn’thereanymore?"
Nancythrewaquicklookintothelittlegirl’sabsorbedface. Shehadexpectedtobeaskedthisquestionlongbefore,andshehaddreadedit. Shehadwonderedhowsheshouldanswerit—howshecouldanswerithonestlywithoutcruellyhurtingthequestioner. Butnow,NOW,inthefaceofthenewsuspicionsthathadbecomeconvictionsbytheafternoon’sumbrella-sending—Nancyonlywelcomedthequestionwithopenarms. Shewassurethat,withacleanconscienceto-day,shecouldsetthelove-hungrylittlegirl’sheartatrest.
"Likesterhaveyehere? Wouldshemissyeifyewa’n’there?"criedNancy,indignantly. "Asifthatwa’n’tjestwhatIwastellin’ofye! Didn’tshesendmeposthastewithanumbrella‘causesheseealittlecloudinthesky? Didn’tshemakemetoteyerthingsalldown-stairs,soyoucouldhavetheprettyroomyouwanted? Why,MissPollyanna,whenyerememberhowatfirstshehatedterhave—"
