Поллианна
Two visits
Itwasthenthatthesamethoughtmusthave,insomeway,cometoPollyanna’sfriends. Atallevents,almostatonce,themistressoftheHarringtonhomestead,greatlytohersurprise,begantoreceivecalls:callsfrompeoplesheknew,andpeopleshedidnotknow; callsfrommen,women,andchildren—manyofwhomMissPollyhadnotsupposedthathernieceknewatall.
Somecameinandsatdownforastifffiveortenminutes. Somestoodawkwardlyontheporchsteps,fumblingwithhatsorhand-bags,accordingtotheirsex. Somebroughtabook,abunchofflowers,oradaintytotemptthepalate. Somecriedfrankly. Someturnedtheirbacksandblewtheirnosesfuriously. Butallinquiredveryanxiouslyforthelittleinjuredgirl; andallsenttohersomemessage—anditwasthesemessageswhich,afteratime,stirredMissPollytoaction.
FirstcameMr.JohnPendleton. Hecamewithouthiscrutchesto-day.
"Idon’tneedtotellyouhowshockedIam,"hebeganalmostharshly. "Butcan—nothingbedone?"
MissPollygaveagestureofdespair.
"Oh,we’re‘doing,’ofcourse,allthetime. Dr.Meadprescribedcertaintreatmentsandmedicinesthatmighthelp,andDr.Warreniscarryingthemouttotheletter,ofcourse. But—Dr.Meadheldoutalmostnohope." JohnPendletonroseabruptly—thoughhehadbutjustcome. Hisfacewaswhite,andhismouthwassetintosternlines. MissPolly,lookingathim,knewverywellwhyhefeltthathecouldnotstaylongerinherpresence. Atthedoorheturned.
