Поллианна
The Game and its players
"AndsowewantyoutopleasetellMissPollyannathatweunderstandit’sallbecauseofher. Andpleasesaywe’resogladweknowher,thatwethought,maybeifsheknewit,itwouldmakeheralittlegladthatsheknewus. And—andthat’sall,"sighedMilly,risinghurriedlytoherfeet. "You’lltellher?"
"Why,ofcourse,"murmuredMissPolly,wonderingjusthowmuchofthisremarkablediscourseshecouldremembertotell.
ThesevisitsofJohnPendletonandMillySnowwereonlythefirstofmany; andalwaystherewerethemessages—themessageswhichwereinsomewayssocuriousthattheycausedMissPollymoreandmoretopuzzleoverthem.
OnedaytherewasthelittleWidowBenton. MissPollyknewherwell,thoughtheyhadnevercalleduponeachother. Byreputationsheknewherasthesaddestlittlewomanintown—onewhowasalwaysinblack. To-day,however,Mrs.Bentonworeaknotofpaleblueatthethroat,thoughthereweretearsinhereyes. Shespokeofhergriefandhorrorattheaccident; thensheaskeddiffidentlyifshemightseePollyanna.
MissPollyshookherhead.
"Iamsorry,butsheseesnooneyet. Alittlelater—perhaps."
Mrs.Bentonwipedhereyes,rose,andturnedtogo. Butaftershehadalmostreachedthehalldoorshecamebackhurriedly.
