Pollyanna

  CHAPTER XXVII. TWO VISITS

  It was Nancy who was sent to tell Mr. John Pendleton of Dr. Mead'sverdict. Miss Polly had remembered her promise to let him have directinformation from the house. To go herself, or to write a letter, shefelt to be almost equally out of the question. It occurred to her thento send Nancy.

  There had been a time when Nancy would have rejoiced greatly at thisextraordinary opportunity to see something of the House of Mystery andits master. But to-day her heart was too heavy to, rejoice at anything.She scarcely even looked about her at all, indeed, during the fewminutes, she waited for Mr. John Pendleton to appear.

  "I'm Nancy, sir," she said respectfully, in response to the surprisedquestioning of his eyes, when he came into the room. "Miss Harringtonsent me to tell you about--Miss Pollyanna."

  "Well?"

  In spite of the curt terseness of the word, Nancy quite understood theanxiety that lay behind that short "well?"

  "It ain't well, Mr. Pendleton," she choked.

  "You don't mean--" He paused, and she bowed her head miserably.

  "Yes, sir. He says--she can't walk again--never."

  For a moment there was absolute silence in the room; then the man spoke,in a voice shaken with emotion.

  "Poor--little--girl! Poor--little--girl!"

  Nancy glanced at him, but dropped her eyes at once. She had not supposedthat sour, cross, stern John Pendleton could look like that. In a momenthe spoke again, still in the low, unsteady voice.

  "It seems cruel--never to dance in the sunshine again! My little prismgirl!"

  There was another silence; then, abruptly, the man asked:

  "She herself doesn't know yet--of course--does she?"

  "But she does, sir." sobbed Nancy, "an' that's what makes it all theharder. She found out--drat that cat! I begs yer pardon," apologized thegirl, hurriedly. "It's only that the cat pushed open the door an' MissPollyanna overheard 'em talkin'. She found out--that way."

  "Poor--little--girl!" sighed the man again.

  "Yes, sir. You'd say so, sir, if you could see her," choked Nancy. "Ihain't seen her but twice since she knew about it, an' it done me upboth times. Ye see it's all so fresh an' new to her, an' she keepsthinkin' all the time of new things she can't do--NOW. It worries her,too, 'cause she can't seem ter be glad--maybe you don't know about hergame, though," broke off Nancy, apologetically.

  "The 'glad game'?" asked the man. "Oh, yes; she told me of that."

  "Oh, she did! Well, I guess she has told it generally ter most folks.But ye see, now she--she can't play it herself, an' it worries her.She says she can't think of a thing--not a thing about this not walkin'again, ter be glad about."

  "Well, why should she?" retorted the man, almost savagely.

  Nancy shifted her feet uneasily.

  "That's the way I felt, too--till I happened ter think--it WOULD beeasier if she could find somethin', ye know. So I tried to--to remindher."

  "To remind her! Of what?" John Pendleton's voice was still angrilyimpatient.

  "Of--of how she told others ter play it Mis' Snow, and the rest, yeknow--and what she said for them ter do. But the poor little lamb justcries, an' says it don't seem the same, somehow. She says it's easy terTELL lifelong invalids how ter be glad, but 'tain't the same thing whenyou're the lifelong invalid yerself, an' have ter try ter do it. Shesays she's told herself over an' over again how glad she is that otherfolks ain't like her; but that all the time she's sayin' it, she ain'treally THINKIN' of anythin' only how she can't ever walk again."

  Nancy paused, but the man did not speak. He sat with his hand over hiseyes.

  "Then I tried ter remind her how she used ter say the game was all thenicer ter play when--when it was hard," resumed Nancy, in a dull voice."But she says that, too, is diff'rent--when it really IS hard. An' Imust be goin', now, sir," she broke off abruptly.

  At the door she hesitated, turned, and asked timidly:

  "I couldn't be tellin' Miss Pollyanna that--that you'd seen Jimmy Beanagain, I s'pose, sir, could I?"

  "I don't see how you could--as I haven't seen him," observed the man alittle shortly. "Why?"

  "Nothin', sir, only--well, ye see, that's one of the things that she wasfeelin' bad about, that she couldn't take him ter see you, now. She saidshe'd taken him once, but she didn't think he showed off very well thatday, and that she was afraid you didn't think he would make a very nicechild's presence, after all. Maybe you know what she means by that; butI didn't, sir."

  "Yes, I know--what she means."

  "All right, sir. It was only that she was wantin' ter take him again,she said, so's ter show ye he really was a lovely child's presence. Andnow she--can't--drat that autymobile! I begs yer pardon, sir. Good-by!"And Nancy fled precipitately.

  It did not take long for the entire town of Beldingsville to learn thatthe great New York doctor had said Pollyanna Whittier would neverwalk again; and certainly never before had the town been so stirred.Everybody knew by sight now the piquant little freckled face that hadalways a smile of greeting; and almost everybody knew of the "game" thatPollyanna was playing. To think that now never again would that smilingface be seen on their streets--never again would that cheery littlevoice proclaim the gladness of some everyday experience! It seemedunbelievable, impossible, cruel.

  In kitchens and sitting rooms, and over back-yard fences women talked ofit, and wept openly. On street corners and in store lounging-places themen talked, too, and wept--though not so openly. And neither the talkingnor the weeping grew less when fast on the heels of the news itself,came Nancy's pitiful story that Pollyanna, face to face with what hadcome to her, was bemoaning most of all the fact that she could not playthe game; that she could not now be glad over--anything.

  It was then that the same thought must have, in some way, come toPollyanna's friends. At all events, almost at once, the mistress of theHarrington homestead, greatly to her surprise, began to receive calls:calls from people she knew, and people she did not know; calls from men,women, and children--many of whom Miss Polly had not supposed that herniece knew at all.

  Some came in and sat down for a stiff five or ten minutes. Some stoodawkwardly on the porch steps, fumbling with hats or hand-bags, accordingto their sex. Some brought a book, a bunch of flowers, or a dainty totempt the palate. Some cried frankly. Some turned their backs and blewtheir noses furiously. But all inquired very anxiously for the littleinjured girl; and all sent to her some message--and it was thesemessages which, after a time, stirred Miss Polly to action.

  First came Mr. John Pendleton. He came without his crutches to-day.

  "I don't need to tell you how shocked I am," he began almost harshly."But can--nothing be done?"

  Miss Polly gave a gesture of despair.

  "Oh, we're 'doing,' of course, all the time. Dr. Mead prescribed certaintreatments and medicines that might help, and Dr. Warren is carryingthem out to the letter, of course. But--Dr. Mead held out almost nohope."

  John Pendleton rose abruptly--though he had but just come. His face waswhite, and his mouth was set into stern lines. Miss Polly, looking athim, knew very well why he felt that he could not stay longer in herpresence. At the door he turned.

  "I have a message for Pollyanna," he said. "Will you tell her, please,that I have seen Jimmy Bean and--that he's going to be my boy hereafter.Tell her I thought she would be--GLAD to know. I shall adopt him,probably."

  For a brief moment Miss Polly lost her usual well-bred self-control.

  "You will adopt Jimmy Bean!" she gasped.

  The man lifted his chin a little.

  "Yes. I think Pollyanna will understand. You will tell her I thought shewould be--GLAD!"

  "Why, of--of course," faltered Miss Polly.

  "Thank you," bowed John Pendleton, as he turned to go.

  In the middle of the floor Miss Polly stood, silent and amazed, stilllooking after the man who had just left her. Even yet she could scarcelybelieve what her ears had heard. John Pendleton ADOPT Jimmy Bean? JohnPe
ndleton, wealthy, independent, morose, reputed to be miserly andsupremely selfish, to adopt a little boy--and such a little boy?

  With a somewhat dazed face Miss Polly went up-stairs to Pollyanna'sroom.

  "Pollyanna, I have a message for you from Mr. John Pendleton. He hasjust been here. He says to tell you he has taken Jimmy Bean for hislittle boy. He said he thought you'd be glad to know it."

  Pollyanna's wistful little face flamed into sudden joy.

  "Glad? GLAD? Well, I reckon I am glad! Oh, Aunt Polly, I've so wanted tofind a place for Jimmy--and that's such a lovely place! Besides, I'mso glad for Mr. Pendleton, too. You see, now he'll have the child'spresence."

  "The--what?"

  Pollyanna colored painfully. She had forgotten that she had never toldher aunt of Mr. Pendleton's desire to adopt her--and certainly shewould not wish to tell her now that she had ever thought for a minute ofleaving her--this dear Aunt Polly!

  "The child's presence," stammered Pollyanna, hastily. "Mr. Pendletontold me once, you see, that only a woman's hand and heart or a child'spresence could make a--a home. And now he's got it--the child'spresence."

  "Oh, I--see," said Miss Polly very gently; and she did see--more thanPollyanna realized. She saw something of the pressure that was probablybrought to bear on Pollyanna herself at the time John Pendleton wasasking HER to be the "child's presence," which was to transform hisgreat pile of gray stone into a home. "I see," she finished, her eyesstinging with sudden tears.

  Pollyanna, fearful that her aunt might ask further embarrassingquestions, hastened to lead the conversation away from the Pendletonhouse and its master.

  "Dr. Chilton says so, too--that it takes a woman's hand and heart, or achild's presence, to make a home, you know," she remarked.

  Miss Polly turned with a start.

  "DR. CHILTON! How do you know--that?"

  "He told me so. 'Twas when he said he lived in just rooms, you know--nota home."

  Miss Polly did not answer. Her eyes were out the window.

  "So I asked him why he didn't get 'em--a woman's hand and heart, andhave a home."

  "Pollyanna!" Miss Polly had turned sharply. Her cheeks showed a suddencolor.

  "Well, I did. He looked so--so sorrowful."

  "What did he--say?" Miss Polly asked the question as if in spite of someforce within her that was urging her not to ask it.

  "He didn't say anything for a minute; then he said very low that youcouldn't always get 'em for the asking."

  There was a brief silence. Miss Polly's eyes had turned again to thewindow. Her cheeks were still unnaturally pink.

  Pollyanna sighed.

  "He wants one, anyhow, I know, and I wish he could have one."

  "Why, Pollyanna, HOW do you know?"

  "Because, afterwards, on another day, he said something else. He saidthat low, too, but I heard him. He said that he'd give all the worldif he did have one woman's hand and heart. Why, Aunt Polly, what's thematter?" Aunt Polly had risen hurriedly and gone to the window.

  "Nothing, dear. I was changing the position of this prism," said AuntPolly, whose whole face now was aflame.