Pollyanna Grows Up

  CHAPTER XXIV

  JIMMY WAKES UP

  Outwardly the camping trip was pronounced a great success; butinwardly--

  Pollyanna wondered sometimes if it were all herself, or if therereally were a peculiar, indefinable constraint in everybody witheverybody else. Certainly she felt it, and she thought she sawevidences that the others felt it, too. As for the cause of itall--unhesitatingly she attributed it to that last day at camp withits unfortunate trip to the Basin.

  To be sure, she and Jimmy had easily caught up with Jamie, and had,after considerable coaxing, persuaded him to turn about and go on tothe Basin with them. But, in spite of everybody's very evident effortsto act as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, nobody reallysucceeded in doing so. Pollyanna, Jamie, and Jimmy overdid theirgayety a bit, perhaps; and the others, while not knowing exactly whathad happened, very evidently felt that something was not quite right,though they plainly tried to hide the fact that they did feel so.Naturally, in this state of affairs, restful happiness was out of thequestion. Even the anticipated fish dinner was flavorless; and earlyin the afternoon the start was made back to the camp.

  Once home again, Pollyanna had hoped that the unhappy episode of theangry bull would be forgotten. But she could not forget it, so in allfairness she could not blame the others if they could not. Always shethought of it now when she looked at Jamie. She saw again the agony onhis face, the crimson stain on the palms of his hands. Her heart achedfor him, and because it did so ache, his mere presence had come to bea pain to her. Remorsefully she confessed to herself that she did notlike to be with Jamie now, nor to talk with him--but that did not meanthat she was not often with him. She was with him, indeed, muchoftener than before, for so remorseful was she, and so fearful was shethat he would detect her unhappy frame of mind, that she lost noopportunity of responding to his overtures of comradeship; andsometimes she deliberately sought him out. This last she did not oftenhave to do, however, for more and more frequently these days Jamieseemed to be turning to her for companionship.

  The reason for this, Pollyanna believed, was to be found in this sameincident of the bull and the rescue. Not that Jamie ever referred toit directly. He never did that. He was, too, even gayer than usual;but Pollyanna thought she detected sometimes a bitterness underneathit all that was never there before. Certainly she could not helpseeing that at times he seemed almost to want to avoid the others, andthat he actually sighed, as if with relief, when he found himselfalone with her. She thought she knew why this was so, after he said toher, as he did say one day, while they were watching the others playtennis:

  "You see, after all, Pollyanna, there isn't any one who can quiteunderstand as you can."

  "'Understand'?" Pollyanna had not known what he meant at first. Theyhad been watching the players for five minutes without a word betweenthem.

  "Yes; for you, once--couldn't walk--yourself."

  "Oh-h, yes, I know," faltered Pollyanna; and she knew that her greatdistress must have shown in her face, for so quickly and so blithelydid he change the subject, after a laughing:

  "Come, come, Pollyanna, why don't you tell me to play the game? Iwould if I were in your place. Forget it, please. I was a brute tomake you look like that!"

  And Pollyanna smiled, and said: "No, no--no, indeed!" But she did not"forget it." She could not. And it all made her only the more anxiousto be with Jamie and help him all she could.

  "As if NOW I'd ever let him see that I was ever anything but glad whenhe was with me!" she thought fervently, as she hurried forward aminute later to take her turn in the game.

  Pollyanna, however, was not the only one in the party who felt a newawkwardness and constraint. Jimmy Pendleton felt it, though he, too,tried not to show it.

  Jimmy was not happy these days. From a care-free youth whose visionswere of wonderful spans across hitherto unbridgeable chasms, he hascome to be an anxious-eyed young man whose visions were of a fearedrival bearing away the girl he loved.

  Jimmy knew very well now that he was in love with Pollyanna. Hesuspected that he had been in love with her for some time. He stoodaghast, indeed, to find himself so shaken and powerless before thisthing that had come to him. He knew that even his beloved bridges wereas nothing when weighed against the smile in a girl's eyes and theword on a girl's lips. He realized that the most wonderful span in theworld to him would be the thing that could help him to cross the chasmof fear and doubt that he felt lay between him and Pollyanna--doubtbecause of Pollyanna; fear because of Jamie.

  Not until he had seen Pollyanna in jeopardy that day in the pasturehad he realized how empty would be the world--his world--without her.Not until his wild dash for safety with Pollyanna in his arms had herealized how precious she was to him. For a moment, indeed, with hisarms about her, and hers clinging about his neck, he had felt that shewas indeed his; and even in that supreme moment of danger he knew thethrill of supreme bliss. Then, a little later, he had seen Jamie'sface, and Jamie's hands. To him they could mean but one thing: Jamie,too, loved Pollyanna, and Jamie had to stand by, helpless--"tied totwo sticks." That was what he had said. Jimmy believed that, had hehimself been obliged to stand by helpless, "tied to two sticks," whileanother rescued the girl that he loved, he would have looked likethat.

  Jimmy had gone back to camp that day with his thoughts in a turmoil offear and rebellion. He wondered if Pollyanna cared for Jamie; that waswhere the fear came in. But even if she did care, a little, must hestand aside, weakly, and let Jamie, without a struggle, make her learnto care more? That was where the rebellion came in. Indeed, no, hewould not do it, decided Jimmy. It should be a fair fight betweenthem.

  Then, all by himself as he was, Jimmy flushed hot to the roots of hishair. Would it be a "fair" fight? Could any fight between him andJamie be a "fair" fight? Jimmy felt suddenly as he had felt yearsbefore when, as a lad, he had challenged a new boy to a fight for anapple they both claimed, then, at the first blow, had discovered thatthe new boy had a crippled arm. He had purposely lost then, of course,and had let the crippled boy win. But he told himself fiercely nowthat this case was different. It was no apple that was at stake. Itwas his life's happiness. It might even be Pollyanna's life'shappiness, too. Perhaps she did not care for Jamie at all, but wouldcare for her old friend, Jimmy, if he but once showed her he wantedher to care. And he would show her. He would--

  Once again Jimmy blushed hotly. But he frowned, too, angrily: if onlyhe COULD forget how Jamie had looked when he had uttered that moaning"tied to two sticks!" If only--But what was the use? It was NOT a fairfight, and he knew it. He knew, too, right there and then, that hisdecision would be just what it afterwards proved to be: he would watchand wait. He would give Jamie his chance; and if Pollyanna showed thatshe cared, he would take himself off and away quite out of theirlives; and they should never know, either of them, how bitterly he wassuffering. He would go back to his bridges--as if any bridge, thoughit led to the moon itself, could compare for a moment with Pollyanna!But he would do it. He must do it.

  It was all very fine and heroic, and Jimmy felt so exalted he wasatingle with something that was almost happiness when he finallydropped off to sleep that night. But martyrdom in theory and practicediffers woefully, as would-be martyrs have found out from timeimmemorial. It was all very well to decide alone and in the dark thathe would give Jamie his chance; but it was quite another matter reallyto do it when it involved nothing less than the leaving of Pollyannaand Jamie together almost every time he saw them. Then, too, he wasvery much worried at Pollyanna's apparent attitude toward the lameyouth. It looked very much to Jimmy as if she did indeed care for him,so watchful was she of his comfort, so apparently eager to be withhim. Then, as if to settle any possible doubt in Jimmy's mind, therecame the day when Sadie Dean had something to say on the subject.

  They were all out in the tennis court. Sadie was sitting alone whenJimmy strolled up to her.

  "You next with Pollyanna, isn't it?" he queried.

  She shook her h
ead.

  "Pollyanna isn't playing any more this morning."

  "Isn't playing!" frowned Jimmy, who had been counting on his own gamewith Pollyanna. "Why not?"

  For a brief minute Sadie Dean did not answer; then with very evidentdifficulty she said:

  "Pollyanna told me last night that she thought we were playing tennistoo much; that it wasn't kind to--Mr. Carew, as long as he can'tplay."

  "I know; but--" Jimmy stopped helplessly, the frown plowing a deeperfurrow into his forehead. The next instant he fairly started withsurprise at the tense something in Sadie Dean's voice, as she said:

  "But he doesn't want her to stop. He doesn't want any one of us tomake any difference--for him. It's that that hurts him so. She doesn'tunderstand. She doesn't understand! But I do. She thinks she does,though!"

  Something in words or manner sent a sudden pang to Jimmy's heart. Hethrew a sharp look into her face. A question flew to his lips. For amoment he held it back; then, trying to hide his earnestness with abantering smile, he let it come.

  "Why, Miss Dean, you don't mean to convey the idea that--that there'sany SPECIAL interest in each other--between those two, do you?"

  She gave him a scornful glance.

  "Where have your eyes been? She worships him! I mean--they worshipeach other," she corrected hastily.

  Jimmy, with an inarticulate ejaculation, turned and walked awayabruptly. He could not trust himself to remain longer. He did not wishto talk any more, just then, to Sadie Dean. So abruptly, indeed, didhe turn, that he did not notice that Sadie Dean, too, turnedhurriedly, and busied herself looking in the grass at her feet, as ifshe had lost something. Very evidently, Sadie Dean, also, did not wishto talk any more just then.

  Jimmy Pendleton told himself that it was not true at all; that it wasall falderal, what Sadie Dean had said. Yet nevertheless, true or nottrue, he could not forget it. It colored all his thoughts thereafter,and loomed before his eyes like a shadow whenever he saw Pollyanna andJamie together. He watched their faces covertly. He listened to thetones of their voices. He came then, in time, to think it was, afterall, true: that they did worship each other; and his heart, inconsequence, grew like lead within him. True to his promise tohimself, however, he turned resolutely away. The die was cast, he toldhimself. Pollyanna was not to be for him.

  Restless days for Jimmy followed. To stay away from the Harringtonhomestead entirely he did not dare, lest his secret be suspected. Tobe with Pollyanna at all now was torture. Even to be with Sadie Deanwas unpleasant, for he could not forget that it was Sadie Dean who hadfinally opened his eyes. Jamie, certainly, was no haven of refuge,under the circumstances; and that left only Mrs. Carew. Mrs. Carew,however, was a host in herself, and Jimmy found his only comfort thesedays in her society. Gay or grave, she always seemed to know how tofit his mood exactly; and it was wonderful how much she knew aboutbridges--the kind of bridges he was going to build. She was so wise,too, and so sympathetic, knowing always just the right word to say. Heeven one day almost told her about The Packet; but John Pendletoninterrupted them at just the wrong moment, so the story was not told.John Pendleton was always interrupting them at just the wrong moment,Jimmy thought vexedly, sometimes. Then, when he remembered what JohnPendleton had done for him, he was ashamed.

  "The Packet" was a thing that dated back to Jimmy's boyhood, and hadnever been mentioned to any one save to John Pendleton, and that onlyonce, at the time of his adoption. The Packet was nothing but rather alarge white envelope, worn with time, and plump with mystery behind ahuge red seal. It had been given him by his father, and it bore thefollowing instructions in his father's hand:

  "To my boy, Jimmy. Not to be opened until his thirtieth birthdayexcept in case of his death, when it shall be opened at once."

  There were times when Jimmy speculated a good deal as to the contentsof that envelope. There were other times when he forgot its existence.In the old days, at the Orphans' Home, his chief terror had been thatit should be discovered and taken away from him. In those days he woreit always hidden in the lining of his coat. Of late years, at JohnPendleton's suggestion, it had been tucked away in the Pendleton safe.

  "For there's no knowing how valuable it may be," John Pendleton hadsaid, with a smile. "And, anyway, your father evidently wanted you tohave it, and we wouldn't want to run the risk of losing it."

  "No, I wouldn't want to lose it, of course," Jimmy had smiled back, alittle soberly. "But I'm not counting on its being real valuable, sir.Poor dad didn't have anything that was very valuable about him, as Iremember."

  It was this Packet that Jimmy came so near mentioning to Mrs. Carewone day,--if only John Pendleton had not interrupted them.

  "Still, maybe it's just as well I didn't tell her about it," Jimmyreflected afterwards, on his way home. "She might have thought dad hadsomething in his life that wasn't quite--right. And I wouldn't havewanted her to think that--of dad."