Поллианна

           "Yes,Iremember. IheardMr.JohnPendletonhadmetwithanaccident,"saidMissPolly,alittlestiffly; "but—IdonotcaretobesendingjellytoJohnPendleton,Pollyanna." "Iknow,heiscross—outside,"admittedPollyanna,sadly,"soIsupposeyoudon’tlikehim. ButIwouldn’tsay‘twasyousentit. I’dsay‘twasme. Ilikehim. I’dbegladtosendhimjelly." 

           MissPollybegantoshakeherheadagain. Then,suddenly,shestopped,andaskedinacuriouslyquietvoice: 

           "Doesheknowwhoyou—are,Pollyanna?" 

           Thelittlegirlsighed. 

           "Ireckonnot. Itoldhimmyname,once,buthenevercallsmeit—never." 

           "Doesheknowwhereyou—live?" 

           "Oh,no. Inevertoldhimthat." 

           "Thenhedoesn’tknowyou’remy—niece?" 

           "Idon’tthinkso." 

           Foramomenttherewassilence. MissPollywaslookingatPollyannawitheyesthatdidnotseemtoseeheratall. Thelittlegirl,shiftingimpatientlyfromonesmallfoottotheother,sighedaudibly. ThenMissPollyrousedherselfwithastart. 

           "Verywell,Pollyanna,"shesaidatlast,stillinthatqueervoice,sounlikeherown; "youmayyoumaytakethejellytoMr.Pendletonasyourowngift. Butunderstand:Idonotsendit. BeverysurethathedoesnotthinkIdo!" 

           "Yes’m—no’m—thankyou,AuntPolly,"exultedPollyanna,assheflewthroughthedoor.