Поллианна
A Red rose and a Lace shawl
SoamazedandsoabsorbedwasMissPollywithwhatshesawintheglassthatshequiteforgotherdeterminationtodooverherhair,untilsheheardPollyannaentertheroomagain. Beforeshecouldmove,then,shefeltafoldedsomethingslippedacrosshereyesandtiedintheback.
"Pollyanna,Pollyanna! Whatareyoudoing?"shecried.
Pollyannachuckled.
"That’sjustwhatIdon’twantyoutoknow,AuntPolly,andIwasafraidyouWOULDpeek,soItiedonthehandkerchief. Nowsitstill. Itwon’ttakebutjustaminute,thenI’llletyousee."
"But,Pollyanna,"beganMissPolly,strugglingblindlytoherfeet,"youmusttakethisoff! You—child,child!whatAREyoudoing?"shegasped,asshefeltasoftsomethingslippedabouthershoulders.
Pollyannaonlychuckledthemoregleefully. Withtremblingfingersshewasdrapingaboutheraunt’sshouldersthefleecyfoldsofabeautifullaceshawl,yellowedfromlongyearsofpackingaway,andfragrantwithlavender. PollyannahadfoundtheshawltheweekbeforewhenNancyhadbeenregulatingtheattic; andithadoccurredtoherto-daythattherewasnoreasonwhyheraunt,aswellasMrs.WhiteofherWesternhome,shouldnotbe"dressedup."
Hertaskcompleted,Pollyannasurveyedherworkwitheyesthatapproved,butthatsawyetonetouchwanting. Promptly,therefore,shepulledheraunttowardthesunparlorwhereshecouldseeabelatedredrosebloomingonthetrelliswithinreachofherhand.
