Поллианна
Which is somewhat surprising
Theman’sfacegrewsuddenlyverygrave.
"That’swhyIwantyou,littlegirl—tohelpmeplayit. Willyoucome?"
Pollyannaturnedinsurprise.
"Mr.Pendleton,youdon’treallymean—that?"
"ButIdo. Iwantyou. Willyoucome?"
Pollyannalookeddistressed.
"Why,Mr.Pendleton,Ican’t—youknowIcan’t. Why,I’m—AuntPolly’s!"
Aquicksomethingcrossedtheman’sfacethatPollyannacouldnotquiteunderstand. Hisheadcameupalmostfiercely.
"You’renomorehersthan—Perhapsshewouldletyoucometome,"hefinishedmoregently. "Wouldyoucome—ifshedid?"
Pollyannafrownedindeepthought.
"ButAuntPollyhasbeenso—goodtome,"shebeganslowly; "andshetookmewhenIdidn’thaveanybodyleftbuttheLadies’Aid,and—"
Againthatspasmofsomethingcrossedtheman’sface; butthistime,whenhespoke,hisvoicewaslowandverysad.
"Pollyanna,longyearsagoIlovedsomebodyverymuch. Ihopedtobringher,someday,tothishouse. Ipicturedhowhappywe’dbetogetherinourhomeallthelongyearstocome."
"Yes,"pitiedPollyanna,hereyesshiningwithsympathy.
