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The coming of Pollyanna

           MissPollyevidentlyreadthepausearight,forshefrownedandsaidcrisply:"No,Ishallnotgo. ItisnotnecessarythatIshould,Ithink. Thatisall." AndsheturnedawayMissPolly’sarrangementsforthecomfortofherniece,Pollyanna,werecomplete. 

           Inthekitchen,Nancysentherflatironwithaviciousdigacrossthedish-towelshewasironing. 

           "‘Lighthair,red-checkedginghamdress,andstrawhat’allsheknows,indeed! Well,I’dbeashamedterownitup,thatIwould,Iwouldandhermyonliestniecewhatwasa-comin’from‘wayacrossthecontinent!" 

           PromptlyattwentyminutestofourthenextafternoonTimothyandNancydroveoffintheopenbuggytomeettheexpectedguest. TimothywasOldTom’sson. ItwassometimessaidinthetownthatifOldTomwasMissPolly’sright-handman,Timothywasherleft. 

           Timothywasagood-naturedyouth,andagood-lookingone,aswell. ShortashadbeenNancy’sstayatthehouse,thetwowerealreadygoodfriends. To-day,however,Nancywastoofullofhermissiontobeherusualtalkativeself; andalmostinsilenceshetookthedrivetothestationandalightedtowaitforthetrain. 

           Overandoverinhermindshewassayingit"lighthair,red-checkeddress,strawhat." OverandoveragainshewaswonderingjustwhatsortofchildthisPollyannawas,anyway. 

           "Ihopeforhersakeshe’squietandsensible,anddon’tdropknivesnorbangdoors,"shesighedtoTimothy,whohadsauntereduptoher. 

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Roboto Lora
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