Полліанна
Which is more surprising
"Mymother’s!"
"Yes. Ihadnotmeanttotellyou,butperhapsit’sbetter,afterall,thatIdo—now." JohnPendleton’sfacehadgrownverywhite. Hewasspeakingwithevidentdifficulty. Pollyanna,hereyeswideandfrightened,andherlipsparted,wasgazingathimfixedly. "Ilovedyourmother; butshe—didn’tloveme. Andafteratimeshewentawaywith—yourfather. IdidnotknowuntilthenhowmuchIdid—care. Thewholeworldsuddenlyseemedtoturnblackundermyfingers,and—But,nevermind. ForlongyearsIhavebeenacross,crabbed,unlovable,unlovedoldman—thoughI’mnotnearlysixty,yet,Pollyanna. Then,Oneday,likeoneoftheprismsthatyoulovesowell,littlegirl,youdancedintomylife,andfleckedmydrearyoldworldwithdashesofthepurpleandgoldandscarletofyourownbrightcheeriness. Ifoundout,afteratime,whoyouwere,and—andIthoughtthenIneverwantedtoseeyouagain. Ididn’twanttoberemindedof—yourmother. But—youknowhowthatcameout. Ijusthadtohaveyoucome. AndnowIwantyoualways. Pollyanna,won’tyoucomeNOW?"
"But,Mr.Pendleton,I—There’sAuntPolly!"Pollyanna’seyeswereblurredwithtears.
Themanmadeanimpatientgesture.
"Whataboutme? HowdoyousupposeI’mgoingtobe‘glad’aboutanything—withoutyou? Why,Pollyanna,it’sonlysinceyoucamethatI’vebeenevenhalfgladtolive! ButifIhadyouformyownlittlegirl,I’dbegladfor—anything; andI’dtrytomakeyouglad,too,mydear. Youshouldn’thaveawishungratified. Allmymoney,tothelastcent,shouldgotomakeyouhappy."
