Полліанна

A waiting Game

           "Well,shedidn’ttellMissPolly,"rejoinedNancy. "MissPollyannatoldmelongagothatshecouldn’ttellher,‘causeherauntdidn’tliketerhavehertalkaboutherfather; an’‘twasherfather’sgame,an’she’dhavetertalkabouthimifshedidtellit. Soshenevertoldher." 

           "Oh,Isee,Isee." Theoldmannoddedhisheadslowly. "Theywasalwaysbitteragainsttheministerchapallof‘em,‘causehetookMissJennieawayfrom‘em. An’MissPollyyoungasshewascouldn’tneverforgivehim; shewasthatfondofMissJennieinthemdays. Isee,Isee. ‘Twasabadmess,"hesighed,asheturnedaway. 

           "Yes,‘twasall‘round,all‘round,"sighedNancyinherturn,asshewentbacktoherkitchen. 

           Fornoonewerethosedaysofwaitingeasy. Thenursetriedtolookcheerful,buthereyesweretroubled. Thedoctorwasopenlynervousandimpatient. MissPollysaidlittle; buteventhesofteningwavesofhairaboutherface,andthebecominglacesatherthroat,couldnothidethefactthatshewasgrowingthinandpale. AstoPollyannaPollyannapettedthedog,smoothedthecat’ssleekhead,admiredtheflowersandatethefruitsandjelliesthatweresentintoher; andreturnedinnumerablecheeryanswerstothemanymessagesofloveandinquirythatwerebroughttoherbedside. Butshe,too,grewpaleandthin; andthenervousactivityofthepoorlittlehandsandarmsonlyemphasizedthepitifulmotionlessnessoftheonceactivelittlefeetandlegsnowlyingsowoefullyquietundertheblankets. 

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Roboto Lora
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