Полліанна
The little attic room
Shewasatthebackofthehouse. Beforeherlayagardeninwhichabentoldmanwasworking. Beyondthegardenalittlepaththroughanopenfieldledupasteephill,atthetopofwhichalonepinetreestoodonguardbesidethehugerock. ToPollyanna,atthemoment,thereseemedtobejustoneplaceintheworldworthbeingin—thetopofthatbigrock.
Witharunandaskilfulturn,Pollyannaskippedbythebentoldman,threadedherwaybetweentheorderlyrowsofgreengrowingthings,and—alittleoutofbreath—reachedthepaththatranthroughtheopenfield. Then,determinedly,shebegantoclimb. Already,however,shewasthinkingwhatalong,longwayoffthatrockmustbe,whenbackatthewindowithadlookedsonear!
FifteenminuteslaterthegreatclockinthehallwayoftheHarringtonhomesteadstrucksix. AtpreciselythelaststrokeNancysoundedthebellforsupper.
One,two,threeminutespassed. MissPollyfrownedandtappedthefloorwithherslipper. Alittlejerkilysherosetoherfeet,wentintothehall,andlookedup-stairs,plainlyimpatient. Foraminuteshelistenedintently; thensheturnedandsweptintothediningroom.
"Nancy,"shesaidwithdecision,assoonasthelittleserving-maidappeared; "mynieceislate. No,youneednotcallher,"sheaddedseverely,asNancymadeamovetowardthehalldoor. "Itoldherwhattimesupperwas,andnowshewillhavetosuffertheconsequences. Shemayaswellbeginatoncetolearntobepunctual. Whenshecomesdownshemayhavebreadandmilkinthekitchen."
"Yes,ma’am." Itwaswell,perhaps,thatMissPollydidnothappentobelookingatNancy’sfacejustthen. Attheearliestpossiblemomentaftersupper,Nancycreptupthebackstairsandthencetotheatticroom.
