Pollyanna Grows Up

Pollyanna Grows Up

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Pollyanna Grows Up, by Eleanor H.
Porter #8 in our series by Eleanor H. Porter
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Title: Pollyanna Grows Up
Author: Eleanor H. Porter
Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6100] [Yes, we are more than one
year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on November 6,

2002]
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POLLYANNA GROWS UP ***

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POLLYANNA GROWS UP
The Second Glad Book Trade----Mark
By Eleanor H. Porter
Author of "Pollyanna: The Glad Book." "Miss Billy," Trade----Mark
"Miss Billy's Decision," "Miss Billy--Married," "Cross Currents," "The
Turn of the Tide," etc.
Illustrated by
H. Weston Taylor

To My Cousin Walter

CONTENTS
I. Della Speaks Her Mind II. Some Old Friends III. A Dose Of

Pollyanna IV. The Game And Mrs. Carew V. Pollyanna Takes A Walk
VI. Jerry To The Rescue VII. A New Acquaintance VIII. Jamie IX.
Plans And Plottings X. In Murphy's Alley XI. A Surprise For Mrs.
Carew XII. From Behind A Counter XIII. A Waiting And A Winning
XIV. Jimmy And The Green-Eyed Monster XV. Aunt Polly Takes
Alarm XVI. When Pollyanna Was Expected XVII. When Pollyanna
Came XVIII. A Matter Of Adjustment XIX. Two Letters XX. The
Paying Guests XXI. Summer Days XXII. Comrades XXIII. "Tied To
Two Sticks" XXIV. Jimmy Wakes Up XXV. The Game And Pollyanna
XXVI. John Pendleton XXVII. The Day Pollyanna Did Not Play
XXVIII. Jimmy And Jamie XXIX. Jimmy And John XXX. John
Pendleton Turns The Key XXXI. After Long Years XXXII. A New
Aladdin

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"Jimmy looked down at the wistful, eager face" "'Oh, my! What a
perfectly lovely automobile!'" "Twice again, after short intervals, she
trod the fascinating way" "It was a wonderful hour" "'I don't know her
name yet, but I know HER, so it's all right'" "'The instrument that you
play on, Pollyanna, will be the great heart of the world'" "Involuntarily
she turned as if to flee" "'I'm glad, GLAD, GLAD for--everything
now!'"
CHAPTER I
DELLA SPEAKS HER MIND
Della Wetherby tripped up the somewhat imposing steps of her sister's
Commonwealth Avenue home and pressed an energetic finger against
the electric-bell button. From the tip of her wing-trimmed hat to the toe
of her low-heeled shoe she radiated health, capability, and alert
decision. Even her voice, as she greeted the maid that opened the door,
vibrated with the joy of living.
"Good morning, Mary. Is my sister in?"

"Y-yes, ma'am, Mrs. Carew is in," hesitated the girl; "but--she gave
orders she'd see no one."
"Did she? Well, I'm no one," smiled Miss Wetherby, "so she'll see me.
Don't worry--I'll take the blame," she nodded, in answer to the
frightened remonstrance in the girl's eyes. "Where is she--in her
sitting-room?"
"Y-yes, ma'am; but--that is, she said--" Miss Wetherby, however, was
already halfway up the broad stairway; and, with a despairing backward
glance, the maid turned away.
In the hall above Della Wetherby unhesitatingly walked toward a
half-open door, and knocked.
"Well, Mary," answered a "dear-me-what-now" voice. "Haven't I--Oh,
Della!" The voice grew suddenly warm with love and surprise. "You
dear girl, where did you come from?"
"Yes, it's Della," smiled that young woman, blithely, already halfway
across the room. "I've come from an over-Sunday at the beach with two
of the other nurses, and I'm on my way back to the Sanatorium now.
That is, I'm here now, but I sha'n't be long. I stepped in for--this," she
finished, giving the owner of the "dear-me-what-now" voice a hearty
kiss.
Mrs. Carew frowned and drew back a little coldly. The slight touch of
joy and animation that had come into her face fled, leaving only a
dispirited fretfulness that was plainly very much at home there.
"Oh, of course! I might have known," she said. "You never