Pollyanna | Page 7

nobody knows what'll become of the rest of us,"
grinned Timothy. "Imagine Miss Polly and a NOISY kid! Gorry! there
goes the whistle now!"
"Oh, Timothy, I--I think it was mean ter send me," chattered the
suddenly frightened Nancy, as she turned and hurried to a point where
she could best watch the passengers alight at the little station.
It was not long before Nancy saw her--the slender little girl in the
red-checked gingham with two fat braids of flaxen hair hanging down
her back. Beneath the straw hat, an eager, freckled little face turned to
the right and to the left, plainly searching for some one.
Nancy knew the child at once, but not for some time could she control
her shaking knees sufficiently to go to her. The little girl was standing
quite by herself when Nancy finally did approach her.
"Are you Miss--Pollyanna?" she faltered. The next moment she found
herself half smothered in the clasp of two gingham-clad arms.
"Oh, I'm so glad, GLAD, GLAD to see you," cried an eager voice in
her ear. "Of course I'm Pollyanna, and I'm so glad you came to meet me!
I hoped you would."
"You--you did?" stammered Nancy, vaguely wondering how Pollyanna
could possibly have known her--and wanted her. "You--you did? she

repeated, trying to straighten her hat.
"Oh, yes; and I've been wondering all the way here what you looked
like," cried the little girl, dancing on her toes, and sweeping the
embarrassed Nancy from head to foot, with her eyes. "And now I know,
and I'm glad you look just like you do look."
Nancy was relieved just then to have Timothy come up. Pollyanna's
words had been most confusing.
"This is Timothy. Maybe you have a trunk," she stammered.
"Yes, I have," nodded Pollyanna, importantly. "I've got a brand-new
one. The Ladies' Aid bought it for me--and wasn't it lovely of them,
when they wanted the carpet so? Of course I don't know how much red
carpet a trunk could buy, but it ought to buy some, anyhow--much as
half an aisle, don't you think? I've got a little thing here in my bag that
Mr. Gray said was a check, and that I must give it to you before I could
get my trunk. Mr. Gray is Mrs. Gray's husband. They're cousins of
Deacon Carr's wife. I came East with them, and they're lovely!
And--there, here 'tis," she finished, producing the check after much
fumbling in the bag she carried.
Nancy drew a long breath. Instinctively she felt that some one had to
draw one--after that speech. Then she stole a glance at Timothy.
Timothy's eyes were studiously turned away.
The three were off at last, with Pollyanna's trunk in behind, and
Pollyanna herself snugly ensconced between Nancy and Timothy.
During the whole process of getting started, the little girl had kept up
an uninterrupted stream of comments and questions, until the somewhat
dazed Nancy found herself quite out of breath trying to keep up with
her.
"There! Isn't this lovely? Is it far? I hope 'tis--I love to ride," sighed
Pollyanna, as the wheels began to turn. "Of course, if 'tisn't far, I sha'n't
mind, though, 'cause I'll be glad to get there all the sooner, you know.
What a pretty street! I knew 'twas going to be pretty; father told me--"

She stopped with a little choking breath. Nancy, looking at her
apprehensively, saw that her small chin was quivering, and that her
eyes were full of tears. In a moment, however, she hurried on, with a
brave lifting of her head.
"Father told me all about it. He remembered. And--and I ought to have
explained before. Mrs. Gray told me to, at once--about this red
gingham dress, you know, and why I'm not in black. She said you'd
think 'twas queer. But there weren't any black things in the last
missionary barrel, only a lady's velvet basque which Deacon Carr's
wife said wasn't suitable for me at all; besides, it had white spots--worn,
you know--on both elbows, and some other places. Part of the Ladies'
Aid wanted to buy me a black dress and hat, but the other part thought
the money ought to go toward the red carpet they're trying to get--for
the church, you know. Mrs. White said maybe it was just as well,
anyway, for she didn't like children in black--that is, I mean, she liked
the children, of course, but not the black part."
Pollyanna paused for breath, and Nancy managed to stammer:
"Well, I'm sure it--it'll be all right."
"I'm glad you feel that way. I do, too," nodded Pollyanna, again with
that choking little breath. "Of course, 'twould have been a good deal
harder to be glad in black--"
"Glad!" gasped Nancy, surprised into an interruption.
"Yes--that