On the day after John Pendleton's call at the Harrington homestead, Miss
Polly set herself to the task of preparing Pollyanna for the visit of
the specialist.
“Pollyanna, my dear,” she began gently, “we have decided that we want
another doctor besides Dr. Warren to see you. Another one might tell us
something new to do--to help you get well faster, you know.”
A joyous light came to Pollyanna's face.
“Dr. Chilton! Oh, Aunt Polly, I'd so love to have Dr. Chilton! I've
wanted him all the time, but I was afraid you didn't, on account of his
seeing you in the sun parlor that day, you know; so I didn't like to say
anything. But I'm so glad you do want him!”
Aunt Polly's face had turned white, then red, then back to white again.
But when she answered, she showed very plainly that she was trying to
speak lightly and cheerfully.
“Oh, no, dear! It wasn't Dr. Chilton at all that I meant. It is a new
doctor--a very famous doctor from New York, who--who knows a great deal
about--about hurts like yours.”
Pollyanna's face fell.
“I don't believe he knows half so much as Dr. Chilton.”
“Oh, yes, he does, I'm sure, dear.”
“But it was Dr. Chilton who doctored Mr. Pendleton's broken leg,
Aunt Polly. If--if you don't mind VERY much, I WOULD LIKE to have Dr.
Chilton--truly I would!”
A distressed color suffused Miss Polly's face. For a moment she did not
speak at all; then she said gently--though yet with a touch of her old
stern decisiveness:
“But I do mind, Pollyanna. I mind very much. I would do anything--almost
anything for you, my dear; but I--for reasons which I do not care to
speak of now, I don't wish Dr. Chilton called in on--on this case. And
believe me, he can NOT know so much about--about your trouble, as this
great doctor does, who will come from New York to-morrow.”
Pollyanna still looked unconvinced.
“But, Aunt Polly, if you LOVED Dr. Chilton--”
“WHAT, Pollyanna?” Aunt Polly's voice was very sharp now. Her cheeks
were very red, too.
“I say, if you loved Dr. Chilton, and didn't love the other one,” sighed
Pollyanna, “seems to me that would make some difference in the good he
would do; and I love Dr. Chilton.”
The nurse entered the room at that moment, and Aunt Polly rose to her
feet abruptly, a look of relief on her face.
“I am very sorry, Pollyanna,” she said, a little stiffly; “but I'm
afraid you'll have to let me be the judge, this time. Besides, it's
already arranged. The New York doctor is coming to-morrow.”
As it happened, however, the New York doctor did not come “to-morrow.”
At the last moment a telegram told of an unavoidable delay owing to
the sudden illness of the specialist himself. This led Pollyanna into a
renewed pleading for the substitution of Dr. Chilton--“which would be so
easy now, you know.”
But as before, Aunt Polly shook her head and said “no, dear,” very
decisively, yet with a still more anxious assurance that she would do
anything--anything but that--to please her dear Pollyanna.
As the days of waiting passed, one by one, it did indeed, seem that Aunt
Polly was doing everything (but that) that she could do to please her
niece.
“I wouldn't 'a' believed it--you couldn't 'a' made me believe it,” Nancy
said to Old Tom one morning. “There don't seem ter be a minute in the
day that Miss Polly ain't jest hangin' 'round waitin' ter do somethin'
for that blessed lamb if 'tain't more than ter let in the cat--an' her
what wouldn't let Fluff nor Buff up-stairs for love nor money a week
ago; an' now she lets 'em tumble all over the bed jest 'cause it pleases
Miss Pollyanna!
“An' when she ain't doin' nothin' else, she's movin' them little glass
danglers 'round ter diff'rent winders in the room so the sun'll make
the 'rainbows dance,' as that blessed child calls it. She's sent Timothy
down ter Cobb's greenhouse three times for fresh flowers--an' that
besides all the posies fetched in ter her, too. An' the other day, if I
didn't find her sittin' 'fore the bed with the nurse actually doin' her
hair, an' Miss Pollyanna lookin' on an' bossin' from the bed, her eyes
all shinin' an' happy. An' I declare ter goodness, if Miss Polly hain't
wore her hair like that every day now--jest ter please that blessed
child!”
Old Tom chuckled.
“Well, it strikes me Miss Polly herself ain't lookin' none the
worse--for wearin' them 'ere curls 'round her forehead,” he observed
dryly.
“'Course she ain't,” retorted Nancy, indignantly. “She looks like
FOLKS, now. She's actually almost--”
“Keerful, now, Nancy!” interrupted the old man, with a slow grin. “You
know what you said when I told ye she was handsome once.”
Nancy shrugged her shoulders.
“Oh, she ain't handsome, of course; but I will own up she don't look
like the same woman, what with the ribbons an' lace jiggers Miss
Pollyanna makes her wear 'round her neck.”
“I told ye so,” nodded the man. “I told ye she wa'n't--old.”
Nancy laughed.
“Well, I'll own up she HAIN'T got quite so good an imitation of it--as
she did have, 'fore Miss Pollyanna come. Say, Mr. Tom, who WAS her A
lover? I hain't found that out, yet; I hain't, I hain't!”
“Hain't ye?” asked the old man, with an odd look on his face. “Well, I
guess ye won't then from me.”
“Oh, Mr. Tom, come on, now,” wheedled the girl. “Ye see, there ain't
many folks here that I CAN ask.”
“Maybe not. But there's one, anyhow, that ain't answerin',” grinned
Old Tom. Then, abruptly, the light died from his eyes. “How is she,
ter-day--the little gal?”
Nancy shook her head. Her face, too, had sobered.
“Just the same, Mr. Tom. There ain't no special diff'rence, as I can
see--or anybody, I guess. She jest lays there an' sleeps an' talks some,
an' tries ter smile an' be 'glad' 'cause the sun sets or the moon rises,
or some other such thing, till it's enough ter make yer heart break with
achin'.”
“I know; it's the 'game'--bless her sweet heart!” nodded Old Tom,
blinking a little.
“She told YOU, then, too, about that 'ere--game?”
“Oh, yes. She told me long ago.” The old man hesitated, then went on,
his lips twitching a little. “I was growlin' one day 'cause I was so
bent up and crooked; an' what do ye s'pose the little thing said?”
“I couldn't guess. I wouldn't think she could find ANYTHIN' about THAT
ter be glad about!”
“She did. She said I could be glad, anyhow, that I didn't have ter STOOP
SO FAR TER DO MY WEEDIN' 'cause I was already bent part way over.”
Nancy gave a wistful laugh.
“Well, I ain't surprised, after all. You might know she'd find
somethin'. We've been playin' it--that game--since almost the first,
'cause there wa'n't no one else she could play it with--though she did
speak of--her aunt.”
“MISS POLLY!”
Nancy chuckled.
“I guess you hain't got such an awful diff'rent opinion o' the mistress
than I have,” she bridled.
Old Tom stiffened.
“I was only thinkin' 'twould be--some of a surprise--to her,” he
explained with dignity.
“Well, yes, I guess 'twould be--THEN,” retorted Nancy. “I ain't sayin'
what 'twould be NOW. I'd believe anythin' o' the mistress now--even that
she'd take ter playin' it herself!”
“But hain't the little gal told her--ever? She's told ev'ry one else,
I guess. I'm hearin' of it ev'rywhere, now, since she was hurted,” said
Tom.
“Well, she didn't tell Miss Polly,” rejoined Nancy. “Miss Pollyanna told
me long ago that she couldn't tell her, 'cause her aunt didn't like ter
have her talk about her father; an' 'twas her father's game, an' she'd
have ter talk about him if she did tell it. So she never told her.”
“Oh, I see, I see.” The old man nodded his head slowly. “They was always
bitter against the minister chap--all of 'em, 'cause he took Miss Jennie
away from 'em. An' Miss Polly--young as she was--couldn't never forgive
him; she was that fond of Miss Jennie--in them days. I see, I see. 'Twas
a bad mess,” he sighed, as he turned away.
“Yes, 'twas--all 'round, all 'round,” sighed Nancy in her turn, as she
went back to her kitchen.
For no one were those days of waiting easy. The nurse tried to look
cheerful, but her eyes were troubled. The doctor was openly nervous and
impatient. Miss Polly said little; but even the softening waves of hair
about her face, and the becoming laces at her throat, could not hide
the fact that she was growing thin and pale. As to Pollyanna--Pollyanna
petted the dog, smoothed the cat's sleek head, admired the flowers
and ate the fruits and jellies that were sent in to her; and returned
innumerable cheery answers to the many messages of love and inquiry that
were brought to her bedside. But she, too, grew pale and thin; and the
nervous activity of the poor little hands and arms only emphasized the
pitiful motionlessness of the once active little feet and legs now lying
so woefully quiet under the blankets.
As to the game--Pollyanna told Nancy these days how glad she was going
to be when she could go to school again, go to see Mrs. Snow, go to call
on Mr. Pendleton, and go to ride with Dr. Chilton nor did she seem to
realize that all this “gladness” was in the future, not the present.
Nancy, however, did realize it--and cry about it, when she was alone.