Chapter II
Old Tom and Nancy
In the little attic room Nancy swept and scrubbed vigorously, paying particular attention to the corners. There were times, indeed, when the vigor she put into her work was more of a relief to her feelings than it was an ardor to efface dirt-Nancy, in spite of her frightened submission to her mistress, was no saint.
I-just-wish-I could-dig-out the corners-of-her-soul! she muttered jerkily, punctuating her words with murderous jabs of her pointed cleaning-stick. Theres plenty of em needs cleanin all right, all right! The idea of stickin that blessed child way off up here in this hot little room-with no fire in the winter, too, and all this big house ter pick and choose from! Unnecessary children, indeed! Humph! snapped Nancy, wringing her rag so hard her fingers ached from the strain; I guess it aint CHILDREN what is MOST unnecessary just now, just now!
For some time she worked in silence; then, her task finished, she looked about the bare little room in plain disgust.
Well, its done-my part, anyhow, she sighed. There aint no dirt here-and theres mighty little else. Poor little soul! a pretty place this is ter put a homesick, lonesome child into! she finished, going out and closing the door with a bang, Oh! she ejaculated, biting her lip. Then, doggedly: Well, I dont care. I hope she did hear the bang, I do, I do!
In the garden that afternoon, Nancy found a few minutes in which to interview Old Tom, who had pulled the weeds and shovelled the paths about the place for uncounted years.
Mr. Tom, began Nancy, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure she was unobserved; did you know a little girl was comin here ter live with Miss Polly?
A-what? demanded the old man, straightening his bent back with difficulty.
A little girl-to live with Miss Polly.
Go on with yer jokin, scoffed unbelieving Tom. Why dont ye tell me the sun is a-goin ter set in the east ter-morrer?
But its true. She told me so herself, maintained Nancy. Its her niece; and shes eleven years old.
The mans jaw fell.
Sho! I wonder, now, he muttered; then a tender light came into his faded eyes. It aint-but it must be-Miss Jennies little gal! There wasnt none of the rest of em married. Why, Nancy, it must be Miss Jennies little gal. Glory be ter praise! ter think of my old eyes a-seein this!
Who was Miss Jennie?
She was an angel straight out of Heaven, breathed the man, fervently; but the old master and missus knew her as their oldest daughter. She was twenty when she married and went away from here long years ago. Her babies all died, I heard, except the last one; and that must be the one whats a-comin.
Shes eleven years old.
Yes, she might be, nodded the old man.
And shes goin ter sleep in the attic-more shame ter HER! scolded Nancy, with another glance over her shoulder toward the house behind her.
Old Tom frowned. The next moment a curious smile curved his lips.
Im a-wonderin what Miss Polly will do with a child in the house, he said.
Humph! Well, Im a-wonderin what a child will do with Miss Polly in the house! snapped Nancy.
The old man laughed.
Im afraid you aint fond of Miss Polly, he grinned.
As if ever anybody could be fond of her! scorned Nancy.
Old Tom smiled oddly. He stooped and began to work again.
I guess maybe you didnt know about Miss Pollys love affair, he said slowly.
Love affair-HER! No! and I guess nobody else didnt, neither.
Oh, yes they did, nodded the old man. And the fellers livin ter-day-right in this town, too.
Who is he?
I aint a-tellin that. It aint fit that I should. The old man drew himself erect. In his dim blue eyes, as he faced the house, there was the loyal servants honest pride in the family he has served and loved for long years.
But it dont seem possible-her and a lover, still maintained Nancy.
Old Tom shook his head.
You didnt know Miss Polly as I did, he argued. She used ter be real handsome-and she would be now, if shed let herself be.
Handsome! Miss Polly!
Yes. If shed just let that tight hair of hern all out loose and careless-like, as it used ter be, and wear the sort of bunnits with posies in em, and the kind o dresses all lace and white things-youd see shed be handsome! Miss Polly aint old, Nancy.
Aint she, though? Well, then shes got an awfully good imitation of it-she has, she has! sniffed Nancy.
Yes, I know. It begun then-at the time of the trouble with her lover, nodded Old Tom; and it seems as if shed been feedin on wormwood an thistles ever since-shes that bitter an prickly ter deal with.
I should say she was, declared Nancy, indignantly. Theres no pleasin her, nohow, no matter how you try! I wouldnt stay if twant for the wages and the folks at home whats needin em. But some day-some day I shall jest bile over; and when I do, of course itll be good-by Nancy for me. It will, it will.
Old Tom shook his head.
I know. Ive felt it. Its nartral-but taint best, child; taint best. Take my word for it, taint best. And again he bent his old head to the work before him.
Nancy! called a sharp voice.
Y-yes, maam, stammered Nancy; and hurried toward the house.
Chapter III
The coming of pollyanna
In due time came the telegram announcing that Pollyanna would arrive in Beldingsville the next day, the twenty-fifth of June, at four oclock. Miss Polly read the telegram, frowned, then climbed the stairs to the attic room. She still frowned as she looked about her.
The room contained a small bed, neatly made, two straight-backed chairs, a washstand, a bureau-without any mirror-and a small table. There were no drapery curtains at the dormer windows, no pictures on the wall. All day the sun had been pouring down upon the roof, and the little room was like an oven for heat. As there were no screens, the windows had not been raised. A big fly was buzzing angrily at one of them now, up and down, up and down, trying to get out.
Miss Polly killed the fly, swept it through the window (raising the sash an inch for the purpose), straightened a chair, frowned again, and left the room.
Nancy, she said a few minutes later, at the kitchen door, I found a fly upstairs in Miss Pollyannas room. The window must have been raised at some time. I have ordered screens, but until they come I shall expect you to see that the windows remain closed. My niece will arrive tomorrow at four oclock. I desire you to meet her at the station. Timothy will take the open buggy and drive you over. The telegram says light hair, red-checked gingham dress, and straw hat. That is all I know, but I think it is sufficient for your purpose.
Yes, maam; but-you-
Miss Polly evidently read the pause aright, for she frowned and said crisply:
No, I shall not go. It is not necessary that I should, I think. That is all. And she turned away-Miss Pollys arrangements for the comfort of her niece, Pollyanna, were complete.
In the kitchen, Nancy sent her flatiron with a vicious dig across the dishtowel she was ironing.
Light hair, red-checked gingham dress, and straw hat-all she knows, indeed! Well, Id be ashamed ter own it up, that I would, I would-and her my onliest niece what was a-comin from way across the continent!
Promptly at twenty minutes to four the next afternoon Timothy and Nancy drove off in the open buggy to meet the expected guest. Timothy was Old Toms son. It was sometimes said in the town that if Old Tom was Miss Pollys right-hand man, Timothy was her left.
Timothy was a good-natured youth, and a good-looking one, as well. Short as had been Nancys stay at the house, the two were already good friends. Today, however, Nancy was too full of her mission to be her usual talkative self; and almost in silence she took the drive to the station and alighted to wait for the train.
Over and over in her mind she was saying it light hair, red-checked dress, straw hat. Over and over again she was wondering just what sort of child this Pollyanna was, anyway.