“I've never been to your home before! This IS your home, isn't it?” she said, looking interestedly about her.
The doctor smiled a little sadly.
“Yes—such as 'tis,” he answered, as he wrote something on the pad of paper in his hand; “but it's a pretty poor apology for a home, Pollyanna. They're just rooms, that's all—not a home.”
Pollyanna nodded her head wisely. Her eyes glowed with sympathetic understanding.
“I know. It takes a woman's hand and heart, or a child's presence to make a home,” she said.
“Mr. Pendleton told me,” nodded Pollyanna, again; “about the woman's hand and heart, or the child's presence, you know. Why don't you get a woman's hand and heart, Dr. Chilton? Or maybe you'd take Jimmy Bean—if Mr. Pendleton doesn't want him.”
Dr. Chilton laughed a little constrainedly3.
“So Mr. Pendleton says it takes a woman's hand and heart to make a home, does he?” he asked evasively.
“Yes. He says his is just a house, too. Why don't you, Dr. Chilton?”
“Why don't I—what?” The doctor had turned back to his desk.
“Get a woman's hand and heart. Oh—and I forgot.” Pollyanna's face showed suddenly a painful color. “I suppose I ought to tell you. It wasn't Aunt Polly that Mr. Pendleton loved long ago; and so we—we aren't going there to live. You see, I told you it was—but I made a mistake. I hope YOU didn't tell any one,” she finished anxiously.
“No—I didn't tell any one, Pollyanna,” replied the doctor, a little queerly.
“Oh, that's all right, then,” sighed Pollyanna in relief. “You see you're the only one I told, and I thought Mr. Pendleton looked sort of funny when I said I'd told YOU.”
“Yes. And of course he wouldn't want many people to know it—when 'twasn't true. But why don't you get a woman's hand and heart, Dr. Chilton?”
There was a moment's silence; then very gravely the doctor said:
“They're not always to be had—for the asking, little girl.”
Pollyanna frowned thoughtfully.
“But I should think you could get 'em,” she argued. The flattering emphasis was unmistakable.
“Thank you,” laughed the doctor, with uplifted eyebrows6. Then, gravely again: “I'm afraid some of your older sisters would not be quite so—confident. At least, they—they haven't shown themselves to be so—obliging,” he observed.
Pollyanna frowned again. Then her eyes widened in surprise.
“Why, Dr. Chilton, you don't mean—you didn't try to get somebody's hand and heart once, like Mr. Pendleton, and—and couldn't, did you?”
The doctor got to his feet a little abruptly.
“There, there, Pollyanna, never mind about that now. Don't let other people's troubles worry your little head. Suppose you run back now to Mrs. Snow. I've written down the name of the medicine, and the directions how she is to take it. Was there anything else?”
Pollyanna shook her head.
“No, Sir; thank you, Sir,” she murmured soberly, as she turned toward the door. From the little hallway she called back, her face suddenly alight: “Anyhow, I'm glad 'twasn't my mother's hand and heart that you wanted and couldn't get, Dr. Chilton. Good-by!”
It was on the last day of October that the accident occurred. Pollyanna, hurrying home from school, crossed the road at an apparently7 safe distance in front of a swiftly approaching motor car.
Just what happened, no one could seem to tell afterward8. Neither was there any one found who could tell why it happened or who was to blame that it did happen. Pollyanna, however, at five o'clock, was borne, limp and unconscious, into the little room that was so dear to her. There, by a white-faced Aunt Polly and a weeping Nancy she was undressed tenderly and put to bed, while from the village, hastily summoned by telephone, Dr. Warren was hurrying as fast as another motor car could bring him.
“And ye didn't need ter more'n look at her aunt's face,” Nancy was sobbing9 to Old Tom in the garden, after the doctor had arrived and was closeted in the hushed room; “ye didn't need ter more'n look at her aunt's face ter see that 'twa'n't no duty that was eatin' her. Yer hands don't shake, and yer eyes don't look as if ye was tryin' ter hold back the Angel o' Death himself, when you're jest doin' yer DUTY, Mr. Tom they don't, they don't!”
“Is she hurt—bad?” The old man's voice shook.
“There ain't no tellin',” sobbed10 Nancy. “She lay back that white an' still she might easy be dead; but Miss Polly said she wa'n't dead—an' Miss Polly had oughter know, if any one would—she kept up such a listenin' an' a feelin' for her heartbeats an' her breath!”
“Couldn't ye tell anythin' what it done to her?—that—that—” Old Tom's face worked convulsively.
Nancy's lips relaxed a little.
“I wish ye WOULD call it somethin', Mr. Tom an' somethin' good an' strong, too. Drat it! Ter think of its runnin' down our little girl! I always hated the evil-smellin' things, anyhow—I did, I did!”
“But where is she hurt?”
“I don't know, I don't know,” moaned Nancy. “There's a little cut on her blessed head, but 'tain't bad—that ain't—Miss Polly says. She says she's afraid it's infernally she's hurt.”
“I guess you mean internally, Nancy,” he said dryly. “She's hurt infernally, all right—plague take that autymobile!—but I don't guess Miss Polly'd be usin' that word, all the same.”
“Eh? Well, I don't know, I don't know,” moaned Nancy, with a shake of her head as she turned away. “Seems as if I jest couldn't stand it till that doctor gits out o' there. I wish I had a washin' ter do—the biggest washin' I ever see, I do, I do!” she wailed12, wringing13 her hands helplessly.
Even after the doctor was gone, however, there seemed to be little that Nancy could tell Mr. Tom. There appeared to be no bones broken, and the cut was of slight consequence; but the doctor had looked very grave, had shaken his head slowly, and had said that time alone could tell. After he had gone, Miss Polly had shown a face even whiter and more drawn14 looking than before. The patient had not fully5 recovered consciousness, but at present she seemed to be resting as comfortably as could be expected. A trained nurse had been sent for, and would come that night. That was all. And Nancy turned sobbingly15, and went back to her kitchen.
It was sometime during the next forenoon that Pollyanna opened conscious eyes and realized where she was.
“Why, Aunt Polly, what's the matter? Isn't it daytime? Why don't I get up?” she cried. “Why, Aunt Polly, I can't get up,” she moaned, falling back on the pillow, after an ineffectual attempt to lift herself.
“But what is the matter? Why can't I get up?”
Miss Polly's eyes asked an agonized17 question of the white-capped young woman standing1 in the window, out of the range of Pollyanna's eyes.
The young woman nodded.
“Tell her,” the lips said.
Miss Polly cleared her throat, and tried to swallow the lump that would scarcely let her speak.
“You were hurt, dear, by the automobile18 last night. But never mind that now. Auntie wants you to rest and go to sleep again.”
“Hurt? Oh, yes; I—I ran.” Pollyanna's eyes were dazed. She lifted her hand to her forehead. “Why, it's—done up, and it—hurts!”
“Yes, dear; but never mind. Just—just rest.”
“But, Aunt Polly, I feel so funny, and so bad! My legs feel so—so queer—only they don't FEEL—at all!”
With an imploring19 look into the nurse's face, Miss Polly struggled to her feet, and turned away. The nurse came forward quickly.
“Suppose you let me talk to you now,” she began cheerily. “I'm sure I think it's high time we were getting acquainted, and I'm going to introduce myself. I am Miss Hunt, and I've come to help your aunt take care of you. And the very first thing I'm going to do is to ask you to swallow these little white pills for me.”
Pollyanna's eyes grew a bit wild.
“But I don't want to be taken care of—that is, not for long! I want to get up. You know I go to school. Can't I go to school to-morrow?”
From the window where Aunt Polly stood now there came a half-stifled cry.
“To-morrow?” smiled the nurse, brightly.
“Well, I may not let you out quite so soon as that, Miss Pollyanna. But just swallow these little pills for me, please, and we'll see what THEY'LL do.”
“All right,” agreed Pollyanna, somewhat doubtfully; “but I MUST go to school day after to-morrow—there are examinations then, you know.”
She spoke20 again, a minute later. She spoke of school, and of the automobile, and of how her head ached; but very soon her voice trailed into silence under the blessed influence of the little white pills she had swallowed.
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1
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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2
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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3
constrainedly
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| 不自然地，勉强地，强制地 | |
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4
twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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5
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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6
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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7
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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8
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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9
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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10
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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12
wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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13
wringing
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| 淋湿的，湿透的 | |
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14
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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15
sobbingly
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| 啜泣地，呜咽地，抽抽噎噎地 | |
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16
soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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17
agonized
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| v.使（极度）痛苦，折磨( agonize的过去式和过去分词 )；苦斗；苦苦思索；感到极度痛苦 | |
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18
automobile
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| n.汽车，机动车 | |
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19
imploring
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| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
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20
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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