It certainly had not helped matters any that the boy had divined her state of mind, and had given as the reason for his refusal that she "did not care." To be sure, Mrs. Carew now very proudly told herself that she did not indeed "care," that he was NOT her sister's boy, and that she would "forget all about it."
But she did not forget all about it. However insistently4 she might disclaim5 responsibility and relationship, just as insistently responsibility and relationship thrust themselves upon her in the shape of panicky doubts; and however resolutely6 she turned her thoughts to other matters, just so resolutely visions of a wistful-eyed boy in a poverty-stricken room loomed7 always before her.
Then, too, there was Pollyanna. Clearly Pollyanna was not herself at all. In a most unPollyanna-like spirit she moped about the house, finding apparently8 no interest anywhere.
"Oh, no, I'm not sick," she would answer, when remonstrated9 with, and questioned.
"But what IS the trouble?"
"Why, nothing. It—it's only that I was thinking of Jamie, you know,—how HE hasn't got all these beautiful things—carpets, and pictures, and curtains."
It was the same with her food. Pollyanna was actually losing her appetite; but here again she disclaimed10 sickness.
"Oh, no," she would sigh mournfully. "It's just that I don't seem hungry. Some way, just as soon as I begin to eat, I think of Jamie, and how HE doesn't have only old doughnuts and dry rolls; and then I—I don't want anything."
Mrs. Carew, spurred by a feeling that she herself only dimly understood, and recklessly determined11 to bring about some change in Pollyanna at all costs, ordered a huge tree, two dozen wreaths, and quantities of holly12 and Christmas baubles13. For the first time in many years the house was aflame and aglitter with scarlet14 and tinsel. There was even to be a Christmas party, for Mrs. Carew had told Pollyanna to invite half a dozen of her schoolgirl friends for the tree on Christmas Eve.
But even here Mrs. Carew met with disappointment; for, though Pollyanna was always grateful, and at times interested and even excited, she still carried frequently a sober little face. And in the end the Christmas party was more of a sorrow than a joy; for the first glimpse of the glittering tree sent her into a storm of sobs15.
"Why, Pollyanna!" ejaculated Mrs. Carew. "What in the world is the matter now?"
"N-n-nothing," wept Pollyanna. "It's only that it's so perfectly16, perfectly beautiful that I just had to cry. I was thinking how Jamie would love to see it."
It was then that Mrs. Carew's patience snapped.
"'Jamie, Jamie, Jamie'!" she exclaimed. "Pollyanna, CAN'T you stop talking about that boy? You know perfectly well that it is not my fault that he is not here. I asked him to come here to live. Besides, where is that glad game of yours? I think it would be an excellent idea if you would play it on this."
"I AM playing it," quavered Pollyanna. "And that's what I don't understand. I never knew it to act so funny. Why, before, when I've been glad about things, I've been happy. But now, about Jamie—I'm so glad I've got carpets and pictures and nice things to eat, and that I can walk and run, and go to school, and all that; but the harder I'm glad for myself, the sorrier I am for him. I never knew the game to act so funny, and I don't know what ails17 it. Do you?"
But Mrs. Carew, with a despairing gesture, merely turned away without a word.
It was the day after Christmas that something so wonderful happened that Pollyanna, for a time, almost forgot Jamie. Mrs. Carew had taken her shopping, and it was while Mrs. Carew was trying to decide between a duchesse-lace and a point-lace collar, that Pollyanna chanced to spy farther down the counter a face that looked vaguely18 familiar. For a moment she regarded it frowningly; then, with a little cry, she ran down the aisle19.
"Oh, it's you—it IS you!" she exclaimed joyously20 to a girl who was putting into the show case a tray of pink bows. "I'm so glad to see you!"
The girl behind the counter lifted her head and stared at Pollyanna in amazement21. But almost immediately her dark, somber22 face lighted with a smile of glad recognition.
"Well, well, if it isn't my little Public Garden kiddie!" she ejaculated.
"Yes. I'm so glad you remembered," beamed Pollyanna. "But you never came again. I looked for you lots of times."
"I couldn't. I had to work. That was our last half-holiday, and—Fifty cents, madam," she broke off, in answer to a sweet-faced old lady's question as to the price of a black-and-white bow on the counter.
"Fifty cents? Hm-m!" The old lady fingered the bow, hesitated, then laid it down with a sigh. "Hm, yes; well, it's very pretty, I'm sure, my dear," she said, as she passed on.
Immediately behind her came two bright-faced girls who, with much giggling23 and bantering24, picked out a jeweled creation of scarlet velvet25, and a fairy-like structure of tulle and pink buds. As the girls turned chattering26 away Pollyanna drew an ecstatic sigh.
"Is this what you do all day? My, how glad you must be you chose this!"
"GLAD!"
"Yes. It must be such fun—such lots of folks, you know, and all different! And you can talk to 'em. You HAVE to talk to 'em—it's your business. I should love that. I think I'll do this when I grow up. It must be such fun to see what they all buy!"
"Fun! Glad!" bristled27 the girl behind the counter. "Well, child, I guess if you knew half—That's a dollar, madam," she interrupted herself hastily, in answer to a young woman's sharp question as to the price of a flaring28 yellow bow of beaded velvet in the show case.
"Well, I should think 'twas time you told me," snapped the young woman. "I had to ask you twice."
The girl behind the counter bit her lip.
"I didn't hear you, madam."
"I can't help that. It is your business TO hear. You are paid for it, aren't you? How much is that black one?"
"Fifty cents."
"And that blue one?"
"One dollar."
"No impudence29, miss! You needn't be so short about it, or I shall report you. Let me see that tray of pink ones."
The salesgirl's lips opened, then closed in a thin, straight line. Obediently she reached into the show case and took out the tray of pink bows; but her eyes flashed, and her hands shook visibly as she set the tray down on the counter. The young woman whom she was serving picked up five bows, asked the price of four of them, then turned away with a brief:
"I see nothing I care for."
"Well," said the girl behind the counter, in a shaking voice, to the wide-eyed Pollyanna, "what do you think of my business now? Anything to be glad about there?"
"My, wasn't she cross? But she was kind of funny, too—don't you think? Anyhow, you can be glad that—that they aren't ALL like HER, can't you?"
"I suppose so," said the girl, with a faint smile, "But I can tell you right now, kiddie, that glad game of yours you was tellin' me about that day in the Garden may be all very well for you; but—" Once more she stopped with a tired: "Fifty cents, madam," in answer to a question from the other side of the counter.
"Are you as lonesome as ever?" asked Pollyanna wistfully, when the salesgirl was at liberty again.
"Well, I can't say I've given more'n five parties, nor been to more'n seven, since I saw you," replied the girl so bitterly that Pollyanna detected the sarcasm32.
"Oh, but you did something nice Christmas, didn't you?"
"Oh, yes. I stayed in bed all day with my feet done up in rags and read four newspapers and one magazine. Then at night I hobbled out to a restaurant where I had to blow in thirty-five cents for chicken pie instead of a quarter."
"Oh!" shuddered35 Pollyanna, sympathetically. "And you didn't have any tree, or party, or anything?" she cried, distressed36 and shocked.
"Well, hardly!"
"O dear! How I wish you could have seen mine!" sighed the little girl. "It was just lovely, and—But, oh, say!" she exclaimed joyously. "You can see it, after all. It isn't gone yet. Now, can't you come out to-night, or to-morrow night, and—"
"PollyANNA!" interrupted Mrs. Carew in her chilliest37 accents. "What in the world does this mean? Where have you been? I have looked everywhere for you. I even went 'way back to the suit department."
Pollyanna turned with a happy little cry.
"Oh, Mrs. Carew, I'm so glad you've come," she rejoiced. "This is—well, I don't know her name yet, but I know HER, so it's all right. I met her in the Public Garden ever so long ago. And she's lonesome, and doesn't know anybody. And her father was a minister like mine, only he's alive. And she didn't have any Christmas tree only blistered feet and chicken pie; and I want her to see mine, you know—the tree, I mean," plunged38 on Pollyanna, breathlessly. "I've asked her to come out to-night, or to-morrow night. And you'll let me have it all lighted up again, won't you?"
[Illustration: "'I don't know her name yet, but I know HER, so it's all right'"]
"Well, really, Pollyanna," began Mrs. Carew, in cold disapproval39. But the girl behind the counter interrupted with a voice quite as cold, and even more disapproving40.
"Don't worry, madam. I've no notion of goin'."
"Oh, but PLEASE," begged Pollyanna. "You don't know how I want you, and—"
"I notice the lady ain't doin' any askin'," interrupted the salesgirl, a little maliciously41.
Mrs. Carew flushed an angry red, and turned as if to go; but Pollyanna caught her arm and held it, talking meanwhile almost frenziedly to the girl behind the counter, who happened, at the moment, to be free from customers.
"Oh, but she will, she will," Pollyanna was saying. "She wants you to come—I know she does. Why, you don't know how good she is, and how much money she gives to—to charitable 'sociations and everything."
"PollyANNA!" remonstrated Mrs. Carew, sharply. Once more she would have gone, but this time she was held spellbound by the ringing scorn in the low, tense voice of the salesgirl.
"Oh, yes, I know! There's lots of 'em that'll give to RESCUE work. There's always plenty of helpin' hands stretched out to them that has gone wrong. And that's all right. I ain't findin' no fault with that. Only sometimes I wonder there don't some of 'em think of helpin' the girls BEFORE they go wrong. Why don't they give GOOD girls pretty homes with books and pictures and soft carpets and music, and somebody 'round 'em to care? Maybe then there wouldn't be so many—Good heavens, what am I sayin'?" she broke off, under her breath. Then, with the old weariness, she turned to a young woman who had stopped before her and picked up a blue bow.
"That's fifty cents, madam," Mrs. Carew heard, as she hurried
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1
lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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unbearable
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| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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insistently
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| ad.坚持地 | |
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disclaim
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| v.放弃权利，拒绝承认 | |
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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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8
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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9
remonstrated
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
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disclaimed
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| v.否认( disclaim的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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holly
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| n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
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baubles
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| n.小玩意( bauble的名词复数 )；华而不实的小件装饰品；无价值的东西；丑角的手杖 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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15
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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17
ails
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| v.生病( ail的第三人称单数 )；感到不舒服；处境困难；境况不佳 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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somber
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| adj.昏暗的，阴天的，阴森的，忧郁的 | |
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giggling
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
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bantering
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| adj.嘲弄的v.开玩笑，说笑，逗乐( banter的现在分词 )；（善意地）取笑，逗弄 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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27
bristled
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| adj. 直立的，多刺毛的 动词bristle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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flaring
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| a.火焰摇曳的，过份艳丽的 | |
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impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hysterically
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| ad. 歇斯底里地 | |
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32
sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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33
ailed
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| v.生病( ail的过去式和过去分词 )；感到不舒服；处境困难；境况不佳 | |
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blistered
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| adj.水疮状的，泡状的v.（使）起水泡( blister的过去式和过去分词 )；（使表皮等）涨破，爆裂 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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chilliest
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| adj.寒冷的，冷得难受的( chilly的最高级 ) | |
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38
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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39
disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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disapproving
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| adj.不满的，反对的v.不赞成( disapprove的现在分词 ) | |
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maliciously
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| adv.有敌意地 | |
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