No, I dont know Susie Smith, replied Mrs. Carew, dryly.
Dont you? Shes awfully nice, and SHEs pretty black curls, you know; the kind Im going to have when I go to Heaven. But never mind; maybe I can find her for you so you WILL know her. Oh, my! what a perfectly lovely automobile! And are we going to ride in it? broke off Pollyanna, as they came to a pause before a handsome limousine, the door of which a liveried chauffeur was holding open.
The chauffeur tried to hide a smile and failed. Mrs. Carew, however, answered with the weariness of one to whom rides are never anything but a means of locomotion from one tiresome place to another probably quite as tiresome.
Yes, were going to ride in it. Then Home, Perkins, she added to the deferential chauffeur.
Oh, my, is it yours? asked Pollyanna, detecting the unmistakable air of ownership in her hostesss manner. How perfectly lovely! Then you must be rich awfully I mean EXCEEDINGLY rich, more than the kind that just has carpets in every room and ice cream Sundays, like the Whites one of my Ladies Aiders, you know. (That is, SHE was a Ladies Aider.) I used to think THEY were rich, but I know now that being really rich means youve got diamond rings and hired girls and sealskin coats, and dresses made of silk and velvet for every day, and an automobile. Have you got all those?
Why, y-yes, I suppose I have, admitted Mrs. Carew, with a faint smile.
Then you are rich, of course, nodded Pollyanna, wisely. My Aunt Polly has them, too, only her automobile is a horse. My! but dont I just love to ride in these things, exulted Pollyanna, with a happy little bounce. You see I never did before, except the one that ran over me. They put me IN that one after theyd got me out from under it; but of course I didnt know about it, so I couldnt enjoy it. Since then I havent been in one at all. Aunt Polly doesnt like them. Uncle Tom does, though, and he wants one. He says hes got to have one, in his business. Hes a doctor, you know, and all the other doctors in town have got them now. I dont know how it will come out. Aunt Polly is all stirred up over it. You see, she wants Uncle Tom to have what he wants, only she wants him to want what she wants him to want. See?
Mrs. Carew laughed suddenly.
Yes, my dear, I think I see, she answered demurely, though her eyes still carried for them a most unusual twinkle.
All right, sighed Pollyanna contentedly. I thought you would; still, it did sound sort of mixed when I said it. Oh, Aunt Polly says she wouldnt mind having an automobile, so much, if she could have the only one there was in the world, so there wouldnt be any one else to run into her; but My! what a lot of houses! broke off Pollyanna, looking about her with round eyes of wonder. Dont they ever stop? Still, thered have to be a lot of them for all those folks to live in, of course, that I saw at the station, besides all these here on the streets. And of course where there ARE more folks, there are more to know. I love folks. Dont you?
LOVE FOLKS!
Yes, just folks, I mean. Anybody everybody.
Well, no, Pollyanna, I cant say that I do, replied Mrs. Carew, coldly, her brows contracted.
LOVE FOLKS!
Yes, just folks, I mean. Anybody everybody.
Well, no, Pollyanna, I cant say that I do, replied Mrs. Carew, coldly, her brows contracted.
Mrs. Carews eyes had lost their twinkle. They were turned rather mistrustfully, indeed, on Pollyanna. To herself Mrs. Carew was saying: Now for preachment number one, I suppose, on my duty to mix with my fellow-men, à la Sister Della!
Dont you? Oh, I do, sighed Pollyanna. Theyre all so nice and so different, you know. And down here there must be such a lot of them to be nice and different. Oh, you dont know how glad I am so soon that I came! I knew I would be, anyway, just as soon as I found out you were YOU that is, Miss Wetherbys sister, I mean. I love Miss Wetherby, so I knew I should you, too; for of course youd be alike sisters, so even if you werent twins like Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Peck and they werent quite alike, anyway, on account of the wart. But I reckon you dont know what I mean, so Ill tell you.
And thus it happened that Mrs. Carew, who had been steeling herself for a preachment on social ethics, found herself, much to her surprise and a little to her discomfiture, listening to the story of a wart on the nose of one Mrs. Peck, Ladies Aider.
By the time the story was finished the limousine had turned into Commonwealth Avenue, and Pollyanna immediately began to exclaim at the beauty of a street which had such a lovely big long yard all the way up and down through the middle of it, and which was all the nicer, she said, after all those little narrow streets.
Only I should think every one would want to live on it, she commented enthusiastically.
Very likely; but that would hardly be possible, retorted Mrs. Carew, with uplifted eyebrows.
Pollyanna, mistaking the expression on her face for one of dissatisfaction that her own home was not on the beautiful Avenue, hastened to make amends[18].
Why, no, of course not, she agreed. And I didnt mean that the narrower streets werent just as nice, she hurried on; and even better, maybe, because you could be glad you didnt have to go so far when you wanted to run across the way to borrow eggs or soda, and Oh, but DO you live here? she interrupted herself, as the car came to a stop before the imposing Carew doorway. Do you live here, Mrs. Carew?
Why, yes, of course I live here, returned the lady, with just a touch of irritation.
Oh, how glad, GLAD you must be to live in such a perfectly lovely place! exulted the little girl, springing to the sidewalk and looking eagerly about her. Arent you glad?
Mrs. Carew did not reply. With unsmiling lips and frowning brow she was stepping from the limousine.
For the second time in five minutes, Pollyanna hastened to make amends.
Of course I dont mean the kind of glad thats sinfully proud, she explained, searching Mrs. Carews face with anxious eyes. Maybe you thought I did, same as Aunt Polly used to, sometimes. I dont mean the kind thats glad because youve got something somebody else cant have; but the kind that just just makes you want to shout and yell and bang doors, you know, even if it isnt proper[19], she finished, dancing up and down on her toes.
The chauffeur turned his back precipitately, and busied himself with the car. Mrs. Carew, still with unsmiling lips and frowning brow led the way up the broad stone steps.
Come, Pollyanna, was all she said, crisply.
It was five days later that Della Wetherby received the letter from her sister, and very eagerly she tore it open. It was the first that had come since Pollyannas arrival in Boston.
My dear Sister, Mrs. Carew had written. For pitys sake, Della, why didnt you give me some sort of an idea what to expect from this child you have insisted upon my taking? Im nearly wild and I simply cant send her away. Ive tried to three times, but every time, before I get the words out of my mouth, she stops them by telling me what a perfectly lovely time she is having, and how glad she is to be here, and how good I am to let her live with me while her Aunt Polly has gone to Germany. Now how, pray, in the face of that, can I turn around and say Well, wont you please go home; I dont want you? And the absurd part of it is, I dont believe it has ever entered her head that I dont WANT her here; and I cant seem to make it enter her head, either.
Of course if she begins to preach, and to tell me to count my blessings, I SHALL send her away. You know I told you, to begin with, that I wouldnt permit that. And I wont. Two or three times I have thought she was going to (preach, I mean), but so far she has always ended up with some ridiculous story about those Ladies Aiders of hers; so the sermon gets sidetracked luckily for her, if she wants to stay.
But, really, Della, she is impossible. Listen. In the first place she is wild with delight over the house. The very first day she got here she begged me to open every room; and she was not satisfied until every shade in the house was up, so that she might see all the perfectly lovely things, which, she declared, were even nicer than Mr. John Pendletons whoever he may be, somebody in Beldingsville, I believe. Anyhow, he isnt a Ladies Aider. Ive found out that much.
Then, as if it wasnt enough to keep me running from room to room (as if I were the guide on a personally conducted), what did she do but discover a white satin evening gown that I hadnt worn for years, and beseech me to put it on. And I did put it on why, I cant imagine, only that I found myself utterly helpless in her hands.
But that was only the beginning. She begged then to see everything that I had, and she was so perfectly funny in her stories of the missionary barrels, which she used to dress out of, that I had to laugh though I almost cried, too, to think of the wretched things that poor child had to wear. Of course gowns led to jewels, and she made such a fuss over my two or three rings that I foolishly opened the safe, just to see her eyes pop out. And, Della, I thought that child would go crazy. She put on to me every ring, brooch, bracelet, and necklace that I owned, and insisted on fastening both diamond tiaras in my hair (when she found out what they were), until there I sat, hung with pearls and diamonds and emeralds, and feeling like a heathen goddess in a Hindu temple, especially when that preposterous child began to dance round and round me, clapping her hands and chanting, Oh, how perfectly lovely, how perfectly lovely! How I would love to hang you on a string in the window youd make such a beautiful prism!
I was just going to ask her what on earth she meant by that when down she dropped in the middle of the floor and began to cry. And what do you suppose she was crying for? Because she was so glad shed got eyes that could see! Now what do you think of that?
Of course this isnt all. Its only the beginning. Pollyanna has been here four days, and shes filled every one of them full. She already numbers among her friends the ash-man, the policeman on the beat[20], and the paper boy, to say nothing of every servant in my employ. They seem actually bewitched with her, every one of them. But please do not think I am, for Im not. I would send the child back to you at once if I didnt feel obliged to fulfil my promise to keep her this winter. As for her making me forget Jamie and my great sorrow that is impossible. She only makes me feel my loss all the more keenly because I have her instead of him. But, as I said, I shall keep her until she begins to preach. Then back she goes to you. But she hasnt preached yet.