Lovingly but distractedly yours,
Hasnt preached yet, indeed! chuckled Della Wetherby to herself, folding up the closely-written sheets of her sisters letter. Oh, Ruth, Ruth! and yet you admit that youve opened every room, raised every shade, decked yourself in satin and jewels and Pollyanna hasnt been there a week yet. But she hasnt preached oh, no, she hasnt preached!
Chapter IV
The Game and MRS. Carew
Boston, to Pollyanna, was a new experience, and certainly Pollyanna, to Boston such part of it as was privileged to know her was very much of a new experience.
Pollyanna said she liked Boston, but that she did wish it was not quite so big.
You see, she explained earnestly to Mrs. Carew, the day following her arrival, I want to see and know it ALL, and I cant. Its just like Aunt Pollys company dinners; theres so much to eat I mean, to see that you dont eat I mean, see anything, because youre always trying to decide what to eat I mean, to see.
Of course you can be glad there IS such a lot, resumed Pollyanna, after taking breath, cause a whole lot of anything is nice that is, GOOD things; not such things as medicine and funerals, of course! but at the same time I couldnt used to help wishing Aunt Pollys company dinners could be spread out a little over the days when there wasnt any cake and pie; and I feel the same way about Boston. I wish I could take part of it home with me up to Beldingsville so Id have SOMETHING new next summer. But of course I cant. Cities arent like frosted cake and, anyhow, even the cake didnt keep very well. I tried it, and it dried up, specially the frosting. I reckon the time to take frosting and good times is while they are going; so I want to see all I can now while Im here.
Pollyanna, unlike the people who think that to see the world one must begin at the most distant point, began her seeing Boston by a thorough exploration of her immediate surroundings[21] the beautiful Commonwealth Avenue residence which was now her home. This, with her school work, fully occupied her time and attention for some days.
There was so much to see, and so much to learn; and everything was so marvelous and so beautiful, from the tiny buttons in the wall that flooded the rooms with light, to the great silent ballroom hung with mirrors and pictures. There were so many delightful people to know, too, for besides Mrs. Carew herself there were Mary, who dusted the drawing-rooms, answered the bell, and accompanied Pollyanna to and from school each day; Bridget, who lived in the kitchen and cooked; Jennie, who waited at table, and Perkins who drove the automobile. And they were all so delightful yet so different!
Pollyanna had arrived on a Monday, so it was almost a week before the first Sunday. She came downstairs that morning with a beaming countenance.
I love Sundays, she sighed happily.
Do you? Mrs. Carews voice had the weariness of one who loves no day.
Yes, on account of church, you know, and Sunday school. Which do you like best, church, or Sunday school?
Well, really, I began Mrs. Carew, who seldom went to church and never went to Sunday school.
tis hard to tell, isnt it? interposed Pollyanna, with luminous but serious eyes. But you see I like church best, on account of father. You know he was a minister, and of course hes really up in Heaven with mother and the rest of us, but I try to imagine him down here, lots of times; and its easiest in church, when the minister is talking. I shut my eyes and imagine its father up there; and it helps lots. Im so glad we can imagine things, arent you?
Im not so sure of that, Pollyanna.
Oh, but just think how much nicer our IMAGINED things are than our really truly ones that is, of course, yours arent, because your REAL ones are so nice. Mrs. Carew angrily started to speak, but Pollyanna was hurrying on. And of course MY real ones are ever so much nicer than they used to be. But all that time I was hurt, when my legs didnt go, I just had to keep imagining all the time, just as hard as I could. And of course now there are lots of times when I do it like about father, and all that. And so to-day Im just going to imagine its father up there in the pulpit. What time do we go?
GO?
To church, I mean.
But, Pollyanna, I dont that is, Id rather not Mrs. Carew cleared her throat and tried again to say that she was not going to church at all; that she almost never went. But with Pollyannas confident little face and happy eyes before her, she could not do it.
Why, I suppose about quarter past ten if we walk, she said then, almost crossly. Its only a little way.[22]
Thus it happened that Mrs. Carew on that bright September morning occupied for the first time in months the Carew pew in the very fashionable and elegant church to which she had gone as a girl, and which she still supported liberally so far as money went.
To Pollyanna that Sunday morning service was a great wonder and joy. The marvelous music of the vested choir, the opalescent rays from the jeweled windows, the impassioned voice of the preacher, and the reverent hush of the worshiping throng filled her with an ecstasy that left her for a time almost speechless. Not until they were nearly home did she fervently breathe:
Oh, Mrs. Carew, Ive just been thinking how glad I am we dont have to live but just one day at a time!
Mrs. Carew frowned and looked down sharply. Mrs. Carew was in no mood for preaching. She had just been obliged to endure it from the pulpit, she told herself angrily, and she would NOT listen to it from this chit of a child. Moreover, this living one day at a time theory was a particularly pet doctrine of Dellas. Was not Della always saying: But you only have to live one minute at a time, Ruth, and any one can endure anything for one minute at a time!
Well? said Mrs. Carew now, tersely.
Yes. Only think what Id do if I had to live yesterday and to-day and to-morrow all at once, sighed Pollyanna. Such a lot of perfectly lovely things, you know. But Ive had yesterday, and now Im living today, and Ive got to-morrow still coming, and next Sunday, too. Honestly, Mrs. Carew, if it wasnt Sunday now, and on this nice quiet street, I should just dance and shout and yell. I couldnt help it. But its being Sunday, so, I shall have to wait till I get home and then take a hymn the most rejoicingest hymn I can think of. What is the most rejoicingest hymn? Do you know, Mrs. Carew?
No, I cant say that I do, answered Mrs. Carew, faintly, looking very much as if she were searching for something she had lost. For a woman who expects, because things are so bad, to be told that she need stand only one day at a time, it is disarming, to say the least[23], to be told that, because things are so good, it is lucky she does not HAVE to stand but one day at a time!
On Monday, the next morning, Pollyanna went to school for the first time alone. She knew the way perfectly now, and it was only a short walk. Pollyanna enjoyed her school very much. It was a small private school for girls, and was quite a new experience, in its way; but Pollyanna liked new experiences.
Mrs. Carew, however, did not like new experiences, and she was having a good many of them these days. For one who is tired of everything to be in so intimate a companionship with one to whom everything is a fresh and fascinating joy must needs result in annoyance, to say the least. And Mrs. Carew was more than annoyed. She was exasperated. Yet to herself she was forced to admit that if any one asked her why she was exasperated, the only reason she could give would be Because Pollyanna is so glad and even Mrs. Carew would hardly like to give an answer like that.
Mrs. Carew, however, did not like new experiences, and she was having a good many of them these days. For one who is tired of everything to be in so intimate a companionship with one to whom everything is a fresh and fascinating joy must needs result in annoyance, to say the least. And Mrs. Carew was more than annoyed. She was exasperated. Yet to herself she was forced to admit that if any one asked her why she was exasperated, the only reason she could give would be Because Pollyanna is so glad and even Mrs. Carew would hardly like to give an answer like that.
To Della, however, Mrs. Carew did write that the word glad had got on her nerves, and that sometimes she wished she might never hear it again. She still admitted that Pollyanna had not preached that she had not even once tried to make her play the game. What the child did do, however, was invariably to take Mrs. Carews gladness as a matter of course, which, to one who HAD no gladness, was most provoking.
It was during the second week of Pollyannas stay that Mrs. Carews annoyance overflowed into irritable remonstrance. The immediate cause thereof was Pollyannas glowing conclusion to a story about one of her Ladies Aiders.
She was playing the game, Mrs. Carew. But maybe you dont know what the game is. Ill tell you. Its a lovely game.
But Mrs. Carew held up her hand.
Never mind, Pollyanna, she demurred. I know all about the game. My sister told me, and and I must say that I I should not care for it[24].
Why, of course not, Mrs. Carew! exclaimed Pollyanna in quick apology. I didnt mean the game for you. You couldnt play it, of course.
I COULDNt play it! ejaculated Mrs. Carew, who, though she WOULD not play this silly game, was in no mood to be told that she COULD not.
Why, no, dont you see? laughed Pollyanna, gleefully. The game is to find something in everything to be glad about; and you couldnt even begin to hunt, for there isnt anything about you but what you COULD be glad about. There wouldnt BE any game to it for you! Dont you see?
Mrs. Carew flushed angrily. In her annoyance she said more than perhaps she meant to say.
Well, no, Pollyanna, I cant say that I do, she differed coldly. As it happens, you see, I can find nothing whatever to be glad for.
For a moment Pollyanna stared blankly. Then she fell back in amazement.
Why, MRS. CAREW! she breathed.
Well, what is there for me? challenged the woman, forgetting all about, for the moment, that she was never going to allow Pollyanna to preach.
Why, theres theres everything, murmured Pollyanna, still with that dazed unbelief. There theres this beautiful house.