Элинор Портер - Pollyanna Crows up / Поллианна вырастает. Книга для чтения на английском языке

“Pollyanna! Dear child – and the best part of it is, she is so unconscious of the whole thing. I don’t believe even my sister yet quite realizes what is taking place within her own heart and life, and certainly Pollyanna doesn’t – least of all does she realize the part she played in the change.

“And now, dear Mrs. Chilton, how can I thank you? I know I can’t; so I’m not even going to try. Yet in your heart I believe you know how grateful I am to both you and Pollyanna.

“DELLA WETHERBY.”

“Well, it seems to have worked a cure, all right,” smiled Dr. Chilton, when his wife had finished reading the letter to him.

To his surprise she lifted a quick, remonstrative hand.

“Thomas, don’t, please!” she begged.

“Why, Polly, what’s the matter? Aren’t you glad that – that the medicine worked?”

Mrs. Chilton dropped despairingly back in her chair.

“There you go again, Thomas,” she sighed. “Of COURSE I’m glad that this misguided woman has forsaken the error of her ways [88] has forsaken the error of her ways – ( уст. ) осознала свои ошибки and found that she can be of use to some one. And of course I’m glad that Pollyanna did it. But I am not glad to have that child continually spoken of as if she were a – a bottle of medicine, or a ‘cure.’ Don’t you see?”

“Nonsense! After all, where’s the harm? I’ve called Pollyanna a tonic ever since I knew her.”

“Harm! Thomas Chilton, that child is growing older every day. Do you want to spoil her? Thus far she has been utterly unconscious of her extraordinary power. And therein lies the secret of her success. The minute she CONSCIOUSLY sets herself to reform somebody, you know as well as I do that she will be simply impossible. Consequently, Heaven forbid that she ever gets it into her head that she’s anything like a cure-all for poor, sick, suffering humanity.”

“Nonsense! I wouldn’t worry,” laughed the doctor.

“But I do worry, Thomas.”

“But, Polly, think of what she’s done,” argued the doctor. “Think of Mrs. Snow and John Pendleton, and quantities of others – why, they’re not the same people at all that they used to be, any more than Mrs. Carew is. And Pollyanna did do it – bless her heart!”

“I know she did,” nodded Mrs. Polly Chilton, emphatically. “But I don’t want Pollyanna to know she did it! Oh, of course she knows it, in a way. She knows she taught them to play the ‘glad game’ with her, and that they are lots happier in consequence. And that’s all right. It’s a game – HER game, and they’re playing it together. To you I will admit that Pollyanna has preached to us one of the most powerful sermons I ever heard; but the minute SHE knows it – well, I don’t want her to. That’s all. And right now let me tell you that I’ve decided that I will go to Germany with you this fall. At first I thought I wouldn’t. I didn’t want to leave Pollyanna – and I’m not going to leave her now. I’m going to take her with me.”

“Take her with us? Good! Why not?”

“I’ve got to. That’s all. Furthermore, I should be glad to plan to stay a few years, just as you said you’d like to. I want to get Pollyanna away, quite away from Beldingsville for a while. I’d like to keep her sweet and unspoiled, if I can. And she shall not get silly notions into her head if I can help myself. Why, Thomas Chilton, do we want that child made an insufferable little prig?”

“We certainly don’t,” laughed the doctor. “But, for that matter, I don’t believe anything or anybody could make her so. However, this Germany idea suits me to a T [89] suits me to a T – ( разг. ) очень меня устраивает . You know I didn’t want to come away when I did – if it hadn’t been for Pollyanna. So the sooner we get back there the better I’m satisfied. And I’d like to stay – for a little practice, as well as study.”

“Then that’s settled.” And Aunt Polly gave a satisfied sigh.

All Beldingsville was fairly aquiver with excitement. Not since Pollyanna Whittier came home from the Sanatorium, WALKING, had there been such a chatter of talk over back-yard fences and on every street corner. To-day, too, the center of interest was Pollyanna. Once again Pollyanna was coming home – but so different a Pollyanna, and so different a homecoming!

Pollyanna was twenty now. For six years she had spent her winters in Germany, her summers leisurely traveling with Dr. Chilton and his wife. Only once during that time had she been in Beldingsville, and then it was for but a short four weeks the summer she was sixteen. Now she was coming home – to stay, report said; she and her Aunt Polly.

The doctor would not be with them. Six months before, the town had been shocked and saddened by the news that the doctor had died suddenly. Beldingsville had expected then that Mrs. Chilton and Pollyanna would return at once to the old home. But they had not come. Instead had come word that the widow and her niece would remain abroad for a time. The report said that, in entirely new surroundings, Mrs. Chilton was trying to seek distraction and relief from her great sorrow.

Very soon, however, vague rumors, and rumors not so vague, began to float through the town that, financially, all was not well with Mrs. Polly Chilton. Certain railroad stocks, in which it was known that the Harrington estate had been heavily interested, wavered uncertainly, then tumbled into ruin and disaster. Other investments, according to report, were in a most precarious condition. From the doctor’s estate, little could be expected. He had not been a rich man, and his expenses had been heavy for the past six years. Beldingsville was not surprised, therefore, when, not quite six months after the doctor’s death, word came that Mrs. Chilton and Pollyanna were coming home.

Once more the old Harrington homestead, so long closed and silent, showed up-flung windows and wide-open doors. Once more Nancy – now Mrs. Timothy Durgin – swept and scrubbed and dusted until the old place shone in spotless order.

“No, I hain’t had no instructions ter do it; I hain’t, I hain’t,” Nancy explained to curious friends and neighbors who halted at the gate, or came more boldly up to the doorways. “Mother Durgin’s had the key, ’course, and has come in regerler to air up and see that things was all right; and Mis’ Chilton just wrote and said she and Miss Pollyanna was comin’ this week Friday, and ter please see that the rooms and sheets was aired, and ter leave the key under the side-door mat on that day.

“Under the mat, indeed! Just as if I’d leave them two poor things ter come into this house alone, and all forlorn like that – and me only a mile away, a-sittin’ in my own parlor like as if I was a fine lady an’ hadn’t no heart at all, at all! Just as if the poor things hadn’t enough ter stand without that [90] Just as if the poor things hadn’t enough ter stand without that – ( искаж. ) Как будто бедняжкам не хватало несчастий и помимо этого – a-comin’ into this house an’ the doctor gone – bless his kind heart! – an’ never comin’ back. An’ no money, too. Did ye hear about that? An’ ain’t it a shame, a shame! Think of Miss Polly – I mean, Mis’ Chilton – bein’ poor! My stars and stockings, I can’t sense it – I can’t, I can’t!”

Perhaps to no one did Nancy speak so interestedly as she did to a tall, good-looking young fellow with peculiarly frank eyes and a particularly winning smile, who cantered up to the side door on a mettlesome thoroughbred at ten o’clock that Thursday morning. At the same time, to no one did she talk with so much evident embarrassment, so far as the manner of address was concerned; for her tongue stumbled and blundered out a “Master Jimmy – er – Mr. Bean – I mean, Mr. Pendleton, Master Jimmy!” with a nervous precipitation that sent the young man himself into a merry peal of laughter.