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

Jimmy told himself that if it were not for [140] if it were not for – ( разг. ) если бы не Mrs. Carew, and the fact that he could be of some use to her, life would not be worth the living. Even at Mrs. Carew’s it was not all joy, for always there was Jamie; and Jamie brought thoughts of Pollyanna – unhappy thoughts.

Being thoroughly convinced that Jamie and Pollyanna cared for each other, and also being equally convinced that he himself was in honor bound to step one side and give the handicapped Jamie full right of way, it never occurred to him to question further. Of Pollyanna he did not like to talk or to hear. He knew that both Jamie and Mrs. Carew heard from her; and when they spoke of her, he forced himself to listen, in spite of his heartache. But he always changed the subject as soon as possible, and he limited his own letters to her to the briefest and most infrequent epistles possible. For, to Jimmy, a Pollyanna that was not his was nothing but a source of pain and wretchedness; and he had been so glad when the time came for him to leave Beldingsville and take up his studies again in Boston: to be so near Pollyanna, and yet so far from her, he had found to be nothing but torture.

In Boston, with all the feverishness of a restless mind that seeks distraction from itself, he had thrown himself into the carrying out of Mrs. Carew’s plans for her beloved working girls, and such time as could be spared from his own duties he had devoted to this work, much to Mrs. Carew’s delight and gratitude.

And so for Jimmy the winter had passed and spring had come – a joyous, blossoming spring full of soft breezes, gentle showers, and tender green buds expanding into riotous bloom and fragrance. To Jimmy, however, it was anything but a joyous spring, for in his heart was still nothing but a gloomy winter of discontent.

“If only they’d settle things and announce the engagement, once for all,” murmured Jimmy to himself, more and more frequently these days. “If only I could know SOMETHING for sure, I think I could stand it better [141] I could stand it better – ( разг. ) мне было бы легче !”

Then one day late in April, he had his wish – a part of it: he learned “something for sure.”

It was ten o’clock on a Saturday morning, and Mary, at Mrs. Carew’s, had ushered him into the music-room with a well-trained: “I’ll tell Mrs. Carew you’re here, sir. She’s expecting you, I think.”

In the music-room Jimmy had found himself brought to a dismayed halt by the sight of Jamie at the piano, his arms outflung upon the rack, and his head bowed upon them. Pendleton had half-turned to beat a soft retreat when the man at the piano lifted his head, bringing into view two flushed cheeks and a pair of fever-bright eyes.

“Why, Carew,” stammered Pendleton, aghast, “has anything – er – happened?”

“Happened! Happened!” ejaculated the lame youth, flinging out both his hands, in each of which, as Pendleton now saw, was an open letter. “Everything has happened! Wouldn’t you think it had if all your life you’d been in prison, and suddenly you saw the gates flung wide open? Wouldn’t you think it had if all in a minute you could ask the girl you loved to be your wife? Wouldn’t you think it had if – But, listen! You think I’m crazy, but I’m not. Though maybe I am, after all, crazy with joy. I’d like to tell you. May I? I’ve got to tell somebody!”

Pendleton lifted his head. It was as if, unconsciously, he was bracing himself for a blow. He had grown a little white; but his voice was quite steady when he answered.

“Sure you may, old fellow. I’d be – glad to hear it.”

Carew, however, had scarcely waited for assent. He was rushing on, still a bit incoherently.

“It’s not much to you, of course. You have two feet and your freedom. You have your ambitions and your bridges. But I – to me it’s everything. It’s a chance to live a man’s life and do a man’s work, perhaps – even if it isn’t dams and bridges. It’s something! – and it’s something I’ve proved now I CAN DO! Listen. In that letter there is the announcement that a little story of mine has won the first prize – $3,000, in a contest. In that other letter there, a big publishing house accepts with flattering enthusiasm my first book manuscript for publication. And they both came to-day – this morning. Do you wonder I am crazy glad?”

“No! No, indeed! I congratulate you, Carew, with all my heart,” cried Jimmy, warmly.

“Thank you – and you may congratulate me. Think what it means to me. Think what it means if, by and by, I can be independent, like a man. Think what it means if I can, some day, make Mrs. Carew proud and glad that she gave the crippled lad a place in her home and heart. Think what it means for me to be able to tell the girl I love that I DO love her.”

“Yes – yes, indeed, old boy!” Jimmy spoke firmly, though he had grown very white now.

“Of course, maybe I ought not to do that last, even now,” resumed Jamie, a swift cloud shadowing the shining brightness of his countenance. “I’m still tied to – these.” He tapped the crutches by his side. “I can’t forget, of course, that day in the woods last summer, when I saw Pollyanna – I realize that always I’ll have to run the chance of seeing the girl I love in danger, and not being able to rescue her.”

“Oh, but Carew —” began the other huskily.

Carew lifted a peremptory hand.

“I know what you’d say. But don’t say it. You can’t understand. YOU aren’t tied to two sticks. You did the rescuing, not I. It came to me then how it would be, always, with me and – Sadie. I’d have to stand aside [142] I’d have to stand aside – ( разг. ) Мне придется отойти в сторону and see others – ”

“SADIE!” cut in Jimmy, sharply.

“Yes; Sadie Dean. You act surprised. Didn’t you know? Haven’t you suspected – how I felt toward Sadie?” cried Jamie. “Have I kept it so well to myself, then? I tried to, but – ” He finished with a faint smile and a half-despairing gesture.

“Well, you certainly kept it all right, old fellow – from me, anyhow,” cried Jimmy, gayly. The color had come back to Jimmy’s face in a rich flood, and his eyes had grown suddenly very bright indeed. “So it’s Sadie Dean. Good! I congratulate you again, I do, I do, as Nancy says.” Jimmy was quite babbling with joy [143] was quite babbling with joy – ( разг. ) (его) просто распирало от радости and excitement now, so great and wonderful had been the reaction within him at the discovery that it was Sadie, not Pollyanna, whom Jamie loved. Jamie flushed and shook his head a bit sadly.

“No congratulations – yet. You see, I haven’t spoken to – her. But I think she must know. I supposed everybody knew. Pray, whom did you think it was, if not – Sadie?”

Jimmy hesitated. Then, a little precipitately, he let it out.

“Why, I’d thought of – Pollyanna.”

Jamie smiled and pursed his lips.

“Pollyanna’s a charming girl, and I love her – but not that way, any more than she does me. Besides, I fancy somebody else would have something to say about that; eh?”

Jimmy colored like a happy, conscious boy.

“Do you?” he challenged, trying to make his voice properly impersonal.

“Of course! John Pendleton.”

“JOHN PENDLETON!” Jimmy wheeled sharply. “What about John Pendleton?” queried a new voice; and Mrs. Carew came forward with a smile.

Jimmy, around whose ears for the second time within five minutes the world had crashed into fragments, barely collected himself enough for a low word of greeting. But Jamie, unabashed, turned with a triumphant air of assurance.