“Well, I wonder what a child will do with Miss Polly in the house!” snapped Nancy.
The old man laughed.
“I’m afraid you aren’t fond of Miss Polly,” he grinned.
“As if ever anybody could be fond of her![8]” scorned Nancy.
“I guess maybe you didn’t know about Miss Polly’s love affair,” he said slowly.
“Love affair – HER! No!”
“You didn’t know Miss Polly as I did,” he said. “She used to be real handsome – and she would be now, if she’d let herself be.[9]”
“Handsome! Miss Polly!”
“Yes, she is different now, I know. It begun then – at the time of the trouble with her lover,” nodded Old Tom; “and she is bitter and prickly to deal with.”
“Nancy!” called a sharp voice.
“Y-yes, ma’am,” stammered Nancy; and hurried toward the house.
Chapter III. The Coming of Pollyanna
“Nancy,” Miss Polly said, “my niece will arrive tomorrow at four o’clock. You must meet her at the station. Timothy will take the open buggy and drive you over. The telegram says ‘light hair, red-checked gingham dress, and straw hat.’ That is all I know.”
Promptly at twenty minutes to four the next afternoon Timothy and Nancy drove off in the open buggy to meet the expected guest. Timothy was Old Tom’s son. He was a good-natured youth, and a good-looking one, as well. The two were already good friends.
When they got to the station, Nancy hurried to a point where she could best watch the passengers. Over and over in her mind Nancy was saying it “light hair, red-checked dress, straw hat.” Over and over again she was wondering just what sort of child this Pollyanna was.
At last they saw her – the slender little girl in the red-checked gingham with two fat braids of flaxen hair hanging down her back. Beneath the straw hat, an eager, freckled little face turned to the right and to the left, searching for some one.
“Are you Miss Pollyanna?” Nancy faltered.
“Oh, I’m so glad, GLAD, GLAD to see you,” cried an eager voice in her ear. “Of course I’m Pollyanna, and I’m so glad you came to meet me! I hoped you would.[10]”
“You did?” stammered Nancy.
“Oh, yes!” cried the little girl. “And I’m glad you look just like you do look.”
Timothy came up.
“This is Timothy. Maybe you have a trunk,” she stammered.
“Yes, I have,” nodded Pollyanna, importantly. “I’ve got a brand-new one. The Ladies’ Aid[11]