Page 130 - pollyanna

how you came to them, I was so ashamed! I—‘
Pollyanna began to dance up and down lightly on her
toes.
‘You didn’t!—You didn’t say I COULDN’T do your hair,’
she crowed triumphantly; ‘and so I’m sure it means just the
other way ‘round, sort of—like it did the other day about
Mr. Pendleton’s jelly that you didn’t send, but didn’t want
me to say you didn’t send, you know. Now wait just where
you are. I’ll get a comb.’
‘But Pollyanna, Pollyanna,’ remonstrated Aunt Polly, fol-
lowing the little girl from the room and panting up-stairs
after her.
‘Oh, did you come up here?’ Pollyanna greeted her at the
door of Miss Polly’s own room. ‘That’ll be nicer yet! I’ve got
the comb. Now sit down, please, right here. Oh, I’m so glad
you let me do it!’
‘But, Pollyanna, I—I ‘
Miss Polly did not finish her sentence. To her helpless
amazement she found herself in the low chair before the
dressing table, with her hair already tumbling about her
ears under ten eager, but very gentle fingers.
‘Oh, my! what pretty hair you’ve got,’ prattled Pollyanna;
‘and there’s so much more of it than Mrs. Snow has, too! But,
of course, you need more, anyhow, because you’re well and
can go to places where folks can see it. My! I reckon folks’ll
be glad when they do see it—and surprised, too, ‘cause
you’ve hid it so long. Why, Aunt Polly, I’ll make you so pret-
ty everybody’ll just love to look at you!’
‘Pollyanna!’ gasped a stifled but shocked voice from a veil

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