Page 160 - pollyanna

the prisms that you love so well, little girl, you danced into
my life, and flecked my dreary old world with dashes of the
purple and gold and scarlet of your own bright cheeriness. I
found out, after a time, who you were, and—and I thought
then I never wanted to see you again. I didn’t want to be re-
minded of—your mother. But—you know how that came
out. I just had to have you come. And now I want you al-
ways. Pollyanna, won’t you come NOW?’
‘But, Mr. Pendleton, I—There’s Aunt Polly!’ Pollyanna’s
eyes were blurred with tears.
The man made an impatient gesture.
‘What about me? How do you suppose I’m going to be
‘glad’ about anything—without you? Why, Pollyanna, it’s
only since you came that I’ve been even half glad to live! But
if I had you for my own little girl, I’d be glad for—anything;
and I’d try to make you glad, too, my dear. You shouldn’t
have a wish ungratified. All my money, to the last cent,
should go to make you happy.’
Pollyanna looked shocked.
‘Why, Mr. Pendleton, as if I’d let you spend it on me—all
that money you’ve saved for the heathen!’
A dull red came to the man’s face. He started to speak,
but Pollyanna was still talking.
‘Besides, anybody with such a lot of money as you have
doesn’t need me to make you glad about things. You’re
making other folks so glad giving them things that you just
can’t help being glad yourself! Why, look at those prisms
you gave Mrs. Snow and me, and the gold piece you gave
Nancy on her birthday, and—‘

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