Page 183 - pollyanna

tenderly and put to bed, while from the village, hastily sum-
moned by telephone, Dr. Warren was hurrying as fast as
another motor car could bring him.
‘And ye didn’t need ter more’n look at her aunt’s face,’
Nancy was sobbing to Old Tom in the garden, after the doc-
tor had arrived and was closeted in the hushed room; ‘ye
didn’t need ter more’n look at her aunt’s face ter see that
‘twa’n’t no duty that was eatin’ her. Yer hands don’t shake,
and yer eyes don’t look as if ye was tryin’ ter hold back the
Angel o’ Death himself, when you’re jest doin’ yer DUTY,
Mr. Tom they don’t, they don’t!’
‘Is she hurt—bad?’ The old man’s voice shook.
‘There ain’t no tellin’,’ sobbed Nancy. ‘She lay back that
white an’ still she might easy be dead; but Miss Polly said
she wa’n’t dead—an’ Miss Polly had oughter know, if any
one would—she kept up such a listenin’ an’ a feelin’ for her
heartbeats an’ her breath!’
‘Couldn’t ye tell anythin’ what it done to her?—that—
that—‘ Old Tom’s face worked convulsively.
Nancy’s lips relaxed a little.
‘I wish ye WOULD call it somethin’, Mr. Tom an’ some-
thin’ good an’ strong, too. Drat it! Ter think of its runnin’
down our little girl! I always hated the evil-smellin’ things,
anyhow—I did, I did!’
‘But where is she hurt?’
‘I don’t know, I don’t know,’ moaned Nancy. There’s a lit-
tle cut on her blessed head, but ‘tain’t bad—that ain’t—Miss
Polly says. She says she’s afraid it’s infernally she’s hurt.’
A faint flicker came into Old Tom’s eyes.

1 Pollyanna