Page 213 - pollyanna

and heart, or a child’s presence, to make a home, you know,’
she remarked.
Miss Polly turned with a start.
‘DR. CHILTON! How do you know—that?’
‘He told me so. ‘Twas when he said he lived in just rooms,
you know—not a home.’
Miss Polly did not answer. Her eyes were out the win-
dow.
‘So I asked him why he didn’t get ‘em.—a woman’s hand
and heart, and have a home.’
‘Pollyanna!’ Miss Polly had turned sharply. Her cheeks
showed a sudden color.
‘Well, I did. He looked so—so sorrowful.’
‘What did he—say?’ Miss Polly asked the question as if
in spite of some force within her that was urging her not
to ask it.
‘He didn’t say anything for a minute; then he said very
low that you couldn’t always get ‘em for the asking.’
There was a brief silence. Miss Polly’s eyes had turned
again to the window. Her cheeks were still unnaturally
pink.
Pollyanna sighed.
‘He wants one, anyhow, I know, and I wish he could have
one.’
‘Why, Pollyanna, HOW do you know?’
‘Because, afterwards, on another day, he said something
else. He said that low, too, but I heard him. He said that
he’d give all the world if he did have one woman’s hand and
heart. Why, Aunt Polly, what’s the matter?’ Aunt Polly had

1 Pollyanna