Page 27 - pollyanna

thought Miss Polly.
Eagerly Pollyanna’s small feet pattered behind her aunt.
Still more eagerly her big blue eyes tried to look in all di-
rections at once, that no thing of beauty or interest in this
wonderful house might be passed unseen. Most eagerly of
all her mind turned to the wondrously exciting problem
about to be solved: behind which of all these fascinating
doors was waiting now her room—the dear, beautiful room
full of curtains, rugs, and pictures, that was to be her very
own? Then, abruptly, her aunt opened a door and ascended
another stairway.
There was little to be seen here. A bare wall rose on ei-
ther side. At the top of the stairs, wide reaches of shadowy
space led to far corners where the roof came almost down to
the floor, and where were stacked innumerable trunks and
boxes. It was hot and stifling, too. Unconsciously Pollyanna
lifted her head higher—it seemed so hard to breathe. Then
she saw that her aunt had thrown open a door at the right.
‘There, Pollyanna, here is your room, and your trunk is
here, I see. Have you your key?’
Pollyanna nodded dumbly. Her eyes were a little wide
and frightened.
Her aunt frowned.
‘When I ask a question, Pollyanna, I prefer that you
should answer aloud not merely with your head.’
‘Yes, Aunt Polly.’
‘Thank you; that is better. I believe you have everything
that you need here,’ she added, glancing at the well-filled
towel rack and water pitcher. ‘I will send Nancy up to help

Pollyanna