Page 98 - pollyanna

headache. When Aunt Polly went up-stairs to her room and
closed the door, Pollyanna tried to be sorry for the head-
ache; but she could not help feeling glad that her aunt was
not to be present that afternoon when she laid the case of
Jimmy Bean before the Ladies’ Aid. She could not forget
that Aunt Polly had called Jimmy Bean a little beggar; and
she did not want Aunt Polly to call him that—before the
Ladies’ Aid.
Pollyanna knew that the Ladies’ Aid met at two o’clock
in the chapel next the church, not quite half a mile from
home. She planned her going, therefore, so that she should
get there a little before three.
‘I want them all to be there,’ she said to herself; ‘else the
very one that wasn’t there might be the one who would be
wanting to give Jimmy Bean a home; and, of course, two
o’clock always means three, really—to Ladies’ Aiders.’
Quietly, but with confident courage, Pollyanna ascended
the chapel steps, pushed open the door and entered the ves-
tibule. A soft babel of feminine chatter and laughter came
from the main room. Hesitating only a brief moment Pol-
lyanna pushed open one of the inner doors.
The chatter dropped to a surprised hush. Pollyanna ad-
vanced a little timidly. Now that the time had come, she felt
unwontedly shy. After all, these half-strange, half-familiar
faces about her were not her own dear Ladies’ Aid.
‘How do you do, Ladies’ Aiders?’ she faltered politely.
‘I’m Pollyanna Whittier. I—I reckon some of you know me,
maybe; anyway, I do YOU—only I don’t know you all to-
gether this way.’