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But, of course, youyoud want her, your sisters child, ventured Nancy, vaguely feeling that somehow she must prepare a welcome for this lonely little stranger. Miss Polly lifted her chin haughtily. Well, really, Nancy, just because I happened to have a sister who was silly enough to marry and bring unnecessary children into a world that was already quite full enough, I cant see how I should particularly want to have the care of them myself. However, as I said before, I hope I know my duty. See that you clean the corners, Nancy, she finished sharply, as she left the room. Yes, maam, sighed Nancy, picking up the half-dried pitchernow so cold it must be rinsed again. In her own room, Miss Polly took out once more the letter which she had received two days before from the far-away Western town, and which had been so unpleasant a surprise to her. The letter was addressed to Miss Polly Harrington, Beldingsville, Vermont; and it read as follows: Dear Madam:I regret to inform you that the Rev. John Whittier died two weeks ago, leaving one child, a girl eleven years old. He left practically nothing else save a few books; for, as you doubtless know, he was the pastor of this small mission church, and had a very meagre salary. I believe he was your deceased sisters husband, but he gave me to understand the families were not on the best of terms. He thought, however, that for your sisters sake you might wish to take the child and bring her up among her own people in the East. Hence I am writing to you. The little girl will be all ready to start by the time you get this letter; and if you can take her, we would appreciate it very much if you would write that she might come at once, as there is a man and his wife here who are going East very soon, and they would take her with them to Boston, and put her on the Beldingsville train. Of course you would be notified what day and train to expect Pollyanna on. Pollyanna Hoping to hear favorably from you soon, I remain, Respectfully yours, With a frown Miss Polly folded the letter and tucked it into its envelope. She had answered it the day before, and she had said she would take the child, of course. She hoped she knew her duty well enough for that!disagreeable as the task would be. As she sat now, with the letter in her hands, her thoughts went back to her sister, Jennie, who had been this childs mother, and to the time when Jennie, as a girl of twenty, had insisted upon marrying the young minister, in spite of her familys remonstrances. There had been a man of wealth who had wanted herand the family had much preferred him to the minister; but Jennie had not. The man of wealth had more years, as well as more money, to his credit, while the minister had only a young head full of youths ideals and enthusiasm, and a heart full of love. Jennie had preferred thesequite naturally, perhaps; so she had married the minister, and had gone south with him as a home missionarys wife. The break had come then. Miss Polly remembered it well, though she had been but a girl of fifteen, the youngest, at the time. The family had had little more to do with the missionarys wife. To be sure, Jennie herself had written, for a time, and had named her last baby Pollyanna for her two sisters, Polly and Annathe other babies had all died. This had been the last time that Jennie had written; and in a few years there had come the news of her death, told in a short, but heart-broken little note from the minister himself, dated at a little town in the West. Meanwhile, time had not stood still for the occupants of the great house on the hill. Miss Polly, looking out at the far-reaching valley below, thought of the changes those twenty-five years had brought to her. |
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