CHAPTER XVIII
A MATTER OF ADJUSTMENT
The first few days at Beldingsville were not easy either for Mrs.Chilton or for Pollyanna. They were days of adjustment; and days ofadjustment are seldom easy.
From travel and excitement it was not easy to put one's mind to theconsideration of the price of butter and the delinquencies of thebutcher. From having all one's time for one's own, it was not easy tofind always the next task clamoring to be done. Friends and neighborscalled, too, and although Pollyanna welcomed them with gladcordiality, Mrs. Chilton, when possible, excused herself; and alwaysshe said bitterly to Pollyanna:
"Curiosity, I suppose, to see how Polly Harrington likes being poor."
Of the doctor Mrs. Chilton seldom spoke, yet Pollyanna knew very wellthat almost never was he absent from her thoughts; and that more thanhalf her taciturnity was but her usual cloak for a deeper emotionwhich she did not care to show.
Jimmy Pendleton Pollyanna saw several times during that first month.He came first with John Pendleton for a somewhat stiff and ceremoniouscall--not that it was either stiff or ceremonious until after AuntPolly came into the room; then it was both. For some reason Aunt Pollyhad not excused herself on this occasion. After that Jimmy had come byhimself, once with flowers, once with a book for Aunt Polly, twicewith no excuse at all. Pollyanna welcomed him with frank pleasurealways. Aunt Polly, after that first time, did not see him at all.
To the most of their friends and acquaintances Pollyanna said littleabout the change in their circumstances. To Jimmy, however, she talkedfreely, and always her constant cry was: "If only I could do somethingto bring in some money!"
"I'm getting to be the most mercenary little creature you ever saw,"she laughed dolefully. "I've got so I measure everything with a dollarbill, and I actually think in quarters and dimes. You see, Aunt Pollydoes feel so poor!"
"It's a shame!" stormed Jimmy.
"I know it. But, honestly, I think she feels a little poorer than sheneeds to--she's brooded over it so. But I do wish I could help!"
Jimmy looked down at the wistful, eager face with its luminous eyes,and his own eyes softened.
See Frontispiece: "Jimmy looked down at the wistful,eager face"]
"What do you WANT to do--if you could do it?" he asked.
"Oh, I want to cook and keep house," smiled Pollyanna, with a pensivesigh. "I just love to beat eggs and sugar, and hear the soda gurgleits little tune in the cup of sour milk. I'm happy if I've got a day'sbaking before me. But there isn't any money in that--except insomebody else's kitchen, of course. And I--I don't exactly love itwell enough for that!"
"I should say not!" ejaculated the young fellow.
Once more he glanced down at the expressive face so near him. Thistime a queer look came to the corners of his mouth. He pursed hislips, then spoke, a slow red mounting to his forehead.
"Well, of course you might--marry. Have you thought of that--MissPollyanna?"
Pollyanna gave a merry laugh. Voice and manner were unmistakably thoseof a girl quite untouched by even the most far-reaching of Cupid'sdarts.
"Oh, no, I shall never marry," she said blithely. "In the first placeI'm not pretty, you know; and in the second place, I'm going to livewith Aunt Polly and take care of her."
"Not pretty, eh?" smiled Pendleton, quizzically. "Did itever--er--occur to you that there might be a difference of opinion onthat, Pollyanna?"
Pollyanna shook her head.
"There couldn't be. I've got a mirror, you see," she objected, with amerry glance.
It sounded like coquetry. In any other girl it would have beencoquetry, Pendleton decided. But, looking into the face before himnow, Pendleton knew that it was not coquetry. He knew, too, suddenly,why Pollyanna had seemed so different from any girl he had ever known.Something of her old literal way of looking at things still clung toher.
"Why aren't you pretty?" he asked.
Even as he uttered the question, and sure as he was of his estimate ofPollyanna's character, Pendleton quite held his breath at histemerity. He could not help thinking of how quickly any other girl heknew would have resented that implied acceptance of her claim to nobeauty. But Pollyanna's first words showed him that even this lurkingfear of his was quite groundless.
"Why, I just am not," she laughed, a little ruefully. "I wasn't madethat way. Maybe you don't remember, but long ago, when I was a littlegirl, it always seemed to me that one of the nicest things Heaven wasgoing to give me when I got there was black curls."
"And is that your chief desire now?"
"N-no, maybe not," hesitated Pollyanna. "But I still think I'd likethem. Besides, my eyelashes aren't long enough, and my nose isn'tGrecian, or Roman, or any of those delightfully desirable ones thatbelong to a 'type.' It's just NOSE. And my face is too long, or tooshort, I've forgotten which; but I measured it once with one of those'correct-for-beauty' tests, and it wasn't right, anyhow. And they saidthe width of the face should be equal to five eyes, and the width ofthe eyes equal to--to something else. I've forgotten that, too--onlythat mine wasn't."
"What a lugubrious picture!" laughed Pendleton. Then, with his gazeadmiringly regarding the girl's animated face and expressive eyes, heasked:
"Did you ever look in the mirror when you were talking, Pollyanna?"
"Why, no, of course not!"
"Well, you'd better try it sometime."
"What a funny idea! Imagine my doing it," laughed the girl. "Whatshall I say? Like this? 'Now, you, Pollyanna, what if your eyelashesaren't long, and your nose is just a nose, be glad you've got SOMEeyelashes and SOME nose!'"
Pendleton joined in her laugh, but an odd expression came to his face.
"Then you still play--the game," he said, a little diffidently.
Pollyanna turned soft eyes of wonder full upon him.
"Why, of course! Why, Jimmy, I don't believe I could have lived--thelast six months--if it hadn't been for that blessed game." Her voiceshook a little.
"I haven't heard you say much about it," he commented.
She changed color.
"I know. I think I'm afraid--of saying too much--to outsiders, whodon't care, you know. It wouldn't sound quite the same from me now, attwenty, as it did when I was ten. I realize that, of course. Folksdon't like to be preached at, you know," she finished with a whimsicalsmile.
"I know," nodded the young fellow gravely. "But I wonder sometimes,Pollyanna, if you really understand yourself what that game is, andwhat it has done for those who are playing it."
"I know--what it has done for myself." Her voice was low, and her eyeswere turned away.
"You see, it really WORKS, if you play it," he mused aloud, after ashort silence. "Somebody said once that it would revolutionize theworld if everybody would really play it. And I believe it would."
"Yes; but some folks don't want to be revolutionized," smiledPollyanna. "I ran across a man in Germany last year. He had lost hismoney, and was in hard luck generally. Dear, dear, but he was gloomy!Somebody in my presence tried to cheer him up one day by saying,'Come, come, things might be worse, you know!' Dear, dear, but youshould have heard that man then!
"'If there is anything on earth that makes me mad clear through,' hesnarled, 'it is to be told that things might be worse, and to bethankful for what I've got left. These people who go around with aneverlasting grin on their faces caroling forth that they are thankfulthat they can breathe, or eat, or walk, or lie down, I have no usefor. I don't WANT to breathe, or eat, or walk, or lie down--if thingsare as they are now with me. And when I'm told that I ought to bethankful for some such tommyrot as that, it makes me just want to goout and shoot somebody!'"
"Imagine what I'D have gotten if I'd have introduced the glad game tothat man!" laughed Pollyanna.
"I don't care. He needed it," answered Jimmy.
"Of course he did--but he wouldn't have thanked me for giving it tohim."
"I suppose not. But, listen! As he was, under his present philosophyand scheme of living, h
e made himself and everybody else wretched,didn't he? Well, just suppose he was playing the game. While he wastrying to hunt up something to be glad about in everything that hadhappened to him, he COULDN'T be at the same time grumbling andgrowling about how bad things were; so that much would be gained. He'dbe a whole lot easier to live with, both for himself and for hisfriends. Meanwhile, just thinking of the doughnut instead of the holecouldn't make things any worse for him, and it might make thingsbetter; for it wouldn't give him such a gone feeling in the pit of hisstomach, and his digestion would be better. I tell you, troubles arepoor things to hug. They've got too many prickers."
Pollyanna smiled appreciatively.
"That makes me think of what I told a poor old lady once. She was oneof my Ladies' Aiders out West, and was one of the kind of people thatreally ENJOYS being miserable and telling over her causes forunhappiness. I was perhaps ten years old, and was trying to teach herthe game. I reckon I wasn't having very good success, and evidently Iat last dimly realized the reason, for I said to her triumphantly:'Well, anyhow, you can be glad you've got such a lot of things to makeyou miserable, for you love to be miserable so well!'"
"Well, if that wasn't a good one on her," chuckled Jimmy.
Pollyanna raised her eyebrows.
"I'm afraid she didn't enjoy it any more than the man in Germany wouldhave if I'd told him the same thing."
"But they ought to be told, and you ought to tell--" Pendleton stoppedshort with so queer an expression on his face that Pollyanna looked athim in surprise.
"Why, Jimmy, what is it?"
"Oh, nothing. I was only thinking," he answered, puckering his lips."Here I am urging you to do the very thing I was afraid you WOULD dobefore I saw you, you know. That is, I was afraid before I saw you,that--that--" He floundered into a helpless pause, looking very redindeed.
"Well, Jimmy Pendleton," bridled the girl, "you needn't think you canstop there, sir. Now just what do you mean by all that, please?"
"Oh, er--n-nothing, much."
"I'm waiting," murmured Pollyanna. Voice and manner were calm andconfident, though the eyes twinkled mischievously.
The young fellow hesitated, glanced at her smiling face, andcapitulated.
"Oh, well, have it your own way," he shrugged. "It's only that I wasworrying--a little--about that game, for fear you WOULD talk it justas you used to, you know, and--" But a merry peal of laughterinterrupted him.
"There, what did I tell you? Even you were worried, it seems, lest Ishould be at twenty just what I was at ten!"
"N-no, I didn't mean--Pollyanna, honestly, I thought--of course Iknew--" But Pollyanna only put her hands to her ears and went off intoanother peal of laughter.