CHAPTER XXVIII
JIMMY AND JAMIE
Pollyanna was not the only one that was finding that winter a hardone. In Boston Jimmy Pendleton, in spite of his strenuous efforts tooccupy his time and thoughts, was discovering that nothing quiteerased from his vision a certain pair of laughing blue eyes, andnothing quite obliterated from his memory a certain well-loved, merryvoice.
Jimmy told himself that if it were not for Mrs. Carew, and the factthat he could be of some use to her, life would not be worth theliving. Even at Mrs. Carew's it was not all joy, for always there wasJamie; and Jamie brought thoughts of Pollyanna--unhappy thoughts.
Being thoroughly convinced that Jamie and Pollyanna cared for eachother, and also being equally convinced that he himself was in honorbound to step one side and give the handicapped Jamie full right ofway, it never occurred to him to question further. Of Pollyanna he didnot like to talk or to hear. He knew that both Jamie and Mrs. Carewheard from her; and when they spoke of her, he forced himself tolisten, in spite of his heartache. But he always changed the subjectas soon as possible, and he limited his own letters to her to thebriefest and most infrequent epistles possible. For, to Jimmy, aPollyanna that was not his was nothing but a source of pain andwretchedness; and he had been so glad when the time came for him toleave Beldingsville and take up his studies again in Boston: to be sonear Pollyanna, and yet so far from her, he had found to be nothingbut torture.
In Boston, with all the feverishness of a restless mind that seeksdistraction from itself, he had thrown himself into the carrying outof Mrs. Carew's plans for her beloved working girls, and such time ascould be spared from his own duties he had devoted to this work, muchto Mrs. Carew's delight and gratitude.
And so for Jimmy the winter had passed and spring had come--a joyous,blossoming spring full of soft breezes, gentle showers, and tendergreen buds expanding into riotous bloom and fragrance. To Jimmy,however, it was anything but a joyous spring, for in his heart wasstill nothing but a gloomy winter of discontent.
"If only they'd settle things and announce the engagement, once forall," murmured Jimmy to himself, more and more frequently these days."If only I could know SOMETHING for sure, I think I could stand itbetter!"
Then one day late in April, he had his wish--a part of it: he learned"something for sure."
It was ten o'clock on a Saturday morning, and Mary, at Mrs. Carew's,had ushered him into the music-room with a well-trained: "I'll tellMrs. Carew you're here, sir. She's expecting you, I think."
In the music-room Jimmy had found himself brought to a dismayed haltby the sight of Jamie at the piano, his arms outflung upon the rack,and his head bowed upon them. Pendleton had half turned to beat a softretreat when the man at the piano lifted his head, bringing into viewtwo flushed cheeks and a pair of fever-bright eyes.
"Why, Carew," stammered Pendleton, aghast, "hasanything--er--happened?"
"Happened! Happened!" ejaculated the lame youth, flinging out both hishands, in each of which, as Pendleton now saw, was an open letter."Everything has happened! Wouldn't you think it had if all your lifeyou'd been in prison, and suddenly you saw the gates flung wide open?Wouldn't you think it had if all in a minute you could ask the girlyou loved to be your wife? Wouldn't you think it had if--But, listen!You think I'm crazy, but I'm not. Though maybe I am, after all, crazywith joy. I'd like to tell you. May I? I've got to tell somebody!"
Pendleton lifted his head. It was as if, unconsciously, he was bracinghimself for a blow. He had grown a little white; but his voice wasquite steady when he answered.
"Sure you may, old fellow. I'd be--glad to hear it."
Carew, however, had scarcely waited for assent. He was rushing on,still a bit incoherently.
"It's not much to you, of course. You have two feet and your freedom.You have your ambitions and your bridges. But I--to me it'severything. It's a chance to live a man's life and do a man's work,perhaps--even if it isn't dams and bridges. It's something!--and it'ssomething I've proved now I CAN DO! Listen. In that letter there isthe announcement that a little story of mine has won the firstprize--$3,000, in a contest. In that other letter there, a bigpublishing house accepts with flattering enthusiasm my first bookmanuscript for publication. And they both came to-day--this morning.Do you wonder I am crazy glad?"
"No! No, indeed! I congratulate you, Carew, with all my heart," criedJimmy, warmly.
"Thank you--and you may congratulate me. Think what it means to me.Think what it means if, by and by, I can be independent, like a man.Think what it means if I can, some day, make Mrs. Carew proud and gladthat she gave the crippled lad a place in her home and heart. Thinkwhat it means for me to be able to tell the girl I love that I DO loveher."
"Yes--yes, indeed, old boy!" Jimmy spoke firmly, though he had grownvery white now.
"Of course, maybe I ought not to do that last, even now," resumedJamie, a swift cloud shadowing the shining brightness of hiscountenance. "I'm still tied to--these." He tapped the crutches by hisside. "I can't forget, of course, that day in the woods last summer,when I saw Pollyanna--I realize that always I'll have to run thechance of seeing the girl I love in danger, and not being able torescue her."
"Oh, but Carew--" began the other huskily.
Carew lifted a peremptory hand.
"I know what you'd say. But don't say it. You can't understand. YOUaren't tied to two sticks. You did the rescuing, not I. It came to methen how it would be, always, with me and--Sadie. I'd have to standaside and see others--"
"SADIE!" cut in Jimmy, sharply.
"Yes; Sadie Dean. You act surprised. Didn't you know? Haven't yoususpected--how I felt toward Sadie?" cried Jamie. "Have I kept it sowell to myself, then? I tried to, but--" He finished with a faintsmile and a half-despairing gesture.
"Well, you certainly kept it all right, old fellow--from me, anyhow,"cried Jimmy, gayly. The color had come back to Jimmy's face in a richflood, and his eyes had grown suddenly very bright indeed. "So it'sSadie Dean. Good! I congratulate you again, I do, I do, as Nancysays." Jimmy was quite babbling with joy and excitement now, so greatand wonderful had been the reaction within him at the discovery thatit was Sadie, not Pollyanna, whom Jamie loved. Jamie flushed and shookhis head a bit sadly.
"No congratulations--yet. You see, I haven't spoken to--her. But Ithink she must know. I supposed everybody knew. Pray, whom did youthink it was, if not--Sadie?"
Jimmy hesitated. Then, a little precipitately, he let it out.
"Why, I'd thought of--Pollyanna."
Jamie smiled and pursed his lips.
"Pollyanna's a charming girl, and I love her--but not that way, anymore than she does me. Besides, I fancy somebody else would havesomething to say about that; eh?"
Jimmy colored like a happy, conscious boy.
"Do you?" he challenged, trying to make his voice properly impersonal.
"Of course! John Pendleton."
"JOHN PENDLETON!" Jimmy wheeled sharply.
"What about John Pendleton?" queried a new voice; and Mrs. Carew cameforward with a smile.
Jimmy, around whose ears for the second time within five minutes theworld had crashed into fragments, barely collected himself enough fora low word of greeting. But Jamie, unabashed, turned with a triumphantair of assurance.
"Nothing; only I just said that I believed John Pendleton would havesomething to say about Pollyanna's loving anybody--but him."
"POLLYANNA! JOHN PENDLETON!" Mrs. Carew sat down suddenly in the chairnearest her. If the two men before her had not been so deeply absorbedin their own affairs they might have noticed that the smile hadvanished from Mrs. Carew's lips, and that an odd look as of almostfear had come to her eyes.
"Certainly," maintained Jamie. "Were you both blind last summer?Wasn't he with her a lot?"
"Why, I thought he was with--all of us," murmured Mrs. Carew, a littlefaintly.
"Not as he was with Pollyanna," insisted Jamie. "Besides, have youforgotten that day when we were talking about John Pendleton'smar
rying, and Pollyanna blushed and stammered and said finally that heHAD thought of marrying--once. Well, I wondered then if there wasn'tSOMETHING between them. Don't you remember?"
"Y-yes, I think I do--now that you speak of it," murmured Mrs. Carewagain. "But I had--forgotten it."
"Oh, but I can explain that," cut in Jimmy, wetting his dry lips."John Pendleton DID have a love affair once, but it was withPollyanna's mother."
"Pollyanna's mother!" exclaimed two voices in surprise.
"Yes. He loved her years ago, but she did not care for him at all, Iunderstand. She had another lover--a minister, and she married himinstead--Pollyanna's father."
"Oh-h!" breathed Mrs. Carew, leaning forward suddenly in her chair."And is that why he's--never married?"
"Yes," avouched Jimmy. "So you see there's really nothing to that ideaat all--that he cares for Pollyanna. It was her mother."
"On the contrary I think it makes a whole lot to that idea," declaredJamie, wagging his head wisely. "I think it makes my case all thestronger. Listen. He once loved the mother. He couldn't have her. Whatmore absolutely natural than that he should love the daughter now--andwin her?"
"Oh, Jamie, you incorrigible spinner of tales!" reproached Mrs. Carew,with a nervous laugh. "This is no ten-penny novel. It's real life.She's too young for him. He ought to marry a woman, not a girl--thatis, if he marries any one, I mean," she stammeringly corrected, asudden flood of color in her face.
"Perhaps; but what if it happens to be a GIRL that he loves?" arguedJamie, stubbornly. "And, really, just stop to think. Have we had asingle letter from her that hasn't told of his being there? And youKNOW how HE'S always talking of Pollyanna in his letters."
Mrs. Carew got suddenly to her feet.
"Yes, I know," she murmured, with an odd little gesture, as ifthrowing something distasteful aside. "But--" She did not finish hersentence, and a moment later she had left the room.
When she came back in five minutes she found, much to her surprise,that Jimmy had gone.
"Why, I thought he was going with us on the girls' picnic!" sheexclaimed.
"So did I," frowned Jamie. "But the first thing I knew he wasexplaining or apologizing or something about unexpectedly having toleave town, and he'd come to tell you he couldn't go with us. Anyhow,the next thing I knew he'd gone. You see,"--Jamie's eyes were glowingagain--"I don't think I knew quite what he did say, anyway. I hadsomething else to think of." And he jubilantly spread before her thetwo letters which all the time he had still kept in his hands.
"Oh, Jamie!" breathed Mrs. Carew, when she had read the lettersthrough. "How proud I am of you!" Then suddenly her eyes filled withtears at the look of ineffable joy that illumined Jamie's face.