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Chapter V. The Game
“Miss Pollyanna, what a scare you did give me,” panted Nancy, hurrying up to the big rock.
“Scare? Oh, I’m so sorry; but you mustn’t, really, ever get scared about me, Nancy,” said Pollyanna and slid down the rock.
“I didn’t see you go, and nobody didn’t. I guess you flew right up through the roof; I do, I do. Poor little lamb, you must be hungry, too. I–I’m afraid you’ll have to have bread and milk in the kitchen with me. Your aunt didn’t like it – because you didn’t come down to supper.”
“But I couldn’t. I was up here. But I’m glad.”
“Glad! Why?”
“I like bread and milk, and I’d like to eat with you. I don’t see any trouble about being glad about that.”
“You don’t seem to see any trouble being glad about everything,” retorted Nancy.
Pollyanna laughed softly.
“Well, that’s the game, you know, anyway.”
“The – GAME?”
“Yes; the ‘just being glad’ game.”
“Whatever in the world are you talking about?”
“Why, it’s a game. Father told it to me, and it’s lovely. We’ve played it always, ever since I was a little, little girl. I told the Ladies’ Aid, and they played it – some of them… Only sometimes it’s almost too hard especially when your father goes to Heaven… I suppose, though, it’ll be a little harder now, as long as I haven’t anybody to play it with. Maybe Aunt Polly will play it, though,” she added.
“See here, Miss Pollyanna, I’m not sure that I’ll play it very well, and I don’t know how but I’ll play it with you, I will!”
“Oh, Nancy! That’ll be splendid!”
“Maybe,” said Nancy, in open doubt. “You mustn’t count too much on me but I’ll try to play it with you,” she finished, as they entered the kitchen together.
Pollyanna ate her bread and milk with good appetite and went into the sitting room, where her aunt sat reading. Miss Polly looked up coldly.
“Have you had your supper, Pollyanna?”
“Yes, Aunt Polly.”
“I’m very sorry, Pollyanna, to have been obliged so soon to send you into the kitchen to eat bread and milk.”
“But I was really glad you did it, Aunt Polly. I like bread and milk, and Nancy, too. You mustn’t feel bad about that.”
Aunt Polly sat suddenly a little more erect in her chair.
“Pollyanna, go to bed. It was a hard day, and tomorrow we must plan your hours and go over your clothing to see what it is necessary to get for you. Nancy will give you a candle. Breakfast will be at half-past seven. Good night.”
Pollyanna came straight to her aunt’s side and gave her an affectionate hug.
“I know I’m going to just love living with you but then. Good night,” she said cheerfully, as she ran from the room.
“What a most extraordinary child!” Aunt Polly said. Then she frowned. “She’s ‘glad’ I punished her, and I ‘mustn’t feel bad about that,’ and she’s going to ‘love to live’ with me! Well, upon my soul!”
Fifteen minutes later, in the attic room, a lonely little girl sobbed into the sheet:
“I know, father-among-the-angels, I’m not playing the game; I don’t believe even you could find anything to be glad about sleeping all alone in the dark. If only I was near Nancy or Aunt Polly, or even a Ladies’ Aider, it would be easier!”
