"How do you do, Pollyanna? I--" She had no chance to say more.
Pollyanna, had fairly flown across the room and flung herself
into her aunt's scandalized, unyielding lap.
"Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, I don't know how to be glad enough
that you let me come to live with you," she was sobbing. "You
don't know how perfectly lovely it is to have you and Nancy and
all this after you've had just the Ladies' Aid!"
"Very likely--though I've not had the pleasure of the Ladies'
Aid's acquaintance," rejoined Miss Polly, stiffly, trying to
unclasp the small, clinging fingers, and turning frowning eyes on
Nancy in the doorway. "Nancy, that will do. You may go.
Pollyanna, be good enough, please, to stand erect in a proper
manner. I don't know yet what you look like."
Pollyanna drew back at once, laughing a little hysterically.
"No, I suppose you don't; but you see I'm not very much to took
at, anyway, on account of the freckles. Oh, and I ought to
explain about the red gingham and the black velvet basque with
white spots on the elbows.
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