“Nevertheless I think it is my duty to see that you are properly instructed in at least the rudiments of music. You sew, of course.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Pollyanna sighed. “The Ladies’ Aid taught me that.”

“I shall teach you sewing myself, of course. You do not know how to cook, I presume.”

Pollyanna laughed suddenly.

“They were just beginning to teach me that this summer, but I hadn’t got far.[30]”

“At nine o’clock every morning you will read aloud one half-hour to me. Before that you will use the time to put this room in order. Wednesday and Saturday, after half-past nine, you will spend with Nancy in the kitchen, learning to cook. Other mornings you will sew with me. That will leave the afternoons for your music,” she finished.

Pollyanna cried out in dismay.

“Oh, but Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, you haven’t left me any time at all just to – to live.[31]”

“To live, child! What do you mean? As if you weren’t living all the time!”

“I mean living – doing the things you want to do: playing outdoors, reading to myself, climbing hills, talking to Mr. Tom in the garden, and Nancy. That’s what I call living, Aunt Polly. Just breathing isn’t living!”

“Pollyanna, you ARE the most extraordinary child! You will be allowed a proper amount of playtime, of course.[32] Just be grateful.

Pollyanna looked shocked.

“Oh, Aunt Polly, as if I ever could be ungrateful to YOU! I LOVE YOU, you’re my aunt!”

“Very well; then don’t act ungrateful,” said Miss Polly and turned toward the door.

She had gone halfway down the stairs[33] when a small, unsteady voice called after her:

“Please, Aunt Polly, you didn’t tell me which of my things you wanted to give away.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, Pollyanna. Timothy will drive us into town at half past one this afternoon. Not one of your garments is fit for my niece to wear.”

The shopping expedition consumed the entire afternoon; then came supper and a delightful talk with Old Tom in the garden, and another with Nancy on the back porch.

Old Tom told Pollyanna wonderful things of her mother and she felt very happy indeed; and Nancy told her all about the little farm six miles away at “The Corners,” where lived her own dear mother, and her dear brother and sisters. She promised, too, that some time, if Miss Polly were willing, Pollyanna should be taken to see them.

“And THEY’VE got lovely names, too. You’ll like THEIR names,” sighed Nancy. “They’re ‘Algernon,’ and ‘Florabelle’ and ‘Estelle.’ I–I just hate ‘Nancy’!”

“Oh, Nancy, why?”

“Because it isn’t pretty like the others.”

“But I love ‘Nancy,’ just because it’s you,” declared Pollyanna. “Well, anyhow,” she chuckled, “you can be glad your name isn’t ‘Hephzibah’.”

“Hephzibah!”

“Yes. Mrs. White’s name is that. Her husband calls her ‘Hep’ and she doesn’t like it. She says when he calls out ‘Hep – Hep![34]’ she feels just as if the next minute he was going to yell ‘Hurrah!’ And she doesn’t like it.”

Nancy smiled.

“Say, Miss Pollyanna, were you playing that game about my being glad I’m not ‘Hephzibah’?”

Pollyanna frowned; then she laughed.

“Why, Nancy, that’s so! I WAS playing the game – but that’s one of the times I just did it without thinking, I reckon.”

“Well, m-maybe,” granted Nancy, with open doubt.

At half past eight Pollyanna went up to bed. It was very hot in her room and she could not sleep. It seemed to her that it must have been hours before she finally slipped out of bed[35] and opened her door.

Out in the main attic all was velvet blackness except where the moon flung a path of silver near the east window. She saw something else: she saw, only a little way below the window, the wide, flat roof of Miss Polly’s sun parlor.