she told me not to talk about him." And Pollyanna, convinced anew
of her aunt's "kindness," blinked off the tears and looked
eagerly about her.

She was on the stairway now. Just ahead, her aunt's black silk
skirt rustled luxuriously. Behind her an open door allowed a
glimpse of soft-tinted rugs and satin-covered chairs. Beneath her
feet a marvellous carpet was like green moss to the tread. On
every side the gilt of picture frames or the glint of sunlight
through the filmy mesh of lace curtains flashed in her eyes.

"Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly," breathed the little girl,
rapturously; "what a perfectly lovely, lovely house! How awfully
glad you must be you're so rich!"

"PollyANNA!" ejaculated her aunt, turning sharply about as she
reached the head of the stairs. "I'm surprised at you--making a
speech like that to me!"

"Why, Aunt Polly, AREN'T you?" queried Pollyanna, in frank
wonder.

"Certainly not, Pollyanna. I hope I could not so far forget
myself as to be sinfully proud of any gift the Lord has seen fit
to bestow upon me," declared the lady; "certainly not, of
RICHES!"

Miss Polly turned and walked down the hall toward the attic
stairway door. She was glad, now, that she had put the child in
the attic room. Her idea at first had been to get her niece as