Aunt Polly emitted a tired sigh--a sigh that ascended straight to
Pollyanna's ears.

"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. Certainly I should be very far from
doing my duty by you if I should let you appear out in any one of
them."

Pollyanna sighed now--she believed she was going to hate that
word--duty.

"Aunt Polly, please," she called wistfully, "isn't there ANY way
you can be glad about all that--duty business?"

"What?" Miss Polly looked up in dazed surprise; then, suddenly,
with very red cheeks, she turned and swept angrily down the
stairs. "Don't be impertinent, Pollyanna!"

In the hot little attic room Pollyanna dropped herself on to one
of the straight-backed chairs. To her, existence loomed ahead one
endless round of duty.

"I don't see, really, what there was impertinent about that," she
sighed. "I was only asking her if she couldn't tell me something
to be glad about in all that duty business."

For several minutes Pollyanna sat in silence, her rueful eyes
fixed on the forlorn heap of garments on the bed. Then, slowly,
she rose and began to put away the dresses.