“Pollyanna, hand those things to me at once and come in here.  Of all the extraordinary children!” she ejaculated a little later, as, with Pollyanna by her side, and the lantern in her hand, she turned back into the attic.

To Pollyanna the air was all the more stifling after that cool breath of the out of doors; but she did not complain.  She only drew a long quivering sigh.

At the top of the stairs Miss Polly jerked out crisply: 

“For the rest of the night, Pollyanna, you are to sleep in my bed with me.  The screens will be here to-morrow, but until then I consider it my duty to keep you where I know where you are.”

Pollyanna drew in her breath.

“With you?—­in your bed?” she cried rapturously.  “Oh, Aunt Polly, Aunt Polly, how perfectly lovely of you!  And when I’ve so wanted to sleep with some one sometime—­some one that belonged to me, you know; not a Ladies’ Aider.  I’ve had them.  My!  I reckon I am glad now those screens didn’t come!  Wouldn’t you be?”

There was no reply.  Miss Polly was stalking on ahead.  Miss Polly, to tell the truth, was feeling curiously helpless.  For the third time since Pollyanna’s arrival, Miss Polly was punishing Pollyanna—­and for the third time she was being confronted with the amazing fact that her punishment was being taken as a special reward of merit.  No wonder Miss Polly was feeling curiously helpless.

CHAPTER VIII.  POLLYANNA PAYS A VISIT

It was not long before life at the Harrington homestead settled into something like order—­though not exactly the order that Miss Polly had at first prescribed.  Pollyanna sewed, practised, read aloud, and studied cooking in the kitchen, it is true; but she did not give to any of these things quite so much time as had first been planned.  She had more time, also, to “just live,” as she expressed it, for almost all of every afternoon from two until six o’clock was hers to do with as she liked—­provided she did not “like” to do certain things already prohibited by Aunt Polly.

It is a question, perhaps, whether all this leisure time was given to the child as a relief to Pollyanna from work—­or as a relief to Aunt Polly from Pollyanna.  Certainly, as those first July days passed, Miss Polly found occasion many times to ejaculate “What an extraordinary child!” and certainly the reading and sewing lessons found her at their conclusion each day somewhat dazed and wholly exhausted.

Nancy, in the kitchen, fared better.  She was not dazed nor exhausted.  Wednesdays and Saturdays came to be, indeed, red-letter days to her.

There were no children in the immediate neighborhood of the Harrington homestead for Pollyanna to play with.  The house itself was on the outskirts of the village, and though there were other houses not far away, they did not chance to contain any boys or girls near Pollyanna’s age.  This, however, did not seem to disturb Pollyanna in the least.