Pollyanna

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Indeed, ma’am.’ Nancy smothered a murmur. She was contemplating whether ever in any capacity she could please this lady. Nancy had never ‘turned out to be’ previously; however a debilitated mother out of nowhere bereaved and left with three more youthful kids other than Nancy herself, had constrained the young lady into accomplishing something toward their help, and she had been so satisfied when she found a spot in the kitchen of the incredible house on the slope—Nancy had originated from ‘The Corners,’ six miles away, and she knew Miss Polly Harrington just as the courtesan of the old Harrington estate, and perhaps the wealthiest inhabitant of the town. That was two months prior. She knew Miss Polly now as a harsh, extreme confronted lady who grimaced if a blade clacked to the floor, or if an entryway slammed—yet who never thought to grin in any event, when blades and entryways were still.

‘At the point when you’ve completed your morning work, Nancy,’ Miss Polly was stating now, ‘you may free the little room at the head from the steps in the loft, and make up the bunk bed. Tidy the room and up it, obviously, after you get out the trunks and boxes.’

‘Indeed, ma’am. Furthermore, where will I put the things, it would be ideal if you that I take out?’

‘In the front storage room.’ Miss Polly faltered, at that point went on: ‘I guess I should disclose to you now, Nancy. My niece, Miss Pollyanna Whittier, is coming to live with me. She is eleven years of age, and will rest in that room.’