Nancy put all her energy into scrubbing and sweeping the little attic room.
Remembering Miss Polly's instructions, she made sure the corners were especially clean.
"I wish I could clean out the corners of Miss Polly's heart," Nancy said as she swept up a cloud of dust.
Nancy was afraid of Miss Polly, but she also had plenty of opinions about her employer.
"The idea of sticking that poor child way up here in this hot, tiny room!"
Nancy stopped to wipe some sweat from her face.
"In summer it's uncomfortable, and in winter there won't be any fireplace to warm her.
With all the nice rooms in this house, Miss Polly picked this one? Unbelievable!"
For a while Nancy worked in silence.
Then she looked around the room in disgust.
There were no pictures or colorful curtains; there was nothing to make the space bright or cheerful.
"Well, my part's done." Nancy wrung out a wet rag until her fingers ached.
"There's no dirt here—or anything else.
What a terrible place to put a homesick, lonely child!"
Nancy left the room and slammed the door. "Oops!"
Nancy bit her lip in fear.
Then she stood up tall and said, "I don't care! I hope Miss Polly heard that and was annoyed!"
Nancy went into the backyard, where Tom, the gardener, was pulling weeds.
She looked quickly over her shoulder to be sure Miss Polly wasn't watching.
"Tom, did you know a child is coming to live here?"
"Coming to live with Miss Polly?"
The old man straightened up with difficulty. "You must be joking."
"Miss Polly told me herself. It's her niece, Pollyanna, and she's an 11-year-old orphan."
Tom smiled. "That must be Miss Jennie's girl.
I can't believe these old eyes will actually get to see her."
"Who's Miss Jennie?" Nancy asked.
"She was Miss Polly's sister, and she was wonderful," Tom said.
"Such a kind person. Miss Jennie left here to marry a minister a long time ago.
Last we heard she'd died."
"Well, Miss Polly is making Pollyanna sleep in the attic."
Nancy glanced over her shoulder again to be sure Miss Polly wasn't nearby.
"Miss Polly should be ashamed of herself!"
Tom went back to pulling weeds but started chuckling.
"What's so funny?" Nancy asked, squatting next to him.
"I wonder what Miss Polly will do with a child in the house."
"Humph! I wonder what a child will do with Miss Polly in the house."
Now Tom was laughing heartily.
"It's obvious you're not fond of Miss Polly."
"As if anybody could be fond of her!" Nancy yanked out a weed and tossed it into Tom's wheelbarrow.
Tom raised his eyebrows. "I guess you don't know about Miss Polly's broken engagement."
"Broken engagement? Her?" Her
Tom nodded. "The fellow still lives right here in town."
"Who is it?" Nancy looked at him eagerly.
Tom put a hand on his aching back and stood up.
"No, no, I can't tell you. It's not right that I reveal Miss Polly's secret."
"It just doesn't seem possible."
"Think of it like a mystery in one of those books you're always reading," Tom teased her.
Nancy shook her head. "I still don't believe that anyone could be in love with Miss Polly."
"Years ago Miss Polly was quite pretty, and she would be now . . ." Tom hesitated. "If she let herself."
"Pretty? Miss Polly?"
"Yes, she didn't always pull her hair back so tight.
She used to wear flowers on her bonnets and lace trim on her dresses.
If she did all that again, you'd see she's not so old."
"Well, she does a good imitation of a cranky old person. There's no pleasing her now."
"That's certainly true. It all started with that argument with her sweetheart."
"She shouldn't take it out on us," Nancy said.
"If my family didn't need the money, I'd quit.
One day I'll get so mad that I'll say something I shouldn't, and she'll fire me."
"Nancy!" a sharp voice called from a window.
Nancy's eyes widened in fear, and she dashed for the house.
"Yes, ma'am! I'm coming, ma'am!"