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.