"And we live in the finest part of Avondale," she said, continuing her thoughts aloud. "Tho' wherever Uncle John is, seems better than anywhere else."
She had spent the bright, happy summer at the shore, and surely Uncle
John's fine residence, "The Cliffs," had been a delightful summer home.
Then Uncle John had one morning told a bit of wonderful news.
"I've something to tell you, my little girl," he said, drawing Rose to him.
"This is our summer home," he continued, "and a fine summer place it is, but Rose, little girl, we're to spend the coming Winter at Avondale."
It had been very exciting!
Before closing "The Cliffs," those treasures that Uncle John held dearest were carefully packed to be sent to the new home, and then, in the big, luxurious car, they had motored to Avondale.
"Good-bye," Rose had said, as she looked back toward "The Cliffs," and then, after throwing a kiss toward the house, she nestled back in the car, and tried, for the twentieth time, to "guess" how the new home would look.
It had proved to be more grand, more beautiful than she had dreamed. "And so near sweet Princess Polly," she said, "just the next house but one."
She sprang from the low step, and ran down to the sidewalk to see if Princess Polly was yet in sight. "I think it is a little early," she said, "for Polly said she'd come over at nine, and it isn't nine yet."