The thought of little Dollie, frightened, but unhurt, of Rob who had so bravely saved her, of Lena's pride in Rob, flitted through her mind. It would be a pleasant bit of news to tell Rose.
Then she began to think of Great-Aunt Rose, and to wonder how she looked.
"Rose has told me in her letter that she's a handsome old lady, but that isn't like seeing her. How ever SHALL I know her? Oh, of course, I will. She'll be with Rose."
The maid, who had taken the seat behind Polly, reached forward, and touched her shoulder.
"You're not getting drowsy, are you, Miss Polly?" she asked, "we're almost there."
A gay little laugh answered her question.
"How COULD I go to sleep on the way to see Rose?" she asked, "and how near are we now?"
"The next station, but one," said the maid, "and I'll begin to gather up the bag, and suit case."
"The next but one!" cried Polly, and she sat up very straight, and looked from the window. Was the town where Rose lived as pretty as this?
There were great trees that cast long shadows, and here, and there a glimpse of a river that reflected the blue sky, and the floating clouds. There were fine houses with spacious lawns, and lovely gardens, and over all the sunlight playing, and Polly felt that she was riding into an enchanted country, over which Rose, and Great-Aunt Rose presided.