"It was Lena Lindsey who first thought of calling her 'Princess Polly,' and she's always so sweet that the name seems to belong to her," said Leslie.
Polly had seen them, and when they reached the house, she was waiting to greet them.
"The postman is coming!" they cried, "the postman is coming, and we ran ahead to tell you!"
"Oh, perhaps there's a letter from Rose!" said Polly.
"That's what we thought," said Leslie, "and if there is, DO tell us some of it. We love Rose Atherton as much as you do."
Polly Sherwood shaded her eyes with her hand, and looked along the broad avenue.
"Oh, now I see him!" she cried, "and he's taking out a handful of letters as he comes along."
The postman laughed at Polly's eagerness.
"Three for you, Miss Polly," he said, as he placed them in her hands.
Polly looked at the envelopes. "That one is from my cousin," she said. "She always uses pink paper, and that one is from a little girl I used to play with before we came to live at Sherwood Hall. I know, because her paper is always pale green, but THIS one—" she held up the envelope with a little cry of delight, "THIS one is from Rose!"