“We are, most decidedly. Wouldn’t miss it for a farm.”
“I wish I could,” sighed Polly.
“You can! You must!”
“I am not so sure.” A little scowl troubled her forehead.
“Remember, it is Sally that asks you,” he coaxed.
“I don’t forget,” she returned. “I will go if I can manage it; but when I am away somebody must stay with my little patients, and it is not in my plan to call on mother all the time. I promised to take care of Paradise Ward, and I won’t be a slacker.”
The young man did not reply. Polly was gazing straight ahead into the distance, as if her thoughts were a long way afield. As he looked, his face took on alternately grave lines and gladsome. He, too, was following paths quite afar from the state road.
Soon they were making a slow passage over a thoroughfare that was being repaired. Polly had thrown aside her other problem and was concentrating all her knowledge and skill upon her not easy task. The street was full of pedestrians and automobiles, and one needed a clear head, quick thought, and ready hands. John Eustis was an expert driver, yet he discovered no flaw in Polly’s management.
When the road was clear, “Another score in your favor,” he smiled. “Evan must be a good instructor.”
“He is,” she returned. “John, I have been thinking—I believe I can see my way to go. How early shall you start?”