“Jimmy Peters from Deercroft?” asked Jean, catching the letters. “Where’s he bound for?”
“Home,” replied Don, and went on.
“He’s one of the boys we saw at the station the day we came. I like him because he’s trying hard to get ahead. Sandy’s helping him.”
“He says the Bishop’s riding this way; says they’re going to meet him Saturday up past Badger Lake, and ride back with him. Mother thinks he’ll be here Sunday perhaps.”
“Is that the real Bishop?” asked Polly, eagerly.
“Indeed, we think he’s very real,” laughed Jean. “Wait till you see him. Let’s see who gets letters. Two for Polly, one for Sue and Ruth, post-cards for Isabel—oh, what a lot of them—and Ted too.”
“They’re mostly from the girls at the Hall,” Ted cried. “Isn’t that nice of them to remember us right away. I love to be missed, don’t you, Miss Jean?”
Polly had opened her letters, and was skimming them over. All at once she gave a quick exclamation.
“Girls,” she cried. “Who do you think is coming?”
“Miss Calvert,” Ruth said, soberly.