“It is the prettiest place in summer,” said Mary, as they went flying over the snow-packed roads. “Everything is so beautiful that you can really believe it is fairyland.”
On their way, they passed several stately country residences, closed for the winter. Then came acres and acres of bark-sheds filled with bark for the tanneries; then the tanneries themselves. Then, at a distance, upon the brow of the hill were seen the stone walls of Senator Gleason’s home.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” whispered Elizabeth, as though should she speak aloud the spell would be broken, and the place, like Aladdin’s palace, vanish in the air.
“Wait until you see it in summer, with all the vines and beautiful trees,” was the response.
They turned into the driveway, and in a few minutes were brought to the front entrance. At the sound of the bells, the door opened and Senator Gleason appeared, smiling and affable, to welcome them, and following him was his wife.
Elizabeth gave a start of surprise. Although more richly dressed than when she had seen her before, Elizabeth recognized in her the plain little woman with whom she had eaten lunch on her journey to Exeter.