But Johnny was already scrambling all over Polly's traveling gown, and she was laughing at him. And presently the pale little woman was stretched comfortably on the opposite seat, her eyes closed restfully.
"Well done!" cried the old gentleman; "I'll read my paper while the calm spell lasts;" as the train rumbled on, the sound only broken by Johnny's delighted little gurgles, as Polly played "Rabbit and Fox" for his delectation.
Phronsie looked down the intervening space, and heaved a sigh at Polly's employment.
"Don't worry; I like it," telegraphed Polly, nodding away to her. So Phronsie turned again to her watch, lest Grandpapa's head should slip from the blanket pillow in a sudden lurch of the cars.
"I'd help her if I knew how," Charlotte, several seats off, groaned to herself, "but that lump of a baby would only roar at me. Dear, dear, am I never to be any good to Polly?"
She leaned her troubled face against the window-side, her chin resting on her hand, and gave herself up to the old thoughts. "What did Ben say?" she cried suddenly, flying away from the window so abruptly that she involuntarily glanced around to be quite sure that none of her fellow-passengers were laughing at her. "'You may be sure, Charlotte, if you keep on the lookout, there will a time come for you to help Polly.' That's what he said, and I'll hold fast to it."
On and on the train rumbled. The little mother woke up with a new light in her eyes, and a pink color on her cheeks. "I haven't had such a sleep in weeks," she said gratefully. Then she leaned forward.
"I'll take Johnny now," she said; "you must be so tired."
But Johnny roared out "No," and beat her off with small fists and feet.
"He's going to sleep," said Polly, looking down at him snuggled up tightly within her arm, his heavy eyelids slowly drooping, "then I'll put him down on the seat, and tuck him up for a good long nap."