“Yes indeed,” he said heartily.
But in spite of all their efforts to be cheerful and gay, time dragged heavily enough. And the first few days after Grandpapa and Phronsie went, Jasper had hard work to leave Polly when he ran off to business in the early train.
“I’ll stay home with you, dear,” he said on the third morning, as he saw the pale face, and the sorrowful look in the usually laughing eyes, “and we will go and drive, Polly;” cut to the heart to see her so.
“Oh, no, Jasper!” she said quickly, the color flooding her face, “oh, how could I be so selfish! I didn’t think it would worry you so, and I’ll make myself look cheerful. Oh! it would just kill me to have you leave your work. Indeed, Jasper, it would.”
“Then I won’t, Polly,” said Jasper reluctantly; “and don’t worry about Roslyn May. I do believe they’ll find things better than they fear, when they get there.”
“But supposing they shouldn’t,” breathed Polly fearfully.
“They will, I verily believe,” said Jasper in ringing tones. “And just think, Polly, if all goes well, and the boat makes her usual time, they’ll be there on Monday.”
Polly counted the days and hours, and “even minutes” Alexia said, and was surprised herself to see how swiftly they flew by.
“It’s such a comfort to think that Joey could go with them,” she said one day, when Alexia ran over and up into her pretty room to bewail her woes over a new gown the dressmaker had sent home. Alexia had worn it over to show it to Polly; and she now turned this way and that, declaring each side was just so much worse than the other.
“Did you ever see such a fright, Polly Pepper?” she cried, quite overcome, and sinking into the first chair she could find—“and to think it was to be my very best gown.”