“Hello!” Polly said, indifferent but friendly enough.
Bettina scarcely moved her head. She flushed a little though as the young man passed, but did not speak until he was out of sight.
“I wish I might have had my visit without any other guest. I don’t like Ralph Marshall.” And then, “but please do tell me at once, Polly. I have been realizing ever since you joined me that you had more news. All day I have been feeling it in the atmosphere. You have had another letter.”
Nodding, Polly slipped her hand into her pocket.
“You do know about things, Bettina, before they happen. It is what everybody says about you, but please don’t guess about my future, I prefer not knowing till the time comes.”
She took out the letter and her eyes were brilliant.
“Yes, Tante has written again; the letter is addressed to me, but is for both of us. She says we are to talk over her plan to our families at once and that of course they will disapprove as they always have disapproved of everything she has ever suggested or done. But, just the same, we are to make them agree finally. She says we must—even if she has to come home and then go from here to Washington to argue the question.”
“It is too like what one has dreamed of to come true,” Bettina began, and then stopped because Polly had taken her by both shoulders and was shaking her.
“The things that Tante plans always come true, no matter how everybody else opposes them. That is one of the blessed facts about her. Ever since I can remember she had been more than a fairy godmother to us.” And Polly’s face showed that there was one person in the world about whom she was not matter-of-fact. Indeed, no one understood—not even Polly herself how much hero worship she felt for her mother’s famous sister.
But they were nearly at home. Lights were shining through the windows of the living room at the big farm, and on the veranda two persons were waiting.