"We will hope that Aunt Keren may find the clean, rosy-cheeked young girl, or even the brown-faced-elderly-woman variation of the theme which Margery suggested," said Mrs. Scollard. "It is rather a struggle alone, without conveniences."
"There's a woman coming down the road, mama," said Polly, whose face, with Penny's, was pressed against the steaming window, looking out upon the universal wetness.
Laura dropped the towel, held ready for wiping dishes, though the water was not yet warm, and ran to look.
"She's very wet, mama, and she's fearfully long," Laura announced.
"And she's heading for here!" cried Bob, as if that were the acme of wonders.
"Can she be a lost Bittenbender?" suggested Happie.
The tall woman came in, when bidden to do so, and set herself, marvelously erect, on the edge of a chair.
"It's a very severe rain," remarked Mrs. Scollard, somewhat at loss how to treat her unexpected visitor.
"I've seen worse rains than this already," retorted the angular one. "Do you like it here?"
"We shall grow to be very fond of the place," said Mrs. Scollard cautiously. "We are trying not to be homesick. You see we have always lived in New York."