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Page 11
At last the day came when Polly was to make the little trip that would
begin at the station in her own town, and end at a place, some miles
distant, where, when the train stopped, she would see Rose waiting for
her.
She thought it would seem finer to go quite alone, but Mrs. Sherwood
would not permit that.
"The maid must ride with you, and remain beside you until Rose and her
aunt meet you. Then, she can return on the next train," she had said,
and Polly knew it was useless to object.
And when, at last, the excitement of saying "good-bye" was over, and the
train had already left the little town far behind, Polly settled back in
her seat, and fell to dreaming.
The thought of little Dollie, frightened, but unhurt, of Rob who had so
bravely saved her, of Lena's pride in Rob, flitted through her mind. It
would be a pleasant bit of news to tell Rose.
Then she began to think of Great-Aunt Rose, and to wonder how she
looked.
"Rose has told me in her letter that she's a handsome old lady, but that
isn't like seeing her. How ever SHALL I know her? Oh, of course, I will.
She'll be with Rose."
The maid, who had taken the seat behind Polly, reached forward, and
touched her shoulder.
"You're not getting drowsy, are you, Miss Polly?" she asked, "we're
almost there."
A gay little laugh answered her question.
"How COULD I go to sleep on the way to see Rose?" she asked, "and how
near are we now?"
"The next station, but one," said the maid, "and I'll begin to gather up
the bag, and suit case."
"The next but one!" cried Polly, and she sat up very straight, and
looked from the window. Was the town where Rose lived as pretty as this?
There were great trees that cast long shadows, and here, and there a
glimpse of a river that reflected the blue sky, and the floating clouds.
There were fine houses with spacious lawns, and lovely gardens, and over
all the sunlight playing, and Polly felt that she was riding into an
enchanted country, over which Rose, and Great-Aunt Rose presided.
Polly did not notice what the brakeman said, but the maid did, and she
spoke quickly.
"Come, Miss Polly, here we are, and we'll do well to get off right now
before folks crowd toward the door. By the looks I think everyone means
to stop here!"
It certainly looked as if the maid had spoken truly, for men reached for
parcels that had been stowed in bundle racks, and women commenced to
gather up hand bags, and wraps.
Polly wondered if anyone intended to remain in the car.
She slipped from the seat to the floor, and then, just as they stopped
at the station, she turned and peeped from the window.
"Oh, there she is! There she is!" she cried, "and she's in a fine
carriage with an old lady that looks like a portrait in our drawing
room. Look! Look!"
"We can't stop to look," said the maid, "or we'll be left on the train."
"Oh, we CAN'T stay!" cried Polly, as she hurried toward the door.
She could not imagine anything more dreadful than to be detained on the
train, and ride on, and on, while Rose would find no little friend to
welcome.
She alarmed the maid by rushing down the steps, and across the platform,
and she almost took Great-Aunt Rose's breath away, when she flew at
Rose, and the two little girls embraced laughing, and yes, crying just a
little at the same time.
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