"Isn't this Dr. Adams's daughter?" she asked. "I thought I saw a
familiar look about the lower part of the face."
"Yes, Dr. Adams is my father," said Polly, whose hopes of staying
sprang into life once more.
"Indeed! I am very glad to see you for his sake," returned the
matron. "Perhaps he sent you?"
"No--o, he didn't send us; we came," faltered Polly.
"Never mind; I am glad to see you, anyway. And these are your
young friends, I suppose. Wouldn't you all like to stay and have
dinner here? It is almost ready," she added, in a generous burst
of hospitality.
"Thank you, we should be delighted," said Alan hastily, fearing
Polly might lose the opportunity by politely hesitating.
"Well, Polly Adams, where in the name of time did you come from?"
asked Miss Bean's voice behind her.
Polly turned around. Could this be Miss Bean, this little,
withered figure in the calico gown and white cap? Where was the
green and black gown? Where were the lace mitts and the shaker
bonnet? However, there could be no doubt of Miss Bean's identity
when she said, in her usual abrupt manner,--
"How's your ma? And who are these children?"
"This is Alan Hapgood," replied Polly, introducing her friends;
"and this is Jessie Shepard.
Pages:
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281