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.

A slender figure, a huge picturesque hat, and a mass of curling, flaxen
hair, were all that Aunt Rose had seen, but now hand in hand, they were
coming toward the carriage.

"A lovely face, surely," murmured Great-Aunt Rose, "a sweet, and lovely
face."

"This is Princess Polly," said Rose, "and Polly, dear, this is my Great-