For a long time her thoughts lingered about the home and the life she was leaving, her mother, Charlie, her father, the house, the lodgers, the dingy street, the noise and bustle.  How real it all seemed, yet already how far away!  Could she ever have been in the midst of it with no thought of ever knowing anything else!  How strange life was, and how wonderful!  How one short month had changed everything!  Here she was, her dream and her longing realized, going home again to Springbrook, to the old happy life, the same friends, the same everything—­yet, no, not quite the same, never quite the same, perhaps.  She herself was changed, and—­she looked at Miss Patch.  Their eyes met in a happy, affectionate smile.  “No, things were not quite the same, they were better, if anything.  She had more now, more in every way.”

The train tore on, and the day wore on.  The hedges were growing bare now, and the leaves on them were turning red and yellow and brown; but the autumn sun shone, and there were space and air and sunshine all about them.  Oh, what a change after the close, narrow streets, the gloom and dinginess, the want of space!  Jessie’s spirits began to rise.  How could she be unhappy in this beautiful world, with home before her, and granp and granny waiting for her, and the cottage, and her own dear little bedroom.  “Will my rose be alive, do you think, Miss Grace?” she asked eagerly.

“Yes, dear, your grandfather has cared for it as though it were his most treasured possession, and your little garden, too.  He has kept everything as though you might return at any moment, and all must be in readiness.  It has been a cruelly long parting for them, and it has told on them,” she added.  “You must be prepared to find them altered.  But,” she added more cheerfully, “it rests with you to make them young and happy again, Jessie.”

“I will do my very, very best,” said Jessie earnestly.  “Oh!” she sighed, “how slowly the train goes, aren’t we nearly there, Miss Grace?”

“Only a few moments now, dear.  This is Crossley, the next station to ours.  Don’t you recognize any landmarks yet?”

Jessie sprang to the window and remained there, fascinated, enchanted, drinking it all in, trying to realize that all was not a happy dream, but glorious reality.  She recognized it all now, and every yard made it more familiar.

The train gave a warning whistle.  “Here we are! here we are!” she screamed in a perfect ecstasy of joy.  “Oh, Miss Grace, there is the road, and—­and here is the platform, and—­and I do believe I see granp!”

She drew in her head and shrank back into her corner.  “Miss Grace,” she pleaded excitedly, “when we stop will you and Miss Patch get out and walk away as if I wasn’t here and you had forgotten all about me, and then granp will come to look for me—­like he did the first time, will you?”

Her eagerness was so great Miss Grace could not refuse her.  “Very well, dear, but”—­laughingly—­“I must leave all the parcels, too.  I can’t manage them as well.”