Rose had said that the house was fine, but that had not told half the beauty of the grand, old mansion.

They sprang from the carriage, and Rose begged that she might run upstairs with Polly just a moment before lunch.

“I want to show her my room,” she said, and Aunt Rose smiled, and nodded assent.

“Oh, Polly, Princess Polly!” she said, when they reached the pretty chamber, “it is so long since we’ve played together, and now—­now I have you, all to myself.  See the queer bed, with the canopy over it.  The first night I came, I was afraid to sleep in it.  Now, I like it, and to-night we’ll cuddle close together in it, and draw the curtains.”

“Oh, what fun!” cried Polly, “and we can play we’re in a castle, and no one can enter, unless we let them!”

“Oh, yes, and we’ll stay awake, oh, ever so long, just to talk,” said Rose.

And when Polly had seen everything in the chamber that Rose wished to show, they ran down to the parlor to see the portraits.

“I’d like to see them all,” said Polly, “but most of all I want to see the picture of the old gentleman that sometimes smiles at you.”

Together they ran down the stairway to the parlor.

How cool it was!  Vines that hung upon the piazza shaded the windows, and flickering sunbeams danced upon the polished floor, and brightened the color of the Persian rug.

The portraits seemed to look with interest at Polly, and she smiled back at them, and nodded as she passed them.

“They look like real people,” she said, “and it doesn’t seem polite to pass them without nodding.”

“I know it,” agreed Rose, “and I nod and smile at them, but the picture at the end of the room smiles more than the others do.  Come, and see him.”

Together they stood looking at the little old gentleman.

Polly admired his flowered satin waistcoat, his powdered wig, and rosy cheeks, but most of all she liked his merry, twinkling eyes.

“He does smile,” said Polly.

“Yes, he does,” agreed Rose, “but now, just for a moment, frown, and then he doesn’t seem to smile.”

It was an odd sight, the two merry little faces puckered into an attempt at a frown, and the old portrait looking down at them, as if in surprise that their smiles had vanished.

“Now, let’s both smile together!” cried Rose.

Immediately two pairs of merry eyes looked up at him, and two red mouths smiled, and showed rows of pearly teeth.

“There!” said Polly, “he almost laughed, and that dimple in his chin looked DIMPLER than before.”

“That’s what I told you,” said Rose, “and sometimes, when I’m lonesome, he’s a comfort.”

At lunch Aunt Rose talked much with Polly, and gentle Aunt Lois seemed charmed with the little guest.

When lunch was over, Aunt Rose left the little playmates to amuse themselves, because she felt sure that Polly must have a budget of news to tell, and they certainly would enjoy their bit of gossip better, if no older person listened.