It was now almost seven o’clock, and the young tourist noticed no one preparing to leave the train at the approaching station. True, there were so few passengers left, there might be individual stations for each one of them; but Craggy Bluff was sure to be exclusive.
The very word as she thought of it, rather terrified Nancy, for, after all, she enjoyed folks, loved companionship and appreciated girlhood’s privileges.
“But Rosalind and--Orilla,” she was forced to reflect, “they will be good company--I hope.” It was Orilla’s personality that puzzled her, for the accounts of that queer girl had been anything but flattering.
“Craggy Bluff!” called out the trainman, who promptly approached Nancy and took up her bag. This had been arranged for by the thoughtful Miss Newton, when the train was leaving Boston, so that there was no danger of Nancy mistaking her destination, or being inconvenienced by her baggage.
She stepped from the train, thanked the trainman and took her bag, just as a smiling girl ran up to her.
It was Rosalind! Fat and rosy, jolly and rollicking.
“Oh, how ducky! I just couldn’t wait. Over here. Chet!” called Rosalind to the chauffeur, who promptly hurried along for the bags. Rosalind continued to puff and putter. “Nancy! Isn’t it too darling to have you come?” Her arm was wound around Nancy’s waist. “Do you like the woods? And the water? And the hills? We even have wild beasts out here, but I never have hunted alone. Here’s our car. Jump right in. Chet, I must call at the post office.” Thus rattled on the exuberant Rosalind, as Nancy formed her first pleasant opinion of the important cousin.
Following these preliminaries, Nancy did manage to say a few words. But they didn’t mean anything, much, other than being pleasant words happily spoken.
The cousins were at last becoming acquainted, and while Nancy knew she was sure to love the impulsive Rosalind, Rosalind felt she was simply “dead in love” with Nancy, all of which favored the hopeful summertime ahead.
Winding in and out of wooded drives and tree tunneled roads, as they went from the station, Nancy sensed something of the luxury she had so wondered about.
Yes, it was wonderful to cover distance that way, and the distance itself was wonderful, because Craggy Bluff was one of those works of Nature varied in detail from the finest ferns to the shaggiest giant oaks, and the very craggiest gray granite rocks to the daintiest pearl pebbles that studded the silvery beach.