CHAPTER IV. WHEN I AM MARIE
BOSTON.
Yes, I'm here. I've been here a week. But this is the first minute
I've had a chance to write a word. I've been so busy just being here.
And so has Mother. There's been such a lot going on since we came. But
I'll try now to begin at the beginning and tell what happened.
Well, first we got into Boston at four o'clock Monday afternoon, and there was Grandpa Desmond to meet us. He's lovely—tall and dignified, with grayish hair and merry eyes like Mother's, only his are behind glasses. At the station he just kissed Mother and me and said he was glad to see us, and led us to the place where Peter was waiting with the car. (Peter drives Grandpa's automobile, and he's lovely, too.)
Mother and Grandpa talked very fast and very lively all th
