"Yes, it does," answered Rob, stepping out bravely.
"And I'll tell you what I believe. I believe there are a lot of kind people in the world."
"So do I," said Meg. "I believe they're in it, even when we don't see them."
And all the more with springing steps and brave young faces they walked on their way to fairyland.
They had talked it all over—how they would enter their City Beautiful. It would be no light thing to them—their entrance into it. They were innocently epicurean about it, and wanted to see it at the very first in all its loveliness. They knew that there were gates of entrance here and there through which thousands poured each day, but Meg had a fancy of her own, founded of course upon that other progress of the pilgrims.
"Oh, we must go in by the water, Robin," she said, "just like those other pilgrims who came to town. You know that part at the last where it says, ‘And so many went over the water and were let in at the golden gates to-day.’ Let us go over the water and be let in at the golden gates! But the water we shall go over won't be dark and bitter; it will be blue and splendid, and the sun will be shining everywhere. Oh, Rob! how can it be true that we are here?"
They knew all about the great arch of entrance and
