"But you know," Henrietta insisted, "that you could have got him if you had tried as hard as I did."

"I guess not," Sally replied; "not after you appeared, anyway. You needn't distress yourself. I remember that I used to look upon d.i.c.k and Everett with adoration, as a little girl. They were my ideals.

When they carried me home, after the kite accident, I was in the seventh heaven. But there was nothing, even then. No, d.i.c.k is all yours, as far as I am concerned."

Henrietta breathed a sigh. "Well, I'm glad to be sure of it. But, Sally," she continued, with a doubtful glance, as if she were a little afraid of Sally and of what she was about to ask, "how about Everett?

Was there ever--?"

Sally laughed again suddenly. "No, there wasn't. Everett never looked at me."

"But, Sally," Henrietta persisted, "it isn't so now. Does he--you aren't engaged, are you, Sally?" she asked softly, glancing up timidly under her long lashes.

Sally seemed to be in haste to reply. "Oh, no," she said. "Oh, no. I am not likely to be. I suppose you mean Everett."

"Yes, I did," returned Henrietta. She showed some surprise. "Why? Is there anybody else?"

"No, oh, no," Sally answered more hastily than before. "There isn't.

As far as I can see, I am scheduled to teach for the rest of my life."

"Are you quite sure, Sally?" Henrietta urged. "Isn't there _anybody_?

Not even somebody that you wish--"

Sally was getting rather red. "No, no, Henrietta," she said, interrupting. "Now that's enough about my affairs of the heart. It's a little embarra.s.sing to be questioned so closely, dear."

"I'm sure I beg your pardon, Sally," cried Henrietta impulsively. "I didn't mean to be. Now, _I_ am just dying to be questioned closely.

Try me."

"I don't know what to ask," said Sally, smiling. "I would if I did."

Henrietta sighed. "You're very disappointing, Sally. If you were really interested you would know." She sighed again. "But, anyway, you'll be what I want you to be at my wedding, won't you?"

"Indeed, I will. I'll be anything you want me to be." She laughed a little. "But I warn you that I shall need coaching. What do I have to do?"

"Nothing much. You'll have all the coaching you need. You know it's going to be at Fox's house. He's going to open it for the occasion."

"Only for the occasion?" Sally spoke coldly; so coldly that her voice did not sound natural. "I rather gathered, from a remark that he made a while ago, that he contemplated matrimony, too."

"Fox get married?" Henrietta was genuinely surprised. "Well, it's news to me. Who's to be my sister-in-law? Did he say?"

Sally shook her head. "I supposed it was probably Margaret Savage."

"Oh!" cried Henrietta. "I hope not." Then she seemed to be ashamed of her outburst and sat, swinging her feet and looking wistfully at Sally. "I had hoped," she observed at last, "that, when Fox's time came, it would be--" She stopped and considered. "I hoped that it would be--not Margaret Savage, Sally."

Sally made no reply.

"Margaret Savage is so--so _empty_, you see," Henrietta went on. "She would not be exhilarating. But I won't say any more about her."

"It isn't really necessary," Sally returned, laughing.

"And the less said the better," Henrietta concluded. "I don't know why, but it reminds me of your Cousin Patty. d.i.c.k hasn't told me much of anything," Henrietta lowered her voice. "Do you suppose it is true that she is losing her mind?"

"Did d.i.c.k tell you that?" asked Sally, startled.

Henrietta shook her head. "I heard it talked about."

"I have no reason to think so. She gets queerer and more cranky every year. She has changed a good deal since Uncle John died. Poor Patty!

She has very little comfort in life--except Charlie." Sally laughed shortly. "I hope she finds him a comfort."

Henrietta did not know what to say. Consequently she said nothing, which was, no doubt, just the right thing.

"Charlie will be home to-morrow," Sally added; then she corrected herself. "I should have said that Charlie is due to-morrow. He may not come."

"Oh, Sally!" Henrietta cried. "What makes you speak so? It--it sounds horrible."

"It's the simple fact, Henrietta."

"Why don't you do something about it? I would."

Sally gave a little shrug. "What would you do? There is nothing to be done. Charlie's a headstrong boy and he seems to have slipped away altogether from mother's control. Patty indulges him and I don't see how I can do anything. If he had really done anything wrong and I knew it, it would be a different matter. I don't know that he has--but,"

she added in a low voice, "I don't know that he hasn't."

Henrietta chanced to glance at the watch upon her wrist. "Oh, mercy me!" she cried, springing to her feet. "I didn't know it was so late.

I've got to meet d.i.c.k in five minutes. Good bye, Sally."

Henrietta was gone, running down the stairs. She need not have hurried so, for d.i.c.k was late. He was so late that she had become hotly impatient and then angry with him. Indeed, she was just going away, hurt and angry, when d.i.c.k appeared, hurrying as if he were pursued by devils and smiling propitiatingly.

"I'm awfully sorry to be so late, Henrietta," he began. "I simply could not get away from those two bores. I came just as soon as I could without throwing them out of the office."

Henrietta's anger was dissolved like a morning mist. "Who was it, d.i.c.k?"

"The Carling twins. It took them a long time to say what they wanted to, for you know they still stutter."

"I've never seen them, although I've heard of them. What were they trying to say?"

"Oh, I don't know. To tell the truth, I was so afraid of being late that I didn't pay as much attention as I ought to have."

This confession would have been a great comfort to the Carlings, for they had taken especial pains and made this trip for the sole purpose of seeing d.i.c.k. What they had to say concerned Charlie Ladue. It is not to be supposed that they would be so concerned about the acts of Charlie Ladue, if he were the only one. But his acts would involve Sally, sooner or later, and, so long as that was inevitable, it had better be sooner. In fact, the sooner the better. And, each of the Carlings knowing a thing or two, as was to be expected of them, they had had a long deliberation on the subject, only the night before.

"S--s--ssomeb--b--body ought t--to kn--n--now ab--bout it," Harry observed. "I w--w--wouldn't b--bother m--myself ab--b--out wh--wh--what t--that l--l--lemon of a k--kid d--did 'f--f it w--wasn't for S--S--Sally. D--d--don't l--like t--to b--be the one t--to t--tell on h--h--him, b--but wh--wh--who d--does? Wh--wh--who'll we t--tell?

Th--that's the q--q--question."

"C--c--can't t--tell S--S--Sally," Horry remarked.

"C--c--course we c--c--can't," Harry replied scornfully. "An--ny f--f--fool'd kn--n--now th--that."

"N--n--nor P--P--Patty," Horry remarked further.

They both grinned. Harry did not think the observation worthy of a reply.

"M--m--might t--tell D--D--Doc--Doc--tor S--S--San--n--d.a.m.n it. You kn--now."