“Poor little rich girl!” he said to himself, as he went away. “She’ll have something new to amuse her now.”
The next noon Jeanie came home from school in a quiver of excitement. Sandy met her with a rueful face. “It ain’t come, Jeanie,” he cried reproachfully.
“But Valentine’s Day isn’t over yet,” laughed Jeanie gaily. And, dinner dispatched as soon as possible, she took her stand at the window.
At that moment, several blocks away, the postman was again stopping at the door of the great stone house.
“I’m so glad that you showed me your valentine,” the little girl on the crutch was saying, with sparkling eyes, “else I’d never have known anything about them. Thank you so much. It’s the best fun I ever had.”
It seemed a long time to Jeanie, stationed at the window, before the familiar blue coat came in sight.
“Oh, here he comes, Sandy!” she cried at last, clasping her hands tightly together, “and he sees me, and he’s waving something white!”
Jeanie flew to the door and opened it before the postman had time to ring.
“For Master Sandy Keith,” he announced, holding out a great white envelope.
“That’s him, that’s him!” cried Jeanie wildly, pointing to Sandy, who, regardless of mumps, had followed her. “Oh, thank you, Mister Postman! I knew you’d come. But where did you ever find such a big one?”