"Come right in, Dan. Glad to see you both. Mary's been looking for you. Sit down here on the porch where it's cool. Here, Lucy Ellen, here's Sarah and Daniel come to play with you."
"What on earth did John mean by saying my hair needed combing?" soliloquized Mary up-stairs, as she looked in the glass at the shining braids of her hair; "I fixed it just before dinner, and it's as smooth and nice as it can be." She hurried down to see that her guests lacked no attention demanded by hospitality. John was likely to be forgetful about such matters.
"I was just saying, Mary," Sally called out as soon as she caught sight of her hostess, "that Dan was on his way to town, and I'm going to stay here with the children till he comes back. But I want to lay the chart on my goods right away, for I'm afraid I've got a scant pattern for that tea jacket, and if I have, I can give Dan a sample of the goods, and he can bring me an extra yard from town. And if you'll bring the chart out, I'll lay off my goods right here and now, so Dan won't lose any time on my account."
"Oh! never mind about me," said Dan, with the air and accent of one who has suffered long and given up hope. "I've been losin' time on your account for the last fifteen years, and this trip ain't goin' to be an exception."
Every one laughed, for Sally's weakness was known of all men. Aunt Tabby McElrath once said that if the road from Dan's place to town was ten miles long, and there was a house every quarter of a mile, Sally would make just forty visits going and coming.
"Get the chart, John," said Mary, "and it won't take us two minutes to find out whether there's enough goods. It's on the top shelf of the old secretary in the parlor."
John went obediently. "Where did you say that chart was?" he called back.
"On the old secretary. I saw it there just before dinner," answered Mary.
"I saw it there, too," responded John, "but it ain't there now."
Mary hastened to the parlor. "Why no, it isn't here," she exclaimed in dismay. "Who could have taken it?"