Miss Sally, when the small boy Eliph' secured as a messenger had delivered the box of candy, knew well enough what it meant. The neatly written card, “From Yours very truly, E. Hewlitt,” did not suggest much, perhaps, but in Kilo friends do not scatter two-pound boxes of candy recklessly about. To receive a two-pound box on Christmas would have been a suspicious circumstance, for a smaller box would have done quite as well between friends, but to send a two-pound box on a day that was no holiday at all, but just a plain day of the week, could stand for but one of two things—the giver was insane, or he had “intentions,” and Miss Sally knew very well that Eliph' Hewlitt was not insane. Unless on the subject of Jarby's Encyclopedia.
She carried the box of candy to Mrs. Smith, and showed her the card.
“How lovely!” cried Mrs. Smith, an exclamation which might have meant either the box of candy or the sentiment that inspired the sender, and then added, “How odd! It smells like soap!”
“That's a sign it's good candy,” said Miss Sally. “The candy Rudge sells always smells of soap, an' he handles only the best, so when you see candy that smells that way you know it's good. This is Rudge's candy, sure enough, for I know this box by heart. Rudge has had it in his show case ever since the firm was Crimmins & Rudge. It must be some stale by this time, but the box is pretty.”
“I don't suppose Mr. Hewlitt knew it was stale,” said Mrs. Smith, “He evidently tried to get the best he could.”
“Yes,” admitted Miss Sally. “He wouldn't know this box of candy so well as we town folks do, him bein' a newcomer here. I suppose Rudge gave him a discount off the price on account of the box bein' soiled a little. I hope to goodness that man wasn't so foolish as to go an' pay straight sixty cents a pound for it. He got cheated if he did, an' I'll tell him so when I see him next.” She slowly untied the red ribbon that bound the box, and rolled it neatly around the fingers of her left hand, to lay away for future use. “Now, what do you suppose that man sent it to me for?” she asked.
Mrs. Smith smiled, for she knew Miss Sally was asking the question merely that she might have her own belief made sure by the words of another.
“Because he's in love, of course,” said Mrs. Smith. “Because he is desperately in love. It is a romance, my dear.”
Miss Sally looked doubtfully toward Susan, who was curled up on the old sofa in the corner of the room. She was not sure that such matters should be discussed before one so young, but Susan would have refused to leave the room, even if asked, and she resented the questioning glance that Miss Sally had thrown at Mrs. Smith.
“'Courtship—How to Make Love—How to Win the Affections—How To Hold Them When Won,'” she said gaily. “'First, get acquainted; second, make small presents, such as flowers, books or candy; third, ask for the lady's hand.' You needn't look at me that way, Miss Sally; I know all about it. I read it in Jarby's Encyclopedia.”