Miss Neppy, when she heard Sally’s story, was very much surprised.
‘Land sakes!’ exclaimed Miss Neppy, ‘I never missed that apron when I put the others away. And I left it on the top of the pile, too, because, when I ironed it, I saw that the hem was ripped. Go get the apron, Sally, and let us look at it, do.’
Out of the lowest dresser drawer Sally pulled the apron, all crumpled into a ball. And, would you believe it, when Sally and Miss Neppy and Father looked at it, the apron was not torn at all, the hem was only ripped. It seemed too good to be true.
‘Mother will mend it,’ said Sally joyfully. ‘She told me to bring it home with me. Mother will mend it, Miss Neppy.’
And Sally put both arms about Miss Neppy’s neck and gave her a tight, tight hug.
In the morning, bright and early, Sally ran over to Miss Neppy’s again, with the apron nicely mended and freshly ironed in her arms.
‘Next time I will tell the very first thing, Miss Neppy,’ said Sally, smiling up into her friend’s face.
Miss Neppy smiled back.
‘I would,’ said she. ‘Never keep a secret like that again. And, Sally, there is a peach for you on the window-sill. Don’t spill it on your dress.’