“Down to Mis’ Pepper’s?” repeated his wife. “Has anything happened there?”
“No,” said Mr. Atkins, and then the story came out.
Just then there was a vigorous knocking set up at their front door. It was so imperative that both the storekeeper and his wife hastened with all speed to answer it.
“I thought you was never comin’.” Little Sally Brown stood there on the step with a very injured countenance.
“You only just knocked,” said Mrs. Atkins, exasperated. “Now what do you want?”
“Some sugar—” said Sally; “two pounds—” Mr. Atkins, when he saw who the visitor was, had retreated a few steps with premonitions of a call to the store.
“Sugar?” he now cried sharply; “at this time of night—the store’s all shet up.”
“Yes,” said Sally, “we’ve got comp’ny.”
This piece of news, ordinarily exciting enough to be followed up, was cut in twain by Mr. Atkins suddenly crying out, as he pressed forward eagerly, “See here, you’ll go to Mis’ Pepper’s for me, Sally?”
“No,” said Sally, decidedly; “I’m goin’ home.”