“He has no friend but me, and I will not desert him now. I will not marry him if his moral character is bad; but if he can prove that it isn’t, I will—and he shall have the chance. To me he seems utterly good and dear; I’ve never seen anything about him that looked otherwise—except, of course, his calling himself an earl’s son. Maybe that is only vanity, and no real harm, when you get to the bottom of it. I do not believe he is any such person as you have painted him. I want to see him. I want you to find him and send him to me. I will implore him to be honest with me, and tell me the whole truth, and not be afraid.”
“Very well; if that is your decision I will do it. But Sally, you know, he’s poor, and—”
“Oh, I don’t care anything about that. That’s neither here nor there. Will you bring him to me?”
“I’ll do it. When?—”
“Oh, dear, it’s getting toward dark, now, and so you’ll have to put it off till morning. But you will find him in the morning, won’t you? Promise.”
“I’ll have him here by daylight.”
“Oh, now you’re your own old self again—and lovelier than ever!”
“I couldn’t ask fairer than that. Good-bye, dear.”
Sally mused a moment alone, then said earnestly, “I love him in spite of his name!” and went about her affairs with a light heart.