“Have you, now?” he asked, curiously. “What is it?”
“’Tis something,” said she, “t’ make you glad.”
“Come, tell me!” he cried, his eyes shining.
“I’ve heard you say,” she went on, smiling softly, “that you’d be willin’ t’ give anything t’ find it. I’ve heard you say that–––”
“’Tis a silver fox!”
“I’ve heard you say,” she continued, shaking her head, “‘Oh,’ I’ve heard you say, ‘if I could only find it I’d be happy.’”
“Tell me!” he coaxed. “Please tell me!” 36
She laid a hand on his shoulder. The remnant of the Montreal Weekly Globe and Family Messenger she held behind her.
“’Tis a cure for Jimmie,” said she.
“No!” he cried, incredulous; but there was yet the ring of hope in his voice. “Have you, now?”