“But I must come back. Truly I must. You will take me to a sale, a very strange sale. Will you not?”
“This morning if you like.”
“This very morning! How wonderful! And this is my luckee day!”
“This is the door, if you must go.”
“Truly I must.”
Merry led the way.
“But tell me,” said Jeanne as she stood at the foot of the stairway leading to the street. “If I go to this sale shall I buy something, a very small package all sealed up, very mysterious?”
“Y-yes, I think you may.” The Irish girl laughed a merry Irish laugh. “At this sale all packages are sealed. You don’t know what you buy. You really do not.”
The next moment Jeanne found herself tripping lightly over the dewy grass, bound for the spot beneath the willows where on many a morning before the world was awake, she had gone through her fairy-like dances undisturbed.