Sally ran straight upstairs, leaving Ann to close the door. She at once discharged her mind of its burden, more suo.
"Prosy thinks so, too!"
"Thinks what?"
"Thinks they'll go and get married one fine morning, whether or no!"
But she seemed to be the only one much excited about this. Something was preoccupying the other two minds, and our Sally had not the remotest notion what.
Nevertheless, it came about that before the next Monday—the day of Sally's departure with her mother to St. Sennans-on-Sea—that young person paid a farewell visit to the obese mother of her medical adviser, and found her knitting.
"That, my dear, is what I am constantly saying to Conrad," was her reply to a suggestion of Sally's that she wanted change and rest. "Only this very morning, when he came into my room to see that I had fresh-made toast—because you know, my dear, how tiresome servants are about toast—they make it overnight, and warm it up in the morning. Cook is no exception, and I have complained till I'm tired. I should be sorry to change, she's been here so long, but I did hear the other day of such a nice respectable person...."
Sally interrupted, catching at a slight pause: "But when Dr. Conrad came into your room, what did he say?"