"Bless me! So you have, Sally. It seems only last week that you came; and yet, you have always been with us. Well, my dear, I don't find myself quite ready to send you off again, and so I advise you to dismiss the puzzling question from your mind for a day or two. Better let me bother over it awhile. Fox can wait for a few days. He won't mind, will he?"
"No," she said, smiling, "Fox won't mind. He has been waiting four years already."
"Fox is an excellent young man," Mr. Hazen murmured. "I must see what Patty has to say."
Patty had a good deal to say. She came to her father in a hurry and in some agitation that same evening, after Sally had gone to bed. It saved him the trouble of introducing the subject and put the burden of proof on the other side. Not that it mattered particularly to Mr. Hazen where the burden of proof lay. He was accustomed to have his own quiet way. In fact, consultation with Patty was rather an empty formality; but it was a form which he always observed scrupulously.
"Oh, father," she began, rather flurried, "what do you suppose Sally has just told me? Her mother—"
"I know. I was meaning to speak to you about it."
"I am all upset. I can't bear to think of sending Charlie away now." There were tears in poor Miss Patty's eyes.
Mr. Hazen could not quite repress a smile. "True," he said; "I had forgotten him."
"Oh, father!" Miss Patty exclaimed reproachfully. "How could you?"
"It is incomprehensible, but I was thinking of Sally. Never mind, Patty, it comes to the same thing in the end. Would it be quite convenient to ask Sarah Ladue to come here?"