"Ask Cousin Sarah to come here to live?" Miss Patty echoed, in some consternation.
"Why, yes, Patty. I understand that she is likely to live and—"
"Oh, father!" Miss Patty cried again. "You know I didn't mean—"
"I don't pretend," Mr. Hazen resumed, smiling, "to any particular love for Sarah, whom I never saw more than once or twice in my life. Even that must have been many years ago. But, as I recollect, she was a pretty, unassuming young woman whom I thought, at the time, altogether too good for Charles." Miss Patty looked shocked. "Oh, there is nothing gained by pretending to be blind to Charles's weakness. He was a gambler before he left college. I knew it very well. There was nothing to be done. Meddling with other people's children is a vice, Patty. It never does any good. I have some misgivings—" Mr. Hazen paused abruptly. There seemed to him nothing to be gained by following out that line of thought either.
"Some misgivings about what, father?" Patty prompted.
"It doesn't matter, Patty. I have too many misgivings about everything. It is the fault of age. As I come to think of it, Sally looks like her mother. I hope her character—but Sally's character is all right. As to Sarah, we have spare rooms, haven't we?"
"Ye—es," assented Miss Patty reluctantly. She hated to give in, but she might have known that she would have to. She did know it. "But, father,—supporting the whole family—"
"There is no question," said Mr. Hazen quietly; and Patty knew that there was no more to be said. "It is a choice between letting that young Mr. Sanderson support them,—which he would be very glad to do, Patty,—and asking Sarah to come here. I much prefer to ask her. I wish to keep Sally with us and you are not willing to let Charlie go. On this plan we shall keep them both. Will you write to Sarah, proposing it? Write as cordially as you can, Patty, will you? Thank you."
So it happened that Mrs. Ladue came to Whitby in September. It could not be said to have happened, perhaps, but, at all events, she came. They all went down behind the stout horse to meet her; all but Uncle John. There were Cousin Patty and Charlie and Sally herself. Sally's eyes were very bright and there was the old spot of brilliant color in either cheek. Uncle John noticed it. He patted her hand as she got into the carryall, but he did not speak. Miss Patty did, after they got started. Sally was sitting up very straight and she was looking straight ahead and the spots of color were in her cheeks still. It was much as she had looked when she went away from her old home that she so loved. Miss Patty could not understand it. She was even a little afraid, I think.
"Sally," she said hesitatingly, "don't—don't look so—so strained. Surely, this is not a time to feel worried or anxious. Surely, this is a—a joyous occasion."