"'This is the matter,' she cried, waving something about, somewhere behind his ear. 'I've got my salary. And it's all my own and the first money I ever earned in my whole life.'
"The dear old man smiled again—or rather he hadn't stopped smiling. 'Bless your heart!' he said. 'What a terribly long time to wait, isn't it? But it's hardly true that it is the first money you ever earned. The first you ever were paid, perhaps, but you've been earning it for years, my dear, for years.'
"Sally kissed him. 'I'm afraid you're partial, Uncle John. But do you know what I'm going to do with my munificent salary?'
"Uncle John shook his head.
"'I should like to pay it to you, on account,' said Sally. 'Oh, I'm not going to,' she added hastily, seeing that he looked hurt, 'but I'm going to pay for all my clothes, after this, and mother's and Charlie's. I'm afraid it won't do much more, yet awhile, but give us pocket-money.'
"'Very well, Sally, if that will give you pleasure,' said Uncle John. 'I like to pay for your clothes, my dear, but just as you please.'
"Those are sentiments which a girl does not often hear. Have you, perhaps, said to somebody—but I won't ask. Sally's salary is enough to do much more than pay for our clothes now.
"Charlie goes to college this next fall. I think there is little or no doubt of his getting in. He did very well with his preliminaries last June. He is very bright, I think, but I sometimes tremble to think of all that lies before him. Do you realize, Fox, that Sally is almost twenty-one and that it is ten years—almost ten years—since that terrible time when—"
The letter broke off here. That last sentence must have started Mrs. Ladue upon her gazing out of the window.
Sally looked up soberly. "I'll add my request to yours, if you like," she remarked; "but it's hardly likely that Fox will come just because we ask him—in the middle of winter. He must be very busy. But I hope he'll come. I should dearly like to see him—and Henrietta, of course—" She interrupted herself.