Sally put down her book suddenly and gave him a startled glance. "Oh," she exclaimed, "I hope not! Who told you?"
"Dick Torrington. He is the executor."
"Oh, Fox!" she cried. She seemed dismayed. "And Dick knows. But Patty will never forgive me. Can't I help it?"
"No doubt," he replied, smiling, "but I hope you won't, for I want to buy some of your property."
She laughed joyously. "I'll give it to you, you mercenary man! At last, Fox, I can get even with you—but only partly," she hastened to add; "only partly. Please say that you'll let me give it to you."
Fox was embarrassed. "Bless you, Sally!" he said. At that moment, he was very near to heeding Mrs. Ladue's injunction not to wait too long. He stopped in time. "Bless you, Sally! You have paid me. I don't need money anyway."
"Neither do I."
"The time may come when you will. It is a handy thing to have," he went on. "I promise to let you pay me some day," he added hastily, seeing that she was about to insist, "in kind."
Sally nodded with satisfaction. "I'll do it," she said, "in kind. That usually means potatoes and corn and firewood, doesn't it."
"Not this time, it doesn't. But I can't let you think of giving me these places."