"Oh, yes." Sally seemed to feel that that was too sweeping. "That is," she added, "I—I like him."
Professor Ladue laughed lightly. Sally laughed, too, but in an embarrassed fashion.
"That is satisfactory. You couldn't qualify it, Sally, could you? Tried hard, didn't you?"
Sally flushed.
"Well," continued the professor, "if you chance to see this Fox Sanderson, or any relative of his, will you convey to him my deep sense of pleasure at his presence? I shall be obliged to Miss Ladue if she will do that."
"I will," said Sally gravely.
Professor Ladue bowed. So far as he was concerned, the interview was closed. So far as Sally was concerned, it was not.
"Well?" asked Sally. "May I bring Henrietta? You haven't answered that question, father."
"Dear me! What an incomprehensible omission! I must be getting old and forgetful. Old and forgetful, Sally. It is a state that we all attain if we do not die first."
"Yes," said Sally, "I suppose so. May I bring Henrietta, father?"