The tears came to Mrs. Ladue's eyes. "Bless you, dear child! But how can you, dear, all alone? No, Sally. If you must go, I'll get up and go with you."
"Oh, mother, you mustn't, you mustn't. I can get Fox to go with me. I know he will. I promise not to go unless I can get Fox--or some one--to go."
"Some grown person, Sally?" Mrs. Ladue asked anxiously.
"Yes," answered Sally, almost smiling, "some grown person. That is," she added, "if you call Fox Sanderson a grown person."
"Fox Sanderson is a dear good boy," replied Mrs. Ladue. "I wish you had a brother like him, Sally,--just like him."
"I wish I did," said Sally, "but I haven't. The next best thing is to have him just Fox Sanderson. Will you be satisfied with him, mother, dear,--if I can get him to go?"
Again Mrs. Ladue smiled. "Quite satisfied, dear. I can trust you, Sally, and you don't know what a relief that is."
"No," said Sally, "I s'pose I don't." Nevertheless she may have had some idea.
That thought probably occurred to her mother, for she laughed a little tremulously. "Kiss me, darling, and go along."
So Sally kissed her mother, tenderly and again and again, and turned away. But her mother called her back.
"Sally, there is a ticket in my bureau, somewhere. And, if you can find my purse, you had better take that, too. I think there is nearly two dollars in it. It is a pretty small sum for Christmas shopping, but I shall be glad if you spend it all."
Sally turned to kiss her mother again. "I shan't spend it all," she said.
She rummaged until she found the ticket and the purse; and, with a last good-bye to her mother, she was gone. Mrs. Ladue sighed. "The darling!" she said, under her breath.
Sally met Fox and Henrietta just outside her own gate. "Oh," she cried, "it's lucky, for you're exactly the persons I wanted to see."
"Well, Sally," Fox said, smiling, "what's up now?"
"I'm going to town," Sally answered, less calmly than usual. She laid her hand on his arm as she spoke. "That is, I'm going if I can find somebody to go with me."
Fox laughed. "Is that what you call a hint, Sally? Will we do?"
"It isn't a hint," said Sally, flushing indignantly. "That is,--it wasn't meant for one. I was going to ask you if you had just as lief go as not. I've got a ticket and there are--let's see"--she took out her ticket and counted--"there are seven trips on it. That's enough. Would you just as lief?"