"Fox," she protested, "you are wrong about Sally. She isn't cold at all, not at all. She is as glad to see you as I am--almost. And I am glad." "That is something to be grateful for, dear lady," he said. "I would not have you think that I am not grateful--very grateful. It is one of the blessings showered upon me by a very heedless providence," he continued, smiling, "unmindful of my deserts." "Oh, Fox!" she protested. "Your deserts! If you had--" He interrupted gently. "I know. The earth ought to be laid at my feet. I know what you think and I am grateful for that, too." To this there was no reply. "I think," he resumed reflectively, "that enough of the earth is laid at my feet, as it is. I shall not be thirty until next fall." He spoke with a note of triumph, which can easily be forgiven. "And I," she said, "am forty-three. Look at my gray hairs." He laughed. "Who would believe it? But what," he asked, "was the special reason for your wanting to see me now? I take it there was a special reason?" She shook her head. "There wasn't any _special_ reason. I meant to make that plain and I thought I had. I feel as if I ought to apologize for asking you at all, for you may have felt under some obligation to come just because you were asked. I hope you didn't, Fox, for--" Fox smiled quietly. His smile made her think of Uncle John Hazen. "I didn't," he said. "I'm glad you didn't. Don't ever feel obliged to do anything for me--for us." She corrected herself quickly. "We are grateful, too,--at least, I am--for anything. No, there wasn't any special reason. I just wanted to see you with my own eyes. Four years is a long time." Fox, who had almost reached the advanced age of thirty, was plainly embarrassed. "Well," he asked, laughing a little, "now that you have seen me, what do you think?" "That," she answered, still in her tone of gentle banter, "I shall not tell you. It would not be good for you." A step was heard in the hall. "Oh," she added, hastily, in a voice that was scarcely more than a whisper, "here's Patty. Be nice to her, Fox." However much--or little--Mrs. Ladue's command had to do with it, Fox was as nice to Patty as he knew how to be. To be sure, Fox had had much experience with just Patty's kind in the past four years, and he had learned just the manner for her. It was involuntary on his part, to a great extent, and poor Patty beamed and fluttered and was very gracious. She even suggested something that she had had no expectation of suggesting when she entered the room.