"Sally," she began hesitatingly. Sally turned her head. "Well?" "I have heard some rumors, Sally," Mrs. Ladue went on, hesitating more than ever, "about--about Everett. I didn't believe there was any truth in them and I have said so. I was right, wasn't I? There isn't anything, is there?" "What sort of thing?" Sally did not seem to care. "What were the rumors, mother?" "Why," said her mother, with a little laugh of embarrassment, "they were most absurd; that Everett was paying you marked attention and that you were encouraging him." "No, that is not so. I have not encouraged him." Her answer seemed to excite Mrs. Ladue. "Well, is it true that he is--that he has been paying you attention for a long time?" "I have seen him more or less, but it is nothing that I have been trying to conceal from you. What does it matter?" "It matters very much, dear; oh, very much." Mrs. Ladue was silent for a moment. "Then I gather," she resumed in a low voice, "that you have not discouraged his attentions?" "No," Sally replied listlessly, "I have not discouraged them. Assuming that they are anything more than accident, I--what do I care? It makes no difference to me." "Oh, Sally!" Tears came into Mrs. Ladue's eyes. "You must know better than any one else whether he means anything or not; what his intentions are." "He may not have any intentions," Sally answered. "I don't know what he means--but that is not true; not strictly. I know what he says, but not what he thinks. I don't believe there is anybody who knows what Everett thinks." And she gave a little laugh which was almost worse than one of her smiles. "His intentions, assuming that he has any, are well enough." The situation seemed to be worse than Mrs. Ladue had imagined in her most doubtful moments. "But, Sally," she said anxiously, "is there--oh, I hate to ask you, but I must. Is there any kind of an understanding between you and Everett?" "Not on my part, mother," Sally replied rather wearily. "Now let's talk about something else." "Be patient with my questions just a little longer," said her mother gently. "I can't drop the subject there. Has--do you think Everett has any right to understand anything that you don't? Have you let him understand anything?" Sally did not answer for what seemed to her mother a long time. "I don't know," she answered at last, "what he thinks. To be perfectly plain, Everett has not asked me to marry him, but he may feel sure what my answer would be if he did decide to. I don't know. He is a very sure kind of a person, and he has reason to be. That is the extent of the understanding, as you call it." "But, surely, you know what your answer would be," remonstrated Mrs. Ladue in a low voice. "It isn't right, Sally, to let him think one thing when you mean to do the opposite. I hope," she added, struck by a fresh doubt--a most uncomfortable doubt, "that you do mean to do the opposite. There can be no question about that, can there?"