"Now, Fox," she was saying, "how in the world did you happen to turn up just at that moment? You were in the nick of time." "Oh, I don't know about that. You would probably have left them. They were about all in, both of them. But I didn't happen to turn up. It wasn't any accident. I was looking for you." Unconsciously, Sally tightened her hold upon his arm. "Oh," she murmured, "that was nice!" "I only got here this afternoon," Fox continued, paying no obvious attention to her murmured remark, "and I went right to Mrs. Stump's. I found your mother a little upset and rather anxious, but I didn't succeed in finding out what it was about." He did not say--perhaps he did not know--how upset Mrs. Ladue had been. She had been torn by conflicting emotions, and she showed evidences of it. But there had been never a moment's hesitation about the course she would pursue. Only she had raised troubled, tearful eyes to Fox, and had said--but what Mrs. Ladue had said forms no part of this chronicle. Whatever she said, she did not tell him clearly of the rumors connecting Everett's name with Sally's. He would hear those rumors soon enough, if there was anything in them; if there was not, for that matter. Sally had been thinking. "I am afraid," she said softly, "that it was about me. I hoped she was all over it when I left." Fox turned his head and looked at her, but he did not reply to her remark directly. "She said that you had gone for a walk, but she didn't know where. I waited a long time, thinking you might come in. Your mother and I had a long talk." Sally would have given a good deal to know what the long talk was about. "It--it isn't true, Fox," she began slowly. "What! It is true, too. We talked for an hour and forty minutes, while I was waiting. I know." Sally laughed nervously. "I--I meant that anything you may hear about me isn't true." "Clear as mud, Sally. Well, I'll remember. Anything that I hear about you isn't true. But I'm not likely to hear the voice of rumor especially if it's about you." Sally made no reply to this, and Fox went on. "When it began to grow dark, I made some inquiries, and I found a certain person who had seen you go out; and you had met a man at the next corner--Who was the man, Sally?" "Everett," Sally replied briefly; and she started to say more, but thought better of it--or worse, as you like--and shut her lips tight together. "Oh, yes, she said she thought it was Everett. I thought that, perhaps, she was mistaken." "No," said Sally, "she was not mistaken." "Hum!" said Fox, smiling to himself; but Sally could not see that. "And this exceedingly well-informed person said that you and Everett evidently had a spat on the street corner, and that he went off, mad." "Yes," said Sally, nodding. She might have known that Fox couldn't see the nod.