If Sally had stopped to think of it at all she might have wondered why her mother seemed so glad that she was going to Fox's. But her mind was taken up with thoughts of her father, to the exclusion of everything and everybody else--but one, and Sally was not aware of the exception. Fox was the only person she was free to tell about her father and she was looking forward to it. When she had shared her knowledge--with somebody--it would be less of a burden. It never occurred to her that he might not be glad to know. Wasn't he always glad to know of anything which concerned her--anything at all? And as Sally thought these thoughts a vivid blush spread over her face and her throat. It was a pity that there was nobody to see it. Fox met her at the door. There was a questioning smile on his face as he took her hand. He led the way into his office and Sally sank into an armchair that stood by the table. Fox drew another chair near and sat down. Then he took a little slip of paper from his pocket and laid it by her elbow. "The rent," he said. Sally laughed, but she let it lie there. "Well?" Fox asked. "Well!" She found that she had very little to say and that little did not come readily. "It is nice to get into a chair that is comfortable without swallowing you whole--as if it would never give you up." She patted an arm of the chair nervously. "I like these low arms." "Yes," said Fox, "so do I. And--there is no hurry, Sally. Would you like to rest there--just sit and be comfortable for a while? You can have had very little real rest for some time and you must have had much to tire you. Just exactly as you please. I am entirely at your service--as I am always," he added, in a low voice. "I can be attending to my work, and you could begin whenever you were ready, or I will give my undivided attention now." "Have you got work," Sally began hastily, "that--" "Oh, there's no hurry about it." And Fox smiled quietly. "But there's enough to do. Routine, mostly." "Could you do it with me here? Wouldn't you--" "Couldn't I!" Fox smiled again. "It adds a great deal to my peace of mind to have you in the same room with me, even when you aren't saying anything. And peace of mind, Sally, is--" "Yes, I know," said Sally, interrupting. "Well, let's try it. You go to your desk and work and I'll sit here and rest. And when the spirit moves me I'll speak." So Fox went to his desk and Sally watched him as he became more and more absorbed; and, as she watched, there came a light into her eyes which had not been there before. Still she said nothing; only leaned her head back against the chair and watched. Once he looked back at her and smiled. He almost caught that light--that look in her eyes, but Sally managed to quench it in time. "Resting, Sally?" he asked. She nodded and he turned back to his desk. The work did not seem difficult. Sally wondered, and in her wonder she forgot, for the moment. "Couldn't I do that, Fox?"