"Let me know how you come on with your schemes," the doctor said. "I am really interested. And, if you find it possible to give me a half-hour with your patient, I hope you will do so. It will be much better. Good-bye, Mr. Sanderson." "I will," said Fox. "Good-bye, Doctor." The doctor shut the door and touched a button on his desk. He was still smiling. A nurse appeared noiselessly. "A nice boy, that, Miss Mather, and a deserving case," he commented. "I should be glad to be able to believe that all my patients were as deserving. But I shouldn't make much," he added. Miss Mather smiled, but made no other reply. The doctor was looking over a little pile of cards. He took up the card from the top of the pile. "Mrs. Van Hoofe, Miss Mather." The nurse disappeared as noiselessly as she had come; and the doctor proceeded to smooth out his smile and to assume a properly sympathetic expression. Mrs. Van Hoofe would, perhaps, help him with his grocer's bills. CHAPTER IX Fox was not immediately able to compass the end that was so much to be desired, but he did it, at last, not without misgivings. If Professor Ladue had known, what would he have thought--and said--about such interference with his domestic affairs? There were misgivings on Mrs. Ladue's part, too, and Fox had to overcome those. She was in no condition to combat Fox's wish, poor lady!--especially as it was her own wish, so far as she had any wish in the matter; and she knew that Sally had her heart set upon it. This is the way it happened. Sally had been regular in her attendance at the dancing-class, all winter, and she had applied herself conscientiously to learn what she went to learn, with more or less success. There is no doubt that she learned the steps, but there is no less doubt that she failed to get the Spirit of Dancing. Indeed,--I speak with hesitation,--the Spirit of Dancing is born, not made. And how should Sally get it if she did not have it already? How should she get it if she did have it already, for that matter? It is not a thing that can be bought; it resembles happiness in that respect. And, although one may buy a very fair kind of an imitation of either, the real thing comes from within. Henrietta had had the Spirit of Dancing born in her; in regard to Sally there is some doubt. So, if Sally's success was not glittering, it was better than Henrietta had feared it would be, and she breathed a sigh of relief at the close of the last day. Sally breathed a sigh of relief, too. She was unaffectedly glad that it was over. Mrs. Ladue, then experiencing one of her ups, planned a party for Sally and invited the whole dancing-class to it. It was to be a birthday party and was to be on the nineteenth of April, when Sally would have completed her eleventh year. Sally had always been glad that her birthday happened to come on the nineteenth of April, for it was a great help in remembering Leading Dates in American History--or one of them, at least.