Families -- Fiction; Girls -- Conduct of life -- Fiction; Young women -- Conduct of life -- Fiction
Sally's face expressed a curious mingling of anxiety and relief. "I
won't read it if you don't want me to," she said. "But--but what--how
shall we get any money?"
"Don't you worry about that. We'll manage to raise a few cents when we
need to."
Fox had said "we" and that seemed to comfort Sally. Fox turned to the
doctor.
"The environment has taken care of itself," he remarked; and the
doctor smiled.
CHAPTER XI
It was in all the papers. The honorable provost seemed to wish that
the fact of Professor Ladue's break with the authorities of the
university should be known, and he graciously allowed himself to be
interviewed on the subject once a week. As was to be expected, but one
side of the question was presented in these interviews, but that may
have worked no injury to Mr. Ladue, who received undeserved credit for
his silence. It was just as well. In none of those interviews did the
honorable provost give out the letter that Mr. Ladue had written. That
letter contained certain pointed passages which the press should not
get hold of, if he could help it. Mr. Ladue had some reason to be
proud.
Then the reporters began to come out to Mr. Ladue's house, in the hope
of an interview with him. They did manage to get a few words with
Sally, but the words were very few and then Fox came in. So it came
about that Fox Sanderson spent most of his time, from breakfast-time
until bedtime, at the Ladues'. Naturally, Henrietta was there, too.
Sally was well content with any arrangement which brought them both
there all the time.
Those would have been hard times with the Ladues if it had not been
for Fox Sanderson. Mrs. Ladue owned the place, to be sure, but she
owned very little else; hardly more than enough to pay the taxes. And
if Mr. Ladue had been a hard man to extract money from, at least he
had kept the tradesmen satisfied; or, if not satisfied, they were
never sufficiently dissatisfied to refuse to supply the necessities.
It was a different case now, and Sally wondered a good deal how they
contrived to get along. She knew that Fox was managing their affairs,
but things had been going on in this way for a long time before she
got to the point of wondering whether he was supplying the money. She
reached that point at last, and she asked Fox about it.
She had waited until she got him alone and was sure that they would
not be interrupted.
"Fox," she asked without preamble, "where do we get our money?"
Fox was taken by surprise. He had not been expecting any question of
the kind. He found himself embarrassed and hesitating.
"Why," he answered, not looking at her, "why--our money? Er--what do
you want to know for?"
Sally was regarding him steadily. "Because," she replied, "I think I
ought to. Where do we get it?"
"Oh, don't you care, Sally," said Fox carelessly. "We get it
honestly."
Sally's earnest regard did not waver. "Of course we get it honestly.
But where? I think you ought to tell me, Fox. Do you give it to us?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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