Sally did not know just what she meant by that. "I've heard my father speak of John Hazen, Junior," she remarked, "and I didn't know but, perhaps, I might have a Cousin John." BOOK II CHAPTER I Sally was tolerably happy after she got settled. She had cried a few tears into Fox's coat when he was going away and she had sent many messages to Henrietta and to Doctor Galen and to her mother, although she knew that her mother would receive them with her pitiful, vacant smile and would go on wondering where Sally was. She had been told, of course, over and over, but could not seem to grasp the reason or, indeed, the fact. Sally had wiped her eyes and sighed. "I'm not going to cry any more," she had said; "and I shan't be unhappy, Fox. I just won't be." "You've had a good deal to make you unhappy, Sally," Fox had replied gently, "but I do hope that you won't be. You can trust Doctor Galen to do the very best for your mother." "Yes," Sally had returned, smiling; "you and Doctor Galen. You forgot, Fox. And I'm glad that father has gone away. I'm glad--glad," Sally cried passionately. "He didn't do a thing for mother. He only liked to make her feel bad. She'd have died if he'd stayed. And I hope you'll never find him. I hope you never will." "We're not breaking our necks, trying." "I'm glad of it. Oh, Fox, I've never said such a thing before, and I never will again. But I just had to or I should have burst. Don't you tell, will you? Don't ever tell _anybody_." Fox had promised and had kissed her and had started back, feeling comforted. It was very much better than he had expected, and Sally had made up her mind. There was everything in that. Sally woke early the next morning. It was not quite light, if it ever could be said to be quite light in that house. But a little light had begun to filter in around the curtains, and Sally looked about the great, dim room, wondering for a moment where she was. Then she remembered; she remembered, too, that Uncle John had breakfast early. Cousin Martha had forgotten to tell her at what time to get up, but there could be no harm in getting up now. Charlie had a little room off her own big one, probably the dressing-room. At that instant Charlie appeared, wandering hesitatingly, clad only in his little pajamas, which had caused some surprise on Cousin Martha's part. "Oh, how very cunning!" she had exclaimed, as Sally unpacked them. Now Charlie made a dive for Sally's bed. "I want to get in with you, Sally."