"Are there four of you?" Miss Salome asked, abruptly. It was the Little Blue Overalls' turn to start now. "_Me?_--gracious! four o' me? I guess you're out o' your head, aren't-- Oh, you mean _child'en!_ Well, there's five, 'thout countin' the spandy new one--she's too little to count." Five--six, with the spandy new one! Miss Salome's gaze wandered from the piles of books on the floor to the empty packing-boxes, as if trying to find the shortest distance. "There are only four pairs on the line," she murmured, weakly,--"stockings," she added. The Little Blue Overalls nodded comprehendingly. "I don't wear 'em summers,--I guess you didn't notice I was in my bare feet, did you? Well, I am. It's a savin'. The rest are nothing but girls--I'm all the boy we've got. Boys are tough. But I don't s'pose you ever was one, so you don't know?" There was an upward inflection to the voice of the Little Blue Overalls. An answer seemed expected. "No--no, I never was one," Miss Salome said, hastily. She could hear Anne's plodding steps in the hall. It would be embarrassing to have Anne come in now. But the footsteps plodded by. After more conversation on a surprising number of topics, the Little Blue Overalls climbed out of the chair. "I've had a 'joyable time, an' I'll be pleased to come again, thank you," he said, with cheerful politeness. "I'm glad you've come,--I like you, but I hope you'll sweep your floor." He retreated a few steps, then faced about again and advanced into the enemy's near neighborhood. He was holding out a very small, brown, unwashed hand. "I forgot 'bout shakin' hands," he smiled. "Le's. I hope you like me, too, an' I guess you do, don't you? Everybody does. Nobody ever _didn't_ like me in my life, an' I'm seven. Good-bye." Miss Salome heard him patter down the hall, and she half thought--she was not sure--that at the kitchen door he stopped. Half an hour afterwards she saw a very small person crossing the rose-garden. If there was something in his hands that he was eating, Miss Salome never asked Anne about it. It was not her way to ask Anne questions. It was not Anne's way to ask her. The letter to John was finished, oddly enough, without further mention of--it. Miss Salome got the broom and swept the bare big room carefully. She hummed a little as she worked. Out in the kitchen Anne was humming too. "It is a pleasant little place, especially the stone-wall and the woodbine," Miss Salome was thinking; "I'm glad I specified woodbine and stone-walls. John would never have thought. So many other things are pleasant, too; but, dear, dear, it is very unfortunate about that one thing!" Still Miss Salome hummed, and after tea she got Anne to help her move out the empty packing-boxes. The next day the Little Blue Overalls came again. This time he was a peddler, with horse-chestnut "apples" to sell, and rose-petal pies. He said they were bargains.