[Sidenote: "Fred!"]
"Come in," she said, in answer to a light tap. And the last face that
she expected to see appeared. "_Fred!_" broke from her. "Mr. Ferris!"
"No, please--I like 'Fred' best!" He came close, noting with joy how her
face had in an instant parted with its gravity. "Why did you not come to
us to-day?" he asked earnestly.
"I couldn't."
"Not--because you wanted to stay away?"
"Oh no!"
"Could not your sister have been the one at home?"
Joan spoke gently. "You see, Mittie has never before spent a day at your
house. She wanted it so much."
"And you--did you want it, too--ever so little? Would you have cared to
come, Joan?"
Joan only smiled. She felt happy beyond words.
"I've got to take you there now, if you'll come. For the night,
perhaps--or at least for the evening. Mittie has had a wetting"--he
called the younger girl by her name half-unconsciously--"and they have
put her to bed for fear of a chill. And she wants you."
Naturally Joan was a good deal concerned, though Fred made little of the
accident. He explained more fully, and an appeal to the old lady brought
permission.
"Not for the night, child--I can't spare you for that, but for the
evening. Silly little goose Mittie is!"
And Fred, with delight, carried Joan off.
"So Mrs. Wills can't do without you, even for one night," he said, when
they were spinning along the high road, he and she behind and the
chauffeur in front.
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