"I fear you are a deep one," remarked the Candy Man.

"No, I'm not, but I'm rather good at thinking of things," Virginia owned
complacently. "And then," she continued, "I poked around the rose bush,
and peeped in at the window, and sure enough she was there, brushing the
hearth. She saw me and came to the window, and when I ran away, 'cause
I thought maybe she was mad, she rapped, and then opened the window and
called: 'Come in, little girl, and talk to me.' And now who do you think
she turned out to be?"

A suspicion had been deepening in the Candy Man's breast for the last
few moments. His heart actually thumped. "Not--you don't mean----?"

Virginia nodded violently. "Yes, the lady who fell and got muddy. And
she's perfectly lovely, and I'm going there again. She asked me to."

Why, oh, why should such luck fall to the lot of a long-legged,
freckle-nosed little girl, and not to him, the Candy Man wondered.
He burned to ask innumerable questions, but compromised on one. Did
Virginia know whether or not she had come to stay?

"Why, I guess so. She didn't have her hat on, and she was cleaning
up--dusting, you know, and taking things out of a box."

"What sort of things?"

"Books and sofa pillows and pictures. I helped her, and by and by Uncle
Bob came in."

"And what did he say?" asked the Candy Man, just to keep her going.