“What, start to-night?” Max’s tone was incredulous.

“So she wants to do—­with your permission.  I suppose you’ll give it.  By the despatch we judge he’s pretty ill.”

“Well, but—­look here.  I must say that’s asking a good deal for her to go off up there.  Why not wire whoever sent the thing to keep us informed, and if he gets much worse—­”

“Won’t do, she’s already answered she’ll go.”

“Well, of all the—­see here—­but we can’t really afford—­”

“I’ll see to that—­don’t mention it.”  Jarvis’s tone was curt.  He was beginning to sympathize with Sally’s reluctance to consult her elder brother.  He wondered if Max would ever outgrow his habit of objecting to everything first and unwillingly taking it into consideration afterward.

“I’m awfully busy here—­can’t do a thing to get her off—­can’t get away from the bank before five.”

“Don’t try.  Meet us at the train.  I’ll engage a berth for her—­mustn’t lose more time about it,” and Jarvis hang-up his receiver without waiting to hear anything further.  Then he had a wrestle with the Pullman ticket-office, in the attempt to secure a full sleeping-car section for Sally.

“Can’t do it,” came back the answer.

“Too full?”

“No, but we don’t give a section to one passenger.”

“Not if it’s paid for?”

“Not on one ticket.”

“On two tickets, then?”

“Why, of course, if you want to pay for two full-fare tickets.”

Jarvis considered rapidly.  If he secured the section on two tickets, Sally would be forced to show them both, so she couldn’t be kept from knowing about it—­unless he—­yes, he could hunt up the Pullman conductor and give him one ticket.  Wait—­why not engage a state-room—­if he could get it at this late hour?—­though the train was a fast and popular one, and he knew this was doubtful.  But a moment’s reflection negatived this idea.  Sally would certainly resent his taking the liberty of paying all the difference between one ordinary berth and a luxuriously private state-room.  He realized, with a sense of irritation, that it was of no use.  He could not send Sally up into New Hampshire packed in jewellers’ cotton, marked “Fragile and Valuable,” a registered package conveyed by special messenger.  But he could make sure that nobody else shared the section either by night or day, and this he did, and double-tied his reservation until he could get to town to see about it personally.

Then he ran over to the Ferry cottage, thinking that Sally might be glad, in the absence of the girls, to have Mrs. Ferry come over and help her with her hurried preparations.  But he found the place locked and silent, and understood that the mistress of it had probably gone into town for the day, as she frequently did.  So he dashed back and upstairs to Joanna’s room, where he routed her from her sewing with the request:  “Go see if you can be mother, sister, and friend to Miss Sally, Joanna—­there’s an angel!” Which intimate form of address may be comprehended if it is added that Joanna had been in the Burnside family since Jarvis himself was a small lad in knickerbockers—­and the good woman’s especial pride—­and that therefore a warm friendship existed between them.