At the grocery they met Sally, with all four children, and two small children more, and Aunt Mart had her usual kisses.  Sally was afraid that Grace’s baby boy had the measles, she confided to her sister, and had taken the twins for a time.

“Martie, how smart you look, and Ted all dressed up!” said Sally.  “And look at my tramps in their old clothes!  Mart, do go past Mason and White’s and see the linen dress patterns in the window; there’s a blue-and-tan there, and an all-white—­they’re too lovely!”

“Why don’t you let me send you one, Sally?” Martie asked affectionately.  “I’m rich!  I drew my two hundred and eleven dollars’ bank account yesterday, and cashed a check from my editor, and Cousin Allie’s wedding check!” Sally flamed into immediate protest.

“Martie, I’ll be wild if you do—­you mustn’t!  I never would have spoken of it—­”

Martie laughed as she kissed her sister, and presently Sally wheeled Mary’s carriage away.  But Teddy and his mother went into Mason and White’s, nevertheless, and both the tan-and-blue and the all-white dress were taken out of the window and duly paid for and sent away.  Teddy shouted to his mother when they were in the street again that there was Uncle Joe in the car, and he could have taken the dresses to Aunt Sally.

No, his mother told him, that was to be a surprise!  But she crossed the street to talk in a low tone to Uncle Joe.  Uncle Joe said more than once, “I’m with you—­I think you’re right!” and finally kissed Teddy, and suddenly kissed his mother, before he drove away.

Teddy was bursting with the thought of the surprise.  But this afternoon was full of surprises.  They were strolling along, peacefully enough, when suddenly his mother took his small arm and guided him into the station where they had arrived in Monroe nearly two years before.

A big train came thundering to a stop now as then, and Teddy’s mother said to him quickly and urgently:  “Climb in, Love.  That’s my boy!  Get in, dear; mother’ll explain to you later!”

She took a ticket from her bag, and showed it to the coloured porter, and they went down the little passage past the dressing room, and came to the big velvet seats which he remembered perfectly.  His mother was breathing nervously, and she was quite pale as she discussed the question of Teddy’s berth with the man who had letters on his cap.

She would not let Teddy look out of the windows until the train started, but it started in perhaps two minutes, and then she took off his hat and her own, and smoothed back his hair, and laughed delightfully like a little girl.

“Where are we goin’?” asked Teddy, charmed and excited.

“We’re going to New York, Loveliness!  We’re going to make a new start!” she said.

CHAPTER VIII

From that hour Martie knew the joy of living.  She emerged from the hard school in which she had been stumbling and blundering so long; she was a person, an individuality, she was alive and she loved life.