ah and Shirley had torn
their dresses and there were great dust and oil stains on Rosemary's
white skirt.

Warren wheeled and looked back. The windmill door swung slowly in the
breeze.

"Rosemary!" he spoke so sharply that she jumped. "Rosemary, have you
been in the windmill? Have you been hurt?"

CHAPTER XXVI

SOMETHING TO REMEMBER

Warren stood a moment in indecision. Rosemary's pallor frightened him
and she was evidently concealing something. Sarah and Shirley glanced
at him hostilely as though, he thought resentfully, he was in some way
to blame.

He turned on his heel and ran over to the mill, shutting the door with
a resounding slam. In a trice he had snapped the padlock and had come
back to the three girls huddled under the tree.

And then a cheerful whistle sounded and down the lane came the one
person Rosemary least desired to see at that moment--Doctor Hugh.

"Got through early!" he called, vaulting the fence and striding toward
them. "Why, Rosemary! What's wrong?"

Rosemary made a desperate effort to recover her self-control. She
managed a shaky smile, but she did not dare try to stand.

"Perhaps you can find out," said Warren grimly. "I found her like this
a few minutes ago and Shirley and Sarah looking as though they'd seen a
ghost; and not a word will any of 'em say."

Very coolly, very quietly, very firmly, Doctor Hugh lifted Sarah aside
and took her place beside Rosemary on the crate. He rested the tips of
his fingers for a moment on the slender wrist nearest him. Then--

"What frightened you. Rosemary?" he asked evenly.

The touch of his skilled fingers seemed to slow down her hammering
pulse. Rosemary's troubled gaze swept the circle of faces surrounding
her, Sarah's and Shirley's expressive of their anxiety lest she be
"sick," Warren's baffled and worried, and came back to the steady,
understanding dark eyes behind the doctor's glasses. In that moment
Hugh became a tower of refuge to her and she suddenly knew what she
would do.

"I don't know what made me act like this," she apologized, a little
tinge of color creeping into her white face. "I'm sorry, because I am
afraid I have made you think it is worse than it is."

She stopped and looked at Sarah who stared at her in a puzzled way.

"You won't want me to tell, Sarah dear," went on Rosemary, still
calmly, "but this time I think I'd better; because--well, because if
there should be a next time and you should