the mill with the heavy wagon," he said, "and if you
want to come along, I'll take you. I'll harness up now and let the
team stand till after dinner."

Sarah scrambled to her feet with the evident intention of including
herself in the invitation.

"Run along, Rosemary," directed Doctor Hugh, "and take Shirley with
you. But I want to talk to you, Sarah."

Rosemary glanced back as she walked away with Warren.

"Poor Sarah!" she said. "I'm so sorry and I know Hugh is going to
scold. But oh, Warren, I think I did right."

"Sure," agreed Warren tersely. He had been more shaken by her recital
than he cared to admit.

"I couldn't have given Sarah away like that, if it hadn't been for
Shirley," said Rosemary, her eyes now on the infinitely dear little
figure dancing ahead. "Sarah asked me not to tell and I said I
wouldn't--and I never have before. Once she lost Aunt Trudy's ring and
we all got in an awful mess, but we wouldn't tell. Hugh said then it
was wrong and not being truly kind to Sarah.

"I didn't see it that way--then," confessed Rosemary. "But
to-day--well, to-day, Sarah frightened me so! And I thought that if I
kept still and said nothing, next time she might hurt herself or
Shirley--when she makes up her mind, she can persuade Shirley to do
anything. And Sarah goes a little bit further every time, unless she
is stopped."

"If you are fretting about whether you did the right thing or not,
forget it," Warren advised her seriously. "In the first place, your
brother would have had the truth from you in five minutes and in the
second place shielding Sarah when she is in a fair way to break her
neck unless someone interferes, isn't far from wicked, to my way of
thinking."

"But she trusts me," urged Rosemary. "Suppose I have lost her
confidence?"

"You haven't," said Warren with conviction. "More likely, you've
gained her respect."

Sarah was never to forget the talk with Doctor Hugh that morning. He
sat down beside her on the grass and gravely and kindly, without
raising his voice or threatening punishment, made her see what she had
done.

"You were angry at me and you wanted to do something to 'get even,'
Sarah," he began. "And to satisfy that miserable little desire to get
even, you would have let serious injury, perhaps worse, come to Shirley
and Rosemary--Shirley who would follow you anywhere and Rosemary who
loves you so much she would dare anything for you."

Ignoring her tears an