hings," said Rosemary. "About Louisa and Alec and
the circus. And the poor farm, too."

Warren was watching the fire closely, too.

"I drove past the poor farm the other day," he said slowly, "and the
lawns have all been ploughed up and seeded. There's no place now for
the folks to sit, except on the back porch. Not till the new grass has
a good start."

"I don't see why Sarah is always planning a farm for animals," Rosemary
declared a little passionately. "If I ever have a farm it is going to
be a home for people who haven't any other home. People like the Gays
and old men and women who have no one to take care of them."

"I'll have a poor farm, too," cried Sarah, wide awake in an instant.
"I never thought of that. I'll have a place for sick animals, too, but
I'll have a real poor farm for old horses and cows and pigs and
things--when they're too old to work, like old Belle."

Warren and Richard laughed and Doctor Hugh patted his small sister's
energetic dark head.

"I wish you and Rosemary could do all you plan," he said with a half
sigh. "There's room enough for that help and more."

Mrs. Hildreth, her busy hands for once idle, stared at the blazing
fire. She had told her husband earlier in the day that she hardly knew
how to behave at a picnic, it had been so long since she had allowed
herself such a frivolous pleasure.

She sat now, between Winnie and Mrs. Willis, tense and upright, unable
to relax, but resting nevertheless.

"It's been a nice summer," she said slowly. "I don't know when I've
had time go so fast. Young people in the house and outside do brighten
things up amazingly. And Warren and Rich have made me so little
trouble--I never knew two boys who needed less waiting on; yes, I've
had a nice summer. I can say that."

Warren's tanned face flushed a little and Richard stirred uneasily.
Both recalled moments of impatience, fortunately suppressed, and
remembered small kindnesses they might have easily performed. Poor
Mrs. Hildreth, so utterly unable to take life easily, was something of
a taskmaster like her husband. She prided herself on asking no more of
anyone than she was willing to do herself and the result was nerves
strung up to concert pitch and a volume of work turned out that was the
wonder of a neighborhood famed for its industry. Warren and Richard
felt guiltily that they might have made more positive contributions to
her "nice summer," but they were thankful for the