arren's
arms, the tears running down her face, Sarah managed to put her chief
sorrow into words that reached her mother and Winnie half way across
the pasture and Richard just breathlessly rounding the orchard.

"I lost my horse hairs!" screamed Sarah.

CHAPTER VIII

STORM SIGNALS

Rosemary, seated on the lowest porch step, was outwardly "cool and calm
and collected," to borrow one of Winnie's favorite phrases. She was
dressed all in white and Doctor Hugh, coming from the shed where he had
put his car, noted appreciatively what a lovely dash of color the blue
wool she was knitting made in the picture. It just matched her eyes,
he thought.

"Hello, sweetheart!" he greeted her, and then, as she raised her face
to kiss him, "why, what's the matter?"

For the blue eyes were mutinous and stormy and it was easy to see that
Rosemary was unhappy.

"Oh, Hugh! Don't go in right away--I never get a chance to talk to
you," she said, moving over to give him room to sit on the step.
"Everyone will have a thousand things to tell you--it was that way last
Sunday. I suppose if we see you only once a week, or every other week,
it's natural, but I wish I could ever talk to you without Shirley or
Sarah asking you questions at the same time."

Doctor Hugh laughed as he took off his hat and dropped down beside his
sister.

"Seems to me you have a good deal of energy for such a warm day," he
commented, running his fingers through his thick dark hair. "Doesn't
that breeze feel good, though! Eastshore has been becalmed this week
and the dust from the plastering has settled on everything in the
house--I'm glad Mother can't see it. And where is Mother, Rosemary?"

"Lying down," answered Rosemary, beginning to purl. "She didn't expect
you for an hour. Sarah and Shirley went to town with Warren--he had to
go over and get a bolt or something, so Mother let them go. How far
has Mr. Greggs got with the building, Hugh?"

"Well, you know he isn't naturally swift," said the doctor cautiously,
"and he and his helper have more labor troubles than any union I ever
heard of--they differ continuously. But I will say that the lawn is
piled high with lumber and bricks and I never come home at night that I
don't have to chase a dozen boys away--kids who think I'm a grouch
because I won't have them breaking their necks at my front door. Jack
Welles says I ought to take patients wherever I find them and not be
too particular."

"