step on me--and all the cows are in the barnyard
or the pasture at six o'clock and never get out!--or, she said, someone
might come and carry me off! And where would I be, while they were
carrying me?" demanded Rosemary with intense scorn. "I'd like to see
anyone carry me off!"

"I hope this 'argument' didn't degenerate into a clash," said the
doctor seriously. "You know how it tires Mother to have to hear these
quarrels, Rosemary, and to be constantly called upon to act as
arbitrator."

"I banged the door," confessed Rosemary. "I can't help it, Hugh, I
always lose my temper when I argue. And Winnie kept saying the same
thing a hundred times--I don't see why I shouldn't sleep outdoors, do
you?"

"If mother has said 'no,' there's one hard and fast reason," pronounced
her brother. "But I believe in the value of experience as a teacher,
especially for strong-willed little girls who are slow to learn that
their own way isn't the best in the world. Good gracious, that isn't
Sarah, is it?"

He broke off abruptly as an energetic figure advanced toward him,
waving two small hands black with grease, in welcome. It was Sarah, a
Sarah whose socks were down to her ankles and whose dress was torn and
spotted with the same black grease that liberally anointed her face as
well as her hands. Her dark, straight hair straggled into her eyes and
there was a large bump on her forehead that evidently gave her little
concern.

Behind her trotted Shirley, a little less disheveled, a little less
dirty and quite as radiantly content.

"You look nice," said Rosemary severely. "I should have thought Warren
would have been ashamed to ride home with you--where is he? I didn't
see the wagon drive past."

"Mr. Hildreth made him turn into the field, without going to the barn,"
explained Sarah, standing at a safe distance from Doctor Hugh who
would, she was sure, see the bump even under a layer of dirt. "We had
lots of fun, Rosemary; the wheel came off and I helped Warren put it on
again."

"And I had a chocolate ice cream cone," said Shirley, standing on
tip-toe to kiss her brother and leaving small finger marks on his
collar as visible marks of her affection.

"I'd better go and get washed up," announced Sarah blandly, though to
her hearers' knowledge this was the first time on record she had made
such a suggestion voluntarily.

"Come here, Sarah," said Doctor Hugh quietly, "I want to look at that
bruise on your forehead."