en called from her play to go
to the store. Aunt Trudy declared that the heat always affected her
and demanded an electric fan in her room and drove Winnie frantic
with repeated requests for ice-water. Rosemary alone remained
faithful to her duties, feeling the responsibility of an oldest
daughter. She answered the many calls on the telephone, kept the
messages straight and even wrote out the cards for the office file.
Doctor Hugh declared he did not know what he should do without her.
When Sarah left her work undone, it was Rosemary who finished it for
her, Rosemary who listened sympathetically to Aunt Trudy's
complaints about the weather, Rosemary who coaxed Shirley into
clean frocks and amiability each afternoon and tried to soothe
Winnie when Sarah's side-yard menagerie insisted on invading the
house.

"Rosemary, this is the second time Shirley has stayed away from
lunch," declared Aunt Trudy one noon. "Don't you think I should
speak to your brother about it?"

"Oh, no, Aunt Trudy, not right away," protested Rosemary, her
troubled eyes wandering to the little sister's vacant place. "I
don't believe she really means to run away. I'll get her to promise
not to go out of the yard and she will be all right. Shirley never
broke her promise yet."

"Sarah ought to play with her more, instead of fussing with those
silly rabbits," said Aunt Trudy severely.

"I do play with her," retorted Sarah irritably. "I play with her
lots. But she likes Rosemary. I can't help it if she gets mad at me
and goes to play with those Bailey children, can I? Rosemary is
always practising."

This was not quite fair on Sarah's part, for Rosemary though devoted
to her music and already an advanced pupil, seldom practised more
than an hour in the morning and another in the afternoon. The fact
was that six year old Shirley was developing the running-away habit
at an alarming rate.

She came home late that afternoon, tired and cross, and to
Rosemary's questions returned the briefest answers. Yes, she had
been playing with the Bailey children. No, not in their yard. No,
they had not gone with her when she went further on. She had gone by
herself. Yes, she had had some lunch, a pound of sweet crackers.

"Where did you get them?" asked Rosemary, who was brushing the sunny
hair.

"At the grocery," admitted Shirley.

"But you didn't have any money, dear, did you?" said Rosemary in
surprise.

"I charged 'em--Mr. Holmes said it would be all