"Thank you no," she answered him smiling. "Winnie and I have a busy day ahead of us. You know the doctor and Jack Welles are coming up next week to stay two weeks and Winnie and I want to have as much done ahead as we can. Have a good time and bring me home some wild flowers if you pass any growing along the road." It was a warm morning, but no one minds that in July. Besides, as Sarah pointed out, there was now and then a breeze. Sarah and Shirley were seated in the middle of the single long seat with Richard at one end and Rosemary the other. As usual Sarah and Shirley both wanted to drive and, also as usual, Richard settled the argument diplomatically by allowing each to hold the reins in turn, stipulating fixed distances for each, using the trees which could be seen ahead as boundary marks. Rosemary was less interested in the driving than in their destination. She plied Richard with questions about the poor farm. Who lived there? How many people? How poor did one have to be before he was compelled to live on the poor farm? Did one, once sent there, ever save enough money to go somewhere else? Were there any children and what did they do? "Good grief!" ejaculated the harassed Richard, at last rebelling. "I never lived on a poor farm, Rosemary. I don't know a great deal more about it than you do." "Is it a nice place?" persisted Rosemary. "Depends on what you call nice," answered Richard. "It is a large farm and the house looks comfortable. I'll tell you one thing--if I had to be a county charge, I'd rather be sent to a country poor farm than to a city almshouse; in the country you at least have something green to look at." "Would you like to live at this poor farm?" said Rosemary. Louisa and Alec, Kitty, Ken, Jim and June--they were in her mind. She would, perhaps, have some comforting news to take them about the poor farm. She was totally unprepared for the violence of Richard's reply. "Like to live at the poor farm?" thundered he. "Not if it was the most magnificent place on earth! Do you think for one moment that I'd have charity handed out to me? I'd rather wash dishes for a living--what do you take me for, anyway?" Three pairs of astonished eyes stared at him. Then Rosemary laughed and, after a moment, Richard laughed with her. "Guess I got too eloquent," he admitted a little shamefacedly. "But honestly, Rosemary, I pity those poor souls who have to live at the poor farm, more than I pity any other people of whom I've ever heard. There is nothing worse, to my mind, than to be deprived of your independence and ability to work." "How do you come to live in the poor house?" inquired Rosemary. "Sit still, Sarah; no, it isn't your turn to drive yet."