She went heavily down the steps and disappeared across the lawn. Richard dropped with an exaggerated thud. "Another minute and my ankles would have given out!" he declared. "And she thinks it is work that tired her out." "Well, it is," said Rosemary. "She works from five in the morning till nearly ten at night." "But she could rest, if she only knew how," Richard protested. "Ah, now you have it, Rich," said Doctor Hugh. "There's a great deal in knowing how to rest." "There's no use in knowing how, when you can't rest if you want to," Jack complained bitterly. "That isn't a very clear sentence, Jack," said the doctor. "Explain a little, won't you?" "Oh, I'm tired," Jack declared ungraciously, "and there's nothing to explain, anyway." The desultory conversation that followed was almost wholly between Rosemary and Richard. Jack was curiously silent and Doctor Hugh, too, seemed content to listen. Finally he rose. "We must be getting back," he said. "First though, I'll take a look at your hand, Jack." "There's nothing the matter with it," countered Jack gruffly. "You act remarkably like Sarah," was Doctor Hugh's response to this. "Come in where I can have a light and don't be foolish." Jack followed him sulkily and Rosemary and Richard watched while the doctor unwound the cloth that bound the injured finger. The cut was an angry-looking one. "Needs attention," Doctor Hugh commented briefly. "Do you want to come up to the house with me, or shall I send Rosemary for the iodine bottle?" Jack elected to remain where he was, and Rosemary sped away to get bandages and antiseptics. Mrs. Hildreth's tea kettle was requisitioned for a supply of hot water and then the doctor washed and dressed the cut, Jack enduring the process gamely. "I won't knock off," he said defiantly as the last gauze fold was fastened in place. "I'm going to pick tomatoes, if I have to do it with my left hand." "You can use your hand, if you'll keep the bandages in place," the doctor assured him. "I'll dress it again for you in the morning--and don't let me have to send for you. When you have had breakfast, come and get your hand attended to, before you go into the field." "He'll feel better now," he said to Rosemary as they walked slowly down the road, extending their walk to enjoy the beauty of the summer evening. "His finger was throbbing and beginning to fester and must have given him great pain all day." "Here comes Warren," whispered Rosemary. Warren looked warm and tired. He stopped when he saw them and Rosemary would have walked on with a short "Hello!" had not her brother's hand upon her arm held her. "You've been down to the bungalow?" said Warren, after he had thanked them for the fish and congratulated the fisherman on his luck. "I'm sorry I missed you." "We went to see Jack," Rosemary informed him pointedly. "He's sick." "Jack sick?" Warren looked surprised and, though she would not have admitted it, concerned.