"First time he come here, he looked all about the place when he was leavin', an' he says to Pap, 'Plenty o' good room an' good air you got here, an' I guess there's plenty o' good food, too, ain't there?' Pap, he says, 'Well, we manage to make out, when the ol' lady feels like cookin'!' An' the doctor laughs an' says to me, 'Ain't got quite as much to do as ye had when that son an' daughter o' yours were home here, have ye? Don't ye miss 'em?' At that the tears jest come to my eyes, like they always do whenever I think o' my own child'en bein' two or three miles away from me on farms o' their own; an' the doctor he smiles an' says, 'Well, I'm goin' to supply your want,' he says.
"Pap an' me never thought 'ny more about it tell a week or so later when we see him drive up behind that old white horse o' his with the puniest little boy alongside o' him ever I set my two eyes on. 'Here's something to keep you from bein' lonesome, Mis' Cary,' he says; an' ever since then, it bein' goin' on five year, I've had one or another o' them pore little—land! There he comes now, without a sign of a hat on his red head! Ef he ain't that forgetful!"
Flood's big car had whirled rapidly into sight along the woodland road, and before it stopped the doctor was out and into the house. When Mother Cary hobbled in, Rosamund remaining to say a word or two to Flood, the doctor was already bending over the injured child.
Cecilia was waving a frantic hand from the car, and Rosamund and Flood walked down the little path to the red gate.
"Where is your hat?" was the first thing Mrs. Maxwell asked Rosamund. "Do get in! We've miles and miles to go, and we've wasted hours! I'm sure I don't see why they couldn't have sent for the doctor in the ordinary way; why, the road back there was something terrible!"
Rosamund was conscious of an absurd longing to slap or pinch Cecilia; she was really too vapid for polite endurance.
"We can't possibly leave until we know how badly hurt the child is," she said, and deliberately turned and walked back into the cottage.
After a moment or two Flood followed her, leaving Cecilia to pour out her indignation upon Pendleton.
The doctor was just coming out of the little bedroom, and nodded to them both in a general way. Rosamund looked at him curiously. She noted with some amusement that his hair was, as Mother Cary had somewhat more than suggested, frankly red; not even the best-intentioned politeness could have called it sandy. He was of average height, with keen eyes which looked black, although she afterwards knew them to be gray; his breadth of shoulder made him seem less tall than he was, and his frame was rather lightly covered, although his very evident restless energy seemed more responsible for it than any evidence of ill-health.
"Must have jabbed his ribs," he said, looking at Flood with a half smile, and seemingly ignoring the presence of this girl from his old familiar world. "Cracked a couple of them, but they're soon mended in a kiddie. Only thing now is this slight concussion; needs careful nursing for a few days."