"But I hope you realize that the summer is almost over," he told Rosemary who was riding with him down to the cross-roads where she expected to get out and walk back. "School opens next month and we must be safely moved back to Eastshore before that important day. You have not more than four weeks left to spend at Rainbow Hill, young lady."
"I'll go over and see Louisa," said Rosemary to herself, as she reached the back road that led to the Gay farm, after leaving her brother. "Mother won't expect me back till lunch time, for I told her I might stop in and see Miss Clinton. But I've seen Louisa only once since Hugh came."
The Gay farm looked more dilapidated than ever to Rosemary's eyes and the little attempt at a flower bed, in the center of the long, dried grass before the house, only made the general effect more hopeless.
Rosemary walked around to the back door and knocked. Louisa answered, carrying June in her arms.
"I thought maybe you'd gone back to Eastshore," said Louisa dully, "but Sarah and Shirley said no, your brother was visiting for his vacation."
"Yes, Hugh did come," answered Rosemary honestly, "and we went somewhere with him nearly every day, if only over the farm. I would have liked to bring him to see you and Alec, but I was afraid—I thought—"
"Mercy, I'm glad you didn't!" the idea seemed enough to frighten Louisa. "I wouldn't want a stranger coming here."
"Louisa, do you know Miss Clinton?" asked Rosemary suddenly. "She lives all by herself and she is so lonesome."
She had a hazy thought of suggesting that Louisa might be willing to go and see Miss Clinton—Louisa needed friends as badly as the little wheel-chair woman did—but the girl's answer was not encouraging.
"She lives in that little yellow house," said Louisa. "She may be lonely, but she has enough money to live on and no one need be pitied who can keep out of debt."