"I'd better go and get washed up," announced Sarah blandly, though to her hearers' knowledge this was the first time on record she had made such a suggestion voluntarily.
"Come here, Sarah," said Doctor Hugh quietly, "I want to look at that bruise on your forehead."
"That isn't anything," Sarah assured him, backing off.
"Come here and let me see it," the doctor repeated and, as Sarah reluctantly approached him, "how did you get it?"
"I was under the wagon," said Sarah, wincing slightly as Doctor Hugh felt of the bruise with firm, practised fingers, "and I heard Warren coming and I jumped up and hit my head."
She did not think it necessary to add that Warren had requested her to stay in the road and not crawl under the broken wagon.
"All right, the skin isn't broken," announced the doctor. "But it aches a little doesn't it, dear?"
"A little," nodded Sarah, winking to keep back the tears.
He put an arm around her, heedless of the dirt and grease.
"That won't last long," he promised, "and if you and Shirley will go in and get washed and dressed without dawdling, I'll take you for a little drive before dinner."