"We'll know eight orphans then, in a minute," declared Sarah, her statistical mind functioning even as she helped to replace the fence bars. "The Gays are six and you and Warren are two; so you did see an orphan before, Shirley."
"For mercy's sake, forget the orphan part of it," begged poor Richard. "Don't say 'orphan' once—I didn't bring you up here to look at the Gays. They're no side show."
Rosemary laughed, then sobered instantly as a turn in the lane brought them face to face with a tow-headed lad, carrying two pails of water. He was about the age of Jack Welles, she decided, but infinitely thinner and lacking Jack's solid build.
"'Lo, Dick!" he said cordially. "Want me?"
Richard introduced the three girls with more ease than Rosemary had expected. Alec Gay was undeniably shy, but he asked them to come to the house and meet his sister, Louisa. Richard took one pail and Alec the other, and they went on.
"Louisa!" shouted Alec as they came in sight of a weather-beaten house set in a fenced enclosure of rank grass where a cow grazed peacefully.
A girl appeared in the doorway, a tow-headed girl with blue eyes like her brother's, and thin shoulders, like his, too. She wore a faded blue dress and a black apron and looked clean and neat.
This was Louisa Gay and noting that she glanced uncertainly into the doorway, after Richard had introduced them, Rosemary tactfully suggested that they sit on the stoop.
"We can't stay long and it is too nice to go indoors," she said sincerely.
"The house doesn't look very nice this morning," apologized Louisa, "to tell the truth, everything is in a mess; but if we stay out here, the children will come hunting for me and they're a mess, too. There isn't much choice, either way."