"That's it," agreed Warren eagerly. "That's what I mean. And I think it is a shame, for the Gays are nice kids—clean and honest and wholesome. You know I would never have taken the girls over there if there was the slightest possibility of the Gays setting them a bad example in any way. I have a cousin who is a teacher and she is always preaching that children pick up the bad traits they see in others quicker than they do the good ones."
"I'm not so sure of that," smiled Mrs. Willis. "But I am glad you are so thoughtful, Warren. They are very precious to me—my three daughters."
"If I had three sisters like them—" Warren's voice faltered.
He began again, hurriedly.
"What the Gays need," he said earnestly, "is human contacts—I think that's the phrase I want. They need to know normal, happy children their own age. It isn't the poverty that will hurt them—Rich and I have been as poor as church mice and are still; but we have battled our way through school and mixed with fellows and met people. In some ways Louisa and Alec are ten years beyond their time—they run the farm and train and punish those four youngsters and figure out expenses like a couple of old stagers. Give 'em one more year and they'll forget how to laugh and be hopelessly mixed on the true values."
"I think I know what you are trying to bring about," observed Mrs. Willis sagely. "You think they'll trust the girls and make friends with them and, later, an older person will be able to gain their confidence. An older head will be needed soon, if that farm is the only source of income. Well, Warren, I believe you are right and it will work out nicely in the end. I'm glad to have the girls see something of lives that are different from theirs and I know they will all three learn a great deal that will be helpful to them. I did plan to go over and see the Gays but now I'll wait, for a time at least."
"She's a wonder!" said Warren to himself, walking back to the bungalow a few minutes later. "She can see just what is in a fellow's mind and sort it out for him. Funny how Rich and I puzzled over what made those three girls so different from any girls we ever knew—they do just as many crazy things and Winnie says they have tempers and wills of their own, but they have something that sets them apart—Rich said it was ideals and I called it fine standards and, in a measure, I suppose we're both right. But just two words will explain everything—their mother!"
It must be confessed that Bony, the pig, claimed a large share of Sarah's time and attention. She let Rosemary and Shirley go over to see the Gays very often without her. There were the pig's meals to be served, his toilet to be made and his manners and training carefully considered.
"My conscience, Sarah Willis, you're not going to wash that pig, are you?" demanded Winnie the first morning Sarah made known her ideas on the question of cleanliness in connection with Bony.
"I certainly am," announced Sarah with appalling firmness. "Hugh says you can't be well, 'less you are clean. I don't suppose I can wash Bony in the bathtub?"