"It's Sarah, then," announced Winnie, putting down the glass of milk. "Something has got to be done about her, Hughie."
"Sarah?" inquired the doctor meditatively. "Why I thought she was conducting herself in an exemplary manner these last few weeks."
Winnie sniffed.
"I'm always the one that has to tell you," she complained. "I'm after asking Miss Trudy these three nights running to speak to you, but does she? She does not. She speaks to Sarah who minds her about as well as the wind does. And Rosemary won't be doing her duty, either; she says 'twould be telling tales and she's got Shirley around to the same way of thinking."
"A conspiracy, eh?" smiled Doctor Hugh.
"Well, Winnie, what should I know that I don't know about my small sister Sarah?"
Winnie was not to be hurried. She dearly loved a chat with her idol, the doctor, and she had the born story-teller's art of prolonging the climax.
"I'm not one to be going out of my way to find something to babble," she declared now. "There's plenty of things goes on I could be running to you with every day in the week, did I so mind; but I believe in letting folks have their own heads, as long as they don't go too far."
The doctor sampled the cake appreciatively.
"Sarah, I take it, has gone too far?" he suggested.