"Oh, yes!" Rosemary's response was enthusiastic. "Do let's plan a garden, Hugh, and if it doesn't cost too much, we could have Peter Cooper fix up the lawn. It's rather thin in spots."
The gardening fever seized upon the Willis family and the girls sped home from school to dig and plant and rake and hoe. They recklessly promised Winnie a vegetable garden back of the garage and risked a late frost to jab onion and radish and lettuce seeds into the patch, Peter Cooper, the handy man, spaded up for them. Rosemary acquired a line of golden freckles across her nose and Sarah "got a shade darker every day," according to Winnie.
"I don't care!" the object of her solicitation retorted. "I won't wear a hat—they're hot and stuffy and make my head ache."
"But your mother won't know you," urged Aunt Trudy, who was sewing on the porch in the warm sunshine. "She'll take you for an Indian."
"Oh, I guess my mother'll know me," said Sarah, but all her determination could not keep out a note of doubt in her voice.
The next morning she was late for breakfast. Rosemary called her twice and Winnie went up to see what was the matter.
"She says she's all dressed and she's coming right away," she reported, but no Sarah appeared.
Doctor Hugh went to the foot of the stairs.
"Sarah!" he called in a tone that seldom failed to produce results.
"I'm coming," answered Sarah, and they heard her feet beginning the descent of the stairs.