Rosemary acted on this suggestion, and Doctor Hugh, coming in late, was surprised to find a fourth girl at the table, a freckle-faced little girl with light bobbed hair and incredibly thin arms and hands. Nina Edmonds talked incessantly and, after a few ineffectual attempts to carry on a conversation with his aunt, the young doctor devoted himself to his dinner, keeping, however, an observant eye on the guest and on Rosemary who listened in evident fascination to the steady stream of words. He had a call to make, immediately after dinner and was surprised and distinctly annoyed when he returned at half-past ten to find Nina and Rosemary still talking animatedly, their arms around each other, in the window seat. Aunt Trudy was placidly reading, and the younger girls had gone to bed.
"Is it late?" Rosemary started up as her brother came in.
"Half-past ten," he answered briefly. "I'll take you home, Miss Edmonds, if you'll tell me where you live. I'm afraid your mother will be worried about you."
"Oh, my mother never worries—she knows I'll come home all right," said Nina. "I didn't wear a coat, it was so warm—will I be cold in the car?"
"The car is in the garage," said the doctor grimly, holding open the door for her. "We'll have to walk. Go to bed, Rosemary please," he flung over his shoulder. "Don't wait up for me."
There was a soft rush and a quick sigh, and Rosemary's arms went about his neck.
"Kiss me good night, Hugh," she whispered, "I'm sorry."
He held her close for a moment, then the screen door shut with a click, and they were gone.
"I hope Hugh didn't hurt Nina's feelings," worried Rosemary as she and Aunt Trudy went upstairs. "She doesn't have to go to bed at nine o'clock and she thinks it is queer that I do. I'm afraid she will call Hugh cross."
"Oh, I don't believe she will," said Aunt Trudy comfortably. "She seemed to me a nice little girl and you need plenty of young friends, darling."