"Please leave the table, Rosemary," he said distinctly. "Go into the office and wait for me."
Rosemary rushed from the table like a whirlwind and the house shook as she banged the office door.
"I don't care!" she raged, in the depths of the comfortable shabby arm-chair that had been her father's. "I don't care! Aunt Trudy always cries and it isn't fair. I suppose Hugh will be furious, but let him. I'm so tired and so hot and so miserable—" and Rosemary gave herself up to a passion of angry tears.
She had been crying in the dark and when the door opened and someone switched on the light she knew it was Doctor Hugh. She slipped down from the chair and walked around back of the desk. He took the swivel chair and glanced at her half-averted face gravely.
"Rosemary," he said gently, "how would you like to ride over to Bennington with me to-morrow? They're opening the new hospital and I half promised to go. We'll be gone all the morning and it will make a little change for you."
Bennington was the county seat, twenty miles away. It should be delightful not to have anything to do the next morning but put on a clean frock and go with Hugh. He might even let her drive the car a few minutes at a time on a straight stretch of road—Rosemary found her tongue.
"Oh, Hugh, I'd love it!" she said enthusiastically.
"All right, so should I," he smiled. "I think you need a bit of pleasure. Things going rather hard for you, dear?"
Rosemary nodded, a lump in her throat surprising her. She had expected Hugh to be angry and to scold. Instead he was very gentle.
"I'm sorry," he said, "Very sorry. You miss Mother, I know; we all do. But I think you are learning a good deal this summer without her. I've been watching you, and you are more self-reliant and capable every day. Several people have spoken to me about the way you answer the 'phone and the intelligent answers you give them. I don't know what I should do without you."