elf a member of the family, as indeed she was,
and she frequently took part in the table conversation except when
there were strange guests present.

Rosemary gathered up the boxes and put them on the side table and
dinner proceeded pleasantly enough. Aunt Trudy was a social soul and
seldom at a loss for something to say. She sat in the absent
mother's place and beamed upon the little circle, Dr. Hugh across
from her, Rosemary at his right, Shirley next to her and on the
other side of the round table, Sarah the silent. Sarah was certainly
a child of few words and she was never troubled by any idea that
something might be expected from her in the way of a contribution to
the general talk. To-night she sat stolidly, her dark eyes roving
now and then to the candy boxes which were behind Rosemary.

"So you're going to practice right here in Eastshore, Hugh?" Miss
Wright was saying as Winnie brought in the salad, "your mother wrote
me, before she was ill, that you expected to take Doctor Jordan's
office; has he retired?"

"No, not retired exactly," answered Hugh, "but he is planning to
take a long and much-needed vacation. He left for Maine this
afternoon. We both thought it better for many reasons to make no
change in the office--I'll take his just as he left it. Of course
I'll have some kind of a place here, too, but not many patients will
call here."

Sarah created a diversion by pushing back her plate and slipping
down from her chair.

"Where are you going, dear?" her aunt asked in surprise. "Don't you
want any dessert?"

"No, it's cornstarch pudding," said Sarah calmly.

Miss Wright apparently accepted the explanation, but Doctor Hugh
spoke sharply.

"Sarah, come back here--dinner isn't over yet."

Sarah stopped and faced him defiantly.

"I don't want any pudding," she declared, scowling. "Winnie knows I
don't like it and she always makes it."

"Come back and sit down and wait until you are excused--" Doctor
Hugh's level gaze seemed to draw the rebellious Sarah back to her
chair. "If you don't care for the pudding you needn't eat it, but
don't criticise anything that is placed before you."

His staccato tones seemed to have a tonic effect on Sarah, for she
ate the pudding when it came, without further discussion. But the
moment her aunt rose from the table, she made a bee-line for the
candy boxes.

"It's mine, Aunt Trudy gave it to me," she insisted when her brother
interfered.

"Two apiece, of such