Chris, Diana and Noel were taking a walk together. It was the following Saturday, and Mrs. Inglefield, who encouraged independence in Chris, assented gladly when he told her that the baker had told him of a field which contained wild strawberries and that they would all like to go and get them. Chris had never seen a wild strawberry in his life, but he imagined them to be pretty much like those he had seen in the London shops. It was rather a long walk for Noel, and he soon began to lag behind and stop to look in the hedges for spoils. Chris felt impatient; it was a hot afternoon in June, and the country lane was dusty and breathless. No friendly trees shaded them from the glaring sun. Diana trudged along with a smiling face. She was generally wrapt in dreams when she was out of doors, but Noel's plaintive voice roused her.
"Take my hand," she said; "I'll help you along. It isn't much farther now. It's that high field over there by the side of the wood, isn't it, Chris?"
"Yes, that's it. We can sit down when we get there and eat."
"But we must bring some back for Mother."
"I'm raining!" announced Noel; "raining quite fast like I did in India!"
Diana laughed.
"You do say such things!" she said. "Take your handkerchief out and wipe your face. We're all hot."
The lane along which they were walking was very narrow and winding. It was a by-lane, and by the grassy ruts in it showed that it was not much used.
As they rounded a corner they suddenly came upon a motor turned nearly upside down in a hedge, and by the side of it a lady sat reclining against a bank. She did not see them till they were right up to her, for her eyes were shut, and she was groaning in an unhappy sort of way.
The children stood still, and then, doffing his cap, Chris stepped up to her.