At once there was a grand excitement. The three children, basket and all, came tumbling down the bank to Mrs. Hartwell-Jones’s side, every one talking and suggesting aid at once. After the first moment of flurry Perk pocketed half a dozen doughnuts, to fortify him on the way, and bolted for home at top speed to fetch help. Jane and Christopher busied themselves in trying to make Mrs. Hartwell-Jones more comfortable. By leaning on Christopher’s stalwart little shoulder she managed to get upon one foot and move to a drier, sunnier spot where she sat upon Jane’s jacket and leaned against Christopher’s—which arrangement the twins insisted upon in spite of her protests.
“For you see you might get inflammation or something dreadful if you catch cold in your hurt foot,” Jane explained in her most motherly manner.
To beguile the time of waiting for Jo Perkins’s return they lunched out of Huldah’s generous basket and Mrs. Hartwell-Jones explained every detail of her accident, in answer to Christopher’s rapid questions, trying to identify for his satisfaction the exact root which had twisted her foot, and even what she had been thinking about not to have noticed the rough place. Jane listened with interest and sympathy but she said nothing. Mrs. Hartwell-Jones’s impulsive words: “I believe the fairies must have sent you” still rang in her ears. Had the fairies guided her to that last turn? She shuddered as she thought that if Jo Perkins had had his way they would have stopped short of that final bend and then perhaps Mrs. Hartwell-Jones would have had to sit on and on through the chilly evening and perhaps the night. Blessed fairies!
“If Letty had been with us to-day, she would have helped me watch for the fairies,” she broke out suddenly.
“Did Letty believe in fairies?”
“Yes, she told me so. She said she loved fairy stories. I wish——” Jane paused and her eyes grew wistful. “I wish Letty hadn’t had to go off in such a hurry the other day. She looked so sad. You know her mother died and she told me on the train platform that day that her brother had died too. I don’t believe she has anybody now. And she didn’t even have time to tell me where she was going.”
“Oh, she’ll turn up again; people always do,” declared Christopher cheerfully. “I don’t see why you need be so sorry for Letty. It must be jolly fun, belonging to a circus.”
“I wonder if she still has Punch and Judy. They were such cunning ponies, Mrs. Hartwell-Jones.”
“I see that a circus is to visit Hammersmith before very long,” replied Mrs. Hartwell-Jones. “Do you suppose it could possibly be the one to which your little friend belongs?”
“Oh, I wonder if it is! I hadn’t thought of that!” exclaimed Jane in great excitement. “Oh, I wish—I hope it will be!”