“I’m sure I don’t want it,” ejaculated Mary, jumping into the car. “Do hurry and let’s be off.”
Once more they were on their way. After a long interval of silence, Mary continued:
“This is like an enchanted wood in a fairy tale. It is full of goblins and elves, wicked fairies and poisonous snakes and wild beasts.”
“I don’t mean to interrupt your poetic train of thought,” said Nancy, “but I’m certainly thankful at this moment that there is no smile on the face of that dead tiger.”
They all laughed but Billie. The woods were thinning now and the relief from the strain of the last two hours made them light-headed.
“My beloved friends,” exclaimed Billie finally, as the motor car slid into a real road, and the great wood bristled behind them, black and ominous, “oh my beloved friends, we are out of the wilderness at last. And it’s no thanks to me that we’ve all escaped alive. It was wicked, wicked of me,” she went on, choking to keep back her tears.
“What was wicked of you, Billie, dear?” asked Elinor, moved at the sight of her friend’s remorse.
“Not to have followed Edward’s advice and walked back the other way. It was wicked and stubborn of me. I can’t forgive myself.”
Not one of her friends had ever seen Billie so moved as she was now. Her gray eyes were filled with tears and her generous, finely shaped lips quivered painfully.
“Oh, Billie, dearest Billie,” they cried, standing up and leaning over the seat while she bent her head to hide her tears, “don’t blame yourself. It was everybody’s fault. We agreed with you that it was right, didn’t we?” they asked each other.