The two girls exchanged glances of amazement and Nancy was about to say: “Why, look at that woman!” when the woman, herself, put her finger to her lips and shook her head violently.
“I think she’s crazy, Nancy,” said Billie, in a low voice, under cover of the conversation of the others. “We had better not take any notice. It would just alarm Cousin Helen and spoil the day.”
Nancy agreed with her, and the two girls were about to suggest that they start on again, when the woman began making the most extraordinary motions of entreaty, imploring them with outstretched arms, beseeching them with every gesture to come to her. And still the two girls hung back. Then the woman raised the sleeve of her loose black silk wrap and showed her arm bound with a bloody handkerchief.
Nancy gasped at this. The sight of blood was always sickening to her. But, seeing Billie’s meaning glance in Miss Campbell’s direction, she pretended that she had choked on her tea.
The other three were deep in a conversation. Miss Campbell was describing a beautiful ball she had once been to where she had danced with a real prince, and they hardly noticed when Nancy and Billie strolled over to the clump of bushes.
The woman, who had been waiting for them, seized Billie’s arm and in a low, rapid voice said:
“I see that you are both unusually nice girls whom I can trust. I am in great trouble. You will help me, will you not? It is very simple, what I am going to ask you. You see, I have been in a wreck.”
“A motor wreck?” asked Billie.
“Yes, yes,” replied the woman, not impatiently but as if she were very much pressed for time. “The car rolled over the embankment. You will see it below there. It happened just in the curve of the road. There was no excuse except that we were going too fast and the wheels did—what is it you call it? Skidded? We saved ourselves, all three, by jumping. Fortunately the back wheels were caught in the sand and there was just time to climb out as the car was overturned. The others have left me. They will return at any moment now with another car. Hidden under the seat of the wrecked car is a small box. I must have it. I must indeed. I cannot get it myself. I have sprained my knee, and can stand only by supporting myself against this tree. Will you get that box for me and place me in your debt always, always? You cannot understand how important it is for me to have it.”
“Of course, we will,” Billie assured her, “and won’t you let us help you over to our party, or make you comfortable here with the cushions until your friends come back?”