She stepped rather stiffly out of the car, for her joints still ached, and Barry, seeing her white face and the heavy shadows beneath her eyes, put a strong, friendly arm round her shoulders to steady her.
"You've had a good shaking up, my dear, anyway," he observed with concern in his voice. "Look, I'm going to help you into the hall and put you on the big divan straight away. Then we'll discuss what's to be done with you," he added, smiling down at her.
"You won't let them keep me in bed, Barry, will you?" urged Nan as he helped her up the steps and into the great hall, its ancient panelling of oak gleaming like polished ebony in the afternoon sunlight.
Barry pulled thoughtfully at his big fair moustache.
"If Kitty says 'bed,' you know it'll have to be bed," he answered, his eyes twinkling a little.
Nan subsided on to the wide, cushioned divan.
"Nonsense!" she exclaimed crossly, "You don't stay in bed because you've scratched your ankle."
"No. But you must remember you've had a bit of a shock."
By this time Kitty and Roger had joined them, overhearing the last part of the conversation.
"Of course you'll go to bed at once," asserted Kitty firmly. "Will you give her a hand upstairs, Barry?"