“Well, the first thing to do is to pull the car out of the middle of the road,” returned Ann practically. “Then we’ll have to jack her up.”
A couple of labourers, passing at the moment, lent a hand in pulling the car to one side, and when this was accomplished Ann made a raid on the tool box.
“No, no,” the owner of the car protested quickly. “I can’t think of letting you do anything more. Even if you put things right,” she added, smiling, “I shouldn’t have the nerve to drive back. The car spun half round when the tyre burst, and nearly frightened me to death.”
“In any case, I’m afraid there’s nothing that I can do,” replied Ann, emerging from her investigations. “You’ve come out without a jack on board!”
The other, detecting the amused gleam in her eyes, laughed rather ruefully.
“I dare say I’ve come out without anything I ought to have!” she admitted. “My chauffeur was sent for hurriedly to the death-bed of his wife’s aunt or some one, and I just thought I’d come out for a spin this afternoon and explore the neighbourhood. I never prepared for accidents! I shall have to walk home, that’s all.”
“Have you far to go?”
“I live at the Priory. I’ve only recently arrived there—hence my thirst for exploration”—smiling.
“Then you must be Mrs. Hilyard.” Ann felt she had known it all the time.
“Yes”—pleasantly. “I’m Mrs. Hilyard. Are you one of my new neighbours?”