“I think we chose the place for our disaster very judiciously,” he said. “Certainly, no stranded motorists ever fared better. Are we putting you to very great inconvenience, Mrs. Hurst? My son has gone to telephone to the hotel to send out our things—we could go back in the car, when it comes, if——”
Mrs. Hurst interposed.
“But that isn’t to be thought of! We shall love to have you; Robin and I live so quietly that to have strangers is quite exciting and delightful, and if you can put up with our bush ways——”
Dr. Lane interrupted in his turn.
“Your bush ways, as you call them, seem ways of smoothing out difficulties for people in distress,” he said. “And frankly, I am not anxious to give Mrs. Lane a jolting drive. She has had a considerable shock.”
“You must all be feeling it, I should imagine,” said Mrs. Hurst. “Please don’t think of hurrying away: we shall be glad to have you for as long as you care to stay. I am sure that ankle needs rest, and the Baroin hotel is not a cheerful place to rest in.”
“Indeed, no!” said Mrs. Lane, with a faint shudder. “My window only opens for about three inches, and the smells—! And the bar is always full of noisy men. But perhaps there is a private hospital where I could go for a few days: I don’t want to spoil the holiday for my menfolk.”
“Oh, I believe there is—but I don’t think you would like it. You are not ill; a couch on our veranda would be better for you than any place in the township.” Mrs. Hurst smiled, as she gathered the tea-things together. “Let us see how you feel in the morning.”
“What a nice hostess!” breathed Mrs. Lane, as the door closed behind her. “Now, do leave me just as I am, dear, and go to find Barry; he may lose his way.”
“I don’t think he’ll do that,” Barry’s father said. “But I don’t want him to walk too far; he is not really strong yet. Sure you will be quite comfortable until I get back, Milly?”