All the sky was scarlet and rose, and all the fields tinged with the same hue, as the small procession started to carry the sufferer with as little jolting as possible. The sun caught the windows of Poole and made them flare like torches.
Among the crushed grass where Allonby had lain was a dark wet stain. How sad the easel looked, with its picture just begun! The palette had fallen face downwards, the brushes were scattered hither and thither.
Lady Mabel began to collect them, and to pack them into the open color-box.
"Come, Miss Elaine, dear, we must run home. Your aunts will be sending out to see after us," said Jane, nervously re-tying her bonnet strings.
"I cannot walk a step," said the girl, who was seated on the grass, as white as marble. "You must go and tell them so—go and leave me."
"Miss Elaine, my dear!" cried Jane, totally at a loss. Elaine was usually perfectly obedient.
"I will drive Miss Brabourne home," said Lady Mabel, coming forward. "She is quite over-wrought. I should like to see her aunts, for I am nearly sure my husband knew Colonel Brabourne. Claud, what are you going to do?"
Her brother jerked his glass suddenly out of his eye and turned towards them; he had been apparently contemplating the distance with an abstracted air.
"Is there an inn in your village?" he asked of Jane.
"Yes, sir."