They were not very helpful people, and there was no other house within sight. Prudence began to fear that she would be hung up there for the night. She wondered whether for a consideration the girl who had laughed so immoderately would walk to the nearest village and secure some sort of conveyance. She regretted that she had not commandeered the cart of the man whose dog was responsible for the mishap, but events had been too hurried to allow her time to realise the difficulties of getting home in her damaged condition. She appealed to the girl, who still stood surveying her with a wide grin of amusement, and who seemed by no means eager to undertake the mission. She looked out along the dusty road and up the steep hill, down which Prudence had sped to her undoing, and hesitated; then she picked up a hat which was lying on a chair and remarked that she would go up the road a bit and see if anyone were about.
Prudence sat on in the room, waiting in the company of the sister, with a blank feeling of hopelessness for the next event. This when it befell was so altogether unexpected that at the moment when she first caught sight of a motor, with the girl who had set forth on her reluctant search seated in the back, she almost discredited her senses. But the motor came to a stop in the roadway before the house, and the other girl, springing up and going to the window, remarked explanatorily over her shoulder:
“It’s Major Stotford in his car. That’s a rare bit of luck for you. I suppose Lizzie stopped him. She’s got a cheek. He’s lord of the manor over to Liscombe. It’s all his property about here.”
Lizzie burst in in great excitement.
“It’s all right,” she cried; “the Major’ll drive you. Only you must be quick; he hates to be kept waiting.”
She ran out again, and stood in the road staring admiringly at the rather heavy, handsome man who remained at the steering wheel, and only looked round when Prudence, walking with an unmistakable limp, emerged from the house, with the other girl behind her, and approached the car. With his first casual glance at her the look of indifference gave immediate place to an expression of very real interest. What he had expected he hardly knew, certainly not what he saw. He raised his cap, and with an alertness he had not yet displayed, left the wheel and opening the door of the car stepped into the road.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” said Prudence. “It’s most awfully kind of you to come to the assistance of a stranger. I fear it will trespass on your time. I live at Wortheton; that’s ten miles from here.”
“Wortheton!” he said, and smiled charmingly. “My time is not so valuable that so heavy a call upon it need worry you. I’ll sprint you home under the half-hour.”
He held the door for her and helped her up. Lizzie had occupied the back seat, but plainly he preferred to have Prudence beside him.
“Is that your cycle?” he asked. “You have had a spill.”