Mr. Randolph caught her, and she drooped limply against him.

He laid her down gently, and at once she opened her eyes.

Mrs. Albright was rubbing her hands.  “You will be all right in a minute,” she said cheerily.

“I am all right now,” Miss Sterling maintained.  “How stupid of me to faint!  I won’t have a sprained ankle—­so there!”

The rest laughed, though a little uncertainly.

Polly, like a true doctor’s daughter, was examining the injury.

“It doesn’t swell, so it can’t be sprained,” she decided positively.

Miss Sterling sat up and supplemented Polly’s inspection.  “Merely a strain.  I’ll be able to walk in a little while.”

“You’d better not tax it,” Mr. Randolph advised.  “I am glad my car is so near.  I drove in as far as the road was good.”

“Oh!” Miss Sterling’s voice was grateful.  “I was wondering how I could ever walk over to the trolley.”

“You would not have had to do that in any case, but my car is ready whenever you care to return.”

“The ride will be a lovely ending to the day,” Miss Sterling assured him, “and, if it won’t hinder you, suppose we don’t go any sooner on my account.”

Four o’clock found the picnickers leaving the wood, the injured one assisted on either side by Polly and Nelson Randolph.

The way was not long, but time after time it took all the pluck of which Juanita Sterling was mistress not to stop in the path and cry out that she could not go a step farther.

Her escorts were solicitous.

“Lean on me more, Miss Nita,” Polly would urge.  “I’m awfully strong.  Favor your foot all you can.”

“Hadn’t I better carry you the rest of the way?” asked Mr. Randolph when she could no longer hide her pain.

Her thanks were gracefully given, but she refused to proceed except upon her own feet.

“It is nothing,” she insisted.  “I shall be all right in a moment.”

Never did hospitable inn look more inviting to a weary traveler than did the waiting car to Juanita Sterling.

“You sit in front,” advised Polly, “it will be much easier for you.”

“Certainly!” the man exclaimed, throwing open the other door.

But before Polly could stay her she had stepped to the running-board—­and was on the back seat!

“You are naughty!” Polly pouted.

Miss Sterling laughed softly.

The man said nothing, only helped Mrs. Adlerfeld to a place beside him.

The cooling, sunlit air was delightful.  It was long since Miss Sterling had been in an automobile, and the car rode as easy as a rocking-chair.  She drew deep breaths, and half forgot that her ankle was still throbbing from its recent effort.

“Feel equal to a little longer ride?” suddenly inquired the driver, throwing the query toward Miss Sterling.

“Equal to anything!” was the happy reply.