They were loath to leave, but time was passing, so, very reluctantly, they walked up the fields again to rejoin the car.

They had stowed their daffodils in the lunch basket, and Winona was peeping over the hedge to take a last look at the river, when an exclamation behind her made her turn round.

Miss Beach was leaning heavily against the car, her face was ashen gray, her lips were white and drawn.

She looked ready to faint.

Winona flew to her in a panic.
"What is it, Aunt Harriet?
Are you ill?
Get into the car and sit down.
Let me help you!" Miss Beach sank on to the seat, and sat with half-closed eyes, moaning feebly.