over the girl's unconscious form.

"Is she dead, sir? Miss Jane wants to know," said the old servant, in
awe-struck tones.

"No," answered Uncle John, gravely. "She isn't dead, I'm sure; but I
can't tell how badly she is hurt. One of her legs--the right one--is
broken, I know, for I felt it as I carried the child in my arms; but
we must wait until the doctor comes before I can tell more."

Misery was something of a nurse, it seemed, and with the assistance of
Louise, who proved most helpful in the emergency, she bathed the
wound in the girl's forehead and bandaged it as well as she was able.
Between them the women also removed Patricia's clothing and got her
into bed, where she lay white and still unconscious, but breathing so
softly that they knew she was yet alive.

The doctor was not long in arriving, for Kenneth forced him to leap
upon Nora's back and race away to Elmhurst, while the boy followed as
swiftly as he could on the doctor's sober cob.

Dr. Eliel was only a country practitioner, but his varied experiences
through many years had given him a practical knowledge of surgery,
and after a careful examination of Patricia's injuries he was able to
declare that she would make a fine recovery.

"Her leg is fractured, and she's badly bruised," he reported to Aunt
Jane, who sent for him as soon as he could leave the sick room. "But I
do not think she has suffered any internal injuries, and the wound on
her forehead is a mere nothing. So, with good care, I expect the young
lady to get along nicely."

"Do everything you can for her," said the woman, earnestly. "You shall
be well paid, Dr. Eliel."

Before Patricia recovered her senses the doctor had sewn up her
forehead and set the fractured limb, so that she suffered little pain
from the first.

Louise and Beth hovered over her constantly, ministering to every
possible want and filled with tenderest sympathy for their injured
cousin. The accident seemed to draw them out of their selfishness and
petty intrigues and discovered in them the true womanly qualities that
had lurked beneath the surface.

Patsy was not allowed to talk, but she smiled gratefully at her
cousins, and the three girls seemed suddenly drawn nearer together
than any of them would have thought possible a few hours before.

The boy paced constantly up and down outside Patricia's door, begging
everyone who left the room, for news of the girl's condition. All his
reserve and fear of women se