part
of the contents and put it on Nora's forehead, and then gave her a
little to drink.

The cold refreshing water revived the poor girl; but when she attempted
to sit up, she fell back groaning and very faint once more.

"You _must_ let me fetch mother," said Kitty. "I won't be a minute. I'll
go as if I were a bird. I'll be back in no time, really."

"No; I can't be left alone," said Nora. "It--it's awful. The pain in my
back gets worse and worse. Kitty, don't leave me. Kitty, I'm frightened.
I'm sorry I was so cross to you."

"And I'm sorry I aggravated you," said Kitty; "but, oh, dear! what's the
use of being sorry? That won't mend your poor back. I wish you'd let me
get mother."

"No, no; you mustn't leave me."

Nora tried to stretch out one of her hands, but the pain of the least
movement was extreme, and she was forced to lie absolutely still, while
Kitty wetted her lips at intervals with a few drops of the precious
water left in the bottle.

Nora was in too great pain to care anything about the loneliness of
their position. She was in too great suffering even to be keenly sorry
for her own wrongdoing. The one only desire she had was to keep Kitty by
her side. But poor Kitty's little heart was full of absolute terror. She
had never seen anyone look so ill as Nora. Her face was white; her lips
were blue; she was evidently in severe pain; but, with the pain, there
was a strange faintness, which Kitty had never encountered before in the
whole course of her ten sturdy years.

Many and many a fall had both Kitty and Boris had in the wild
expeditions and daring feats which they performed in each other's
company. Kitty knew of the fall which stings; of the fall which shakes
you all over, which raises a great bump and causes great soreness of the
injured part; she knew of the fall which scratches and even renders you
giddy; but she had never before seen the effects of such a serious fall
as poor Nora's.

Friar's Wood was a very lonely place, and when, in utter exhaustion and
pain, Nora closed her eyes, poor Kitty felt almost as if she were
sitting alone in this great solitude with a person who was dead.

Oh, suppose pretty Nora was dead. Pretty Nora, who had been so mocking
and full of life only ten minutes ago. If this were the case, to her
dying day Kitty would feel that she had killed her by tempting her on to
a rotten bough. It was terrible, terrible to be here alone with Nora,
who might be going to die.