came up
to her baby, and took her in her arms; and then Phronsie didn't care
whether the ache was there or not.

"Joe couldn't help it," said Ben brokenly.

"I believe that," Mother Fisher said firmly. "Oh Ben, the doctor is
away."

Ben started. "I'll go down to the office; perhaps he's there."

"No; there's no chance. I've sent for Dr. Pennell. Your father likes
him. Now Phronsie"--Mrs. Fisher set her white lips together
tightly--"you and I and Ben will see to this arm of yours. Ben, get one
of your big handkerchiefs."

"It doesn't ache so _very_ much, Mamsie," said Phronsie, "only I would
like to lay it down."

"And that is just what we can't do, Phronsie," said Mother Fisher
decidedly. "All right," to Ben, "now tear it into strips."

Old Mr. King was not in the library when Joel had rushed down with his
dreadful news, but was in Jasper's den, consulting with him and Polly
about the program for the entertainment, as Polly and Jasper, much to
the old gentleman's delight, never took a step without going to him for
advice. The consequence was that these three did not hear of the
accident till a little later, when the two Whitney boys dashed in with
pale faces, "Phronsie's hurt," was their announcement, which wouldn't
have been given so abruptly had not each one been so anxious to get
ahead of the other.

Old Mr. King, not comprehending, had turned sharply in his chair to
stare at them.

"Hush, boys," warned Polly, hoarsely pointing to him; "is Mamsie with
her?" She didn't dare to speak Phronsie's name.

"Yes," said Van, eager to communicate all the news, and hoping Percy
would not cut in. But Percy, after Polly's warning, had stood quite
still, afraid to open his mouth.

Jasper was hunting in one of his drawers for an old book his father had
wished to see. So of course he hadn't heard a word.

"Here it is, father," he cried, rushing back and whirling the
leaves--"why, what?" for he saw Polly's face.

"Oh Jasper--don't," said Polly brokenly.

"Why do you boys rush in, in this manner?" demanded old Mr. King
testily. "And, Polly, child, what is the matter?"

"Grandpapa," cried Polly, rushing over to him to put her arms around his
neck, "Phronsie is hurt someway. I don't believe it is much," she
gasped, while Jasper ran to his other side.

"Phronsie hurt!" cried old Mr. King in sharp distress. "Where is she?"

Then Percy, seeing it was considered time for communication of news,
struck in boldly; and be