id:

"Yes? This is Doctor Studdiford!"

She explained as concisely as she could, feeling that he listened
attentively.

"Keep the child flat, no pillow," he said, as Julia concluded. "Tell my
aunt I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

Julia, thrilled by she knew not what, knotted her flying hair loosely on
her neck and buttoned on a fresh uniform. Ten minutes later she admitted
Doctor Studdiford to the sickroom.

He had laid aside his hat and washed his hands. Now he sat down by the
bed and smiled at the dazed, moaning little Maude. Julia felt something
expand in her heart as she watched him, his intense, intelligent face,
his singularly winning smile, the loose lock of dark hair on his
forehead.

"Now, then, Maude," said he, his clever, supple fingers on her wrist,
"where does it hurt?"

Maude whimpered something made unintelligible by the fast-stiffening
cut in her lip.

"Her back's broken, Jim, no doubt about it," said Miss Toland grimly.

"I think her side hurts," Miss Pierce submitted eagerly.

"Well, we'll see--we'll see!" Doctor Studdiford said soothingly. "Now,
if you'll help me, Miss Page, we'll get off these clothes--ah!" For an
anguished moan from the sufferer coincided with his discovery that the
little left arm hung limp. Julia loosened the sleeve as the surgeon's
scissors clipped it away, and she held the child while the arm was set
and bandaged. Miss Pierce was faint, and Miss Toland admitted freely
that she hated to see a child suffer, and went away. "Only a clean
dislocation, Aunt Sanna!" said Jim, cheerfully, when he came out of the
sickroom. "She'll have to lie still for a while, but that's all. The cut
on her mouth doesn't amount to anything. She's all right, now--Miss Page
is telling her stories. She ought to have a glass of milk, or soup, or
something; then she'll go to sleep. I'll be in to-morrow. By the way,
you have a little treasure there in Miss Page!"

"Julia? Glad you have the sense to see it, Jim!"

"She--is--a--peach!" the doctor mused, packing his very smart little
instrument case. "Who is she?"

"A little girl I found. Yes, she's a nice child, Julia. She's been here
six years now."

"Six years! Great Scott! How old is she?"

"Twenty-two--twenty-three--something like that."

"It doesn't sound much of a life for a young girl, Aunt Sanna. Imagine
the Barbary-flower!" Doctor Studdiford shook his thermometer, looked at
it, and screwed it into its case.

"How _is_ Barbara?