nd I am sure you are not at all well. Your
arm--is it very much hurt?"

"It is nothing you need think about, my dear. I am much better than I
could have imagined possible."

"And you have been nursing me all the time! Papa, you must let me take
care of you now. Do pray go to bed at once, and get up late. Nurse will
take good care of me. Good-night, dear papa."

When Dr. May had left her, and tried to tell Richard how it had been,
the tears cut him short, and had their free course; but there was much
of thankfulness, for it might be looked on as the restoration of his
daughter; the worst was over, and the next day he was able to think of
other things, had more attention to spare for the rest, and when the
surgeon came, took some professional interest in the condition of his
own arm, inquired after his patients, and even talked of visiting them.

In the meantime, Margaret sent for her eldest brother, begging him to
tell her the whole, and it was heard as calmly and firmly as it was
told. Her bodily state lulled her mind; and besides it was not new; she
had observed much while her faculties were still too much benumbed for
her to understand all, or to express her feelings. Her thoughts seemed
chiefly occupied with her father. She made Richard explain to her
the injury he had suffered, and begged to know whether his constant
attendance on her could do him harm. She was much rejoiced when her
brother assured her that nothing could be better for him, and she
began to say, with a smile, that very likely her being hurt had been
fortunate. She asked who had taken care of him before Richard's arrival,
and was pleased to hear that it was Mr. Ernescliffe. A visit from the
little Gertrude Margaret was happily accomplished, and, on the whole,
the day was most satisfactory--she herself declaring that she could not
see that there was anything the matter with her, except that she felt
lazy, and did not seem able to move.

Thus the next Sunday morning dawned with more cheerfulness. Dr. May came
downstairs for the first time, in order to go to church with his whole
flock, except the two Margarets. He looked very wan and shattered, but
they clustered gladly round him, when he once more stood among them,
little Blanche securing his hand, and nodding triumphantly to Mr.
Ernescliffe, as much as to say, "Now I have him, I don't want you."

Norman alone was missing; but he was in his place at church among the
boys. Again, in returning, he