"All--right," replied the latter with evident effort.
"Now just keep quiet, and don't attempt to move unaided," said the doctor,
"and we'll see how it is in the morning. I think, Mrs. White, you might
make him comfortable to-night on this floor. It will be safer."
Ned was very pale. Dorothy could not bear to see his white face with the
deep dark rings under his eyes. Tom did what he could, and then was ready
to leave.
He took Dorothy's arm and led her out into the hall.
"See here, little girl," he began, "you are not to blame yourself in any
way for this. If any one was at fault it was I. I saw how he--felt, and
should not have tantalized him."
"It was simply an accident," argued Dorothy feebly.
"Certainly," answered Tom; "but Ned was out of sorts. He seemed to have a
personal grudge against me."
"Oh, you must have imagined that," answered Dorothy. "Ned is sensitive,
but not--unreasonable."
Tom pressed her hand warmly in parting. The action brought warm color to
her cheeks. He was trying to cheer her, of course, but Ned would not have
liked it.
When the doctor had left, Mrs. White told the major that her son's hip was
hurt.
"And that does take so long to mend," she lamented. "The hip is such a
network of ligaments."
Acting on the doctor's advice, the injured young man was made comfortable
in the library for the night.
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