IX.
THE WHITE ROBE.
“What was that noise in the street?” exclaimed Mrs. Claremont, laying down the pen suddenly. Ella sprang to the window.
“O mother, something must have happened! some accident! there is a crowd collecting round a poor little girl!”
“We may be of some use!” cried Mrs. Claremont, and she and her daughter were at the street door in a few seconds.
“What is the matter? is any one hurt?” inquired the lady of a milk-woman who was standing looking on.
“A child knocked down by a horse, I believe, ma’am. They should take the poor thing to the hospital.”
Mrs. Claremont waited to hear no more; the crowd made way for her, and she was soon at the side of a young girl who was crying violently, and the state of whose crushed bonnet and soiled dress showed that she had been down on the road.
“I don’t think there’s any bones broken, only she’s frightened,” observed a baker among the spectators; “I saw the horse knock her down as she was crossing the road.”
“Come this way, my poor child, out of the crowd,” said Mrs. Claremont, leading the little girl towards the house; “we will soon see if the injury is severe.”