Tom groaned. It was dreadful to think of having to wait longer, after having waited so long already; but it was something to see Eunice Long on the scene, for it was well known that she was more clever and capable than most in sickness and trouble of all kinds.
“How is she?” asked Eunice, putting Tom aside with one hand, and stepping across the threshold, followed by Bertha.
“She is alive, and that is all I can say about it,” answered Tom, following them into the kitchen, where Grace still lay on the couch just as he had lain her down with the help of Bertha in the dawning.
Eunice stooped over her, deftly touching her here and there, while the other two looked on, and then she said, with a look at Bertha: “I think we ought to get her to bed. Is it ready for her?”
“The bed is, but the children have not been dressed yet. I will get them out of the room,” said Bertha, turning towards the bedroom, where Noll and the twins, still in a state of undress, were having a great time at a pillow fight.
She swept up an armful of little garments, seized Noll in the other arm, and, calling to the twins to follow, took them out on to the veranda, and there set Molly and Dicky to the task of clothing the three small children, active assistance being rendered by Bill Humphries, who, having a large family of his own, had learned many things by experience, although he confessed that the buttons and tapes were to the last degree bewildering to a mere man.
Inside the house Eunice and Bertha, with some help from Tom, carried Grace and laid her on her bed, then, sending him away, Eunice removed the garments one by one and anxiously searched for possible injuries. But there was not one to be seen. Grace did not even seem to have been bruised by the terrible fall, although she lay so still and motionless.
“What is it? What are you afraid of?” asked Bertha sharply, seeing the gravity had become deeper on the face of Eunice.
“It is her brain or her spine which has been injured, I fear, perhaps both,” said Eunice softly, although she might have shouted and Grace would still not have heard or understood.
“Will she get better?” asked Bertha, her parched tongue rattling against the roof of her mouth.