"Now, Dotty dear," said her father, "you must realise that you make matters a great deal worse by jumping around and moving your arm—"
"But I can't help it! I'm going to shake it till I shake it off!" and Dotty gave a violent shake of her shoulders and then screamed with the added pain she brought on herself.
She so disarranged the bandages that it was necessary to telephone for the doctor at once to readjust them.
"This won't do, young lady," said Dr. Milton as he looked at the havoc she had wrought in his careful work; "if you keep up these performances you'll have to be strapped to the bed so tightly that you can't move either arm. How would you like that?"
"I'd break loose somehow! you shan't strap me down!" Dotty's eyes blazed and her black curls bobbed as she shook her head angrily at the doctor.
But Dr. Milton paid little heed to her words. He redressed her arm and then said in his firm yet pleasant way: "I don't know you very well, Miss Dotty, but I perceive you have a strong will of your own. Now are you going to use it rightly to help yourself get well, or wrongly to make all the trouble possible for yourself and every one else?"
Dotty looked at him. She was not accustomed to this kind of talk, for her parents were inclined to be over indulgent with her tantrums and her temper.
"I do want to get well as soon as I can," she said, "and I will try to be good,—but you don't know how it hurts."
"Yes, I do know," and the good doctor smiled down at her; "I know it hurts like fury! like the very dickens and all! and I know it's just all you can do to bear it. But if you can get through to-night, I'll promise you it'll feel better to-morrow."
He went away and Dotty did try to be as good as she could, but the awful twinges of pain frequently made her forget her resolutions and to herself and the whole household it seemed as if the night would never end.