"Wasn't there an accident?" she said restlessly. "I wish you would tell me."
"Well, I will," the doctor answered, "if you will keep quiet and not vex yourself. There was a bit of an accident. The carriage was overturned. But no one was hurt but you, and you will soon be yourself again if you do as you're told."
"But how am I hurt?" questioned Nan, moving her head on the pillow with a dizzy feeling of weakness. "Ah!" with a sudden frown of pain. "It—it's my arm."
"Yes," the doctor said. "It's your arm. It went through the carriage window. I have had to strap it up pretty tightly. You will try to put up with it, and on no account must it be moved."
She looked at him with startled eyes.
"Is it very badly cut, then?"
"Yes, a fragment of glass pierced the main artery. But I have checked the bleeding—it was a providential thing that I was at hand to do it—and if you keep absolutely still, it won't burst out again. I am telling you this because it is necessary for you to know what a serious matter it is. Any exertion might bring it on again, and then I can't say what would happen. You have lost a good deal of blood as it is, and you can't afford to lose any more. But if you behave like a sensible girl, and lie quiet for a few days, you will soon be none the worse for the adventure."
"For a few days!" Nan's eyes widened. "Then—then I shan't be able to go with—with—" She faltered, and broke off.
He answered her with very kindly sympathy.
"Poor little woman! It's hard lines, but I am afraid there is no help for it. You will have to postpone your honeymoon for a little while."