"The girl was playing with Gretchen just before we came home--she fell with her arm under her; I thought she had only bruised it; but it has grown worse and worse, she cannot move it, and cries at the slightest touch; I think she has broken it here above the wrist."
Gotthold had bent over the child, who gazed at him in surprise, but without the least alarm. He thought he was looking into Cecilia's eyes.
"Are you the new doctor?" asked the little girl.
"No, Gretchen, I am not a doctor, but if you love your mamma you will let me take hold of your arm."
"It hurts so," said Gretchen.
"I won't be long."
Gotthold took the little arm and moved it at the shoulder and elbow--the child made no resistance; then he passed his hand carefully down the lower arm to the joint and bent the wrist a little. The child uttered a low cry. Gotthold laid the arm gently back on the coverlet and stood erect.
"I think I can assure you that the arm is not broken; it is nothing more than a severe sprain. I should like to put on a bandage, which will relieve Gretchen's pain, because it will prevent her from moving the joint. That will be sufficient until the doctor comes. May I?"
He had spoken in a low tone, but the child heard.
"Let him do it, mamma," she said; "I like the new doctor a great deal better than the old one."