"Oh, Uncle Bob, I have hurt myself so! I fell down that tree. Do you think you could carry me home?"
Beside myself with terror and anxiety, I took her up as gently as I could, and made my way to the house. She had hurt the base of her spine as she fell on the roots of the tree; but she seemed to get better as soon as Sparrow, the nurse, had undressed her and put her to bed.
I sent for the doctor, however, and he thought, after seeing her, that I should do well to send for Dr. Knight.
Just then Leah and Barty came in, and we telegraphed for Dr. Knight, who came at once.
Next day Dr. Knight thought he had better have Sir —— ——, and there was a consultation.
Marty kept her bed for two or three days, and then seemed to have completely recovered but for a slight internal disturbance, brought on by the concussion, and which did not improve.
One day Dr. Knight told me he feared very much that this would end in a kind of ataxia of the lower limbs—it might be sooner or later; indeed, it was Sir —— ——'s opinion that it would be sure to do so in the end—that spinal paralysis would set in, and that the child would become a cripple for life, and for a life that would not be long.
I had to tell this to her father and mother.
Marty, however, recovered all her high spirits. It was as if nothing had happened or could happen, and during six months everything at Marsfield went on as usual but for the sickening fear that we three managed to conceal in our hearts, even from each other.