“Look out for the ladder,” Virgie cautioned, “it’s a bit rickety.”
“All right.”
But it was not all right, unfortunately, and as Hilary mounted the ladder it tipped. Down came Hilary, not very far, to be sure, but without a chance to save herself.
“Dear child!” exclaimed Aunt Hilary. “Are you badly hurt?”
Two or three of the girls rushed to help Hilary up, but she waved them away, and sat up slowly with a white face. “I’ve turned my ankle and fallen on it. Just a minute, girls.”
“We shall have to attend to it, dear,” said Mrs. Garland, and as Hilary protected the hurt foot, with one of the girls to help, she lifted Hilary to a chair which one of the other girls drew up, ready.
“Don’t mind, Aunt Hilary, if I groan a bit,—it hurts so!” Poor Hilary put her face in her hands a moment.
“Wait a minute,” said Cathalina. “I’ll bring a rocking chair from the nearest room and we can draw her to the suite,—lucky that it is on this floor.”
In a few minutes Hilary was being drawn in a rocking chair to the suite and could not help laughing at Isabel who dashed by carrying a large enameled pail which the girls had often used on picnic. By the time Hilary’s pretty Commencement slipper was off, Isabel was back with hot water. “I’m not sure that this is the latest thing they do for sprains, but Aunt Helen always puts the boys’ sprains in as hot water as they can stand.”
“Does she detach them from the boys?” inquired Hilary, wincing a little as she tried the temperature of the water.