“I am very glad to be on hand, and I already have had a wonderful visit, renewing my youth.”
“Oh, Lilian,—please let me see the telegram.”
“I’ll leave it with you, dear girl, and I’ll get back the first minute I can.” Lilian came over close to Hilary and put her arm around her neck. “Are you just a little easier?”
“Yes, Lilian, ever so much,—I’m sorry I was such a baby.”
Isabel came back, a little in advance of Miss Randolph and the one of the nurses who was not taking care of the measles patient.
“Thank you, Isabel,” said Hilary’s aunt. “Now you join the girls. Hilary will feel better to know that everything is going as usual, and it will be better for her to be alone with the nurse and the doctor, as soon as he comes.”
“Well, Hilary, child, what sort of a performance is this?” asked Miss Randolph with kindness, as she came into the suite and the nurse followed. “Mrs. Garland, this is Miss Knight, one of our nurses.”
Miss Knight had a little dose for Hilary to take, and then proceeded to examine the foot, very carefully. She was a good nurse, but very matter-of-fact, and said in reply to Hilary’s question, “No I don’t think there is anything broken.”
Hilary’s heart descended to its lowest location. “Possibly something broken. Now there was not the least hope of getting to New York in time to see Campbell before he sailed! Why did this have to happen just at this time?”
But Hilary had little opportunity to mourn at present. The janitor brought in a wheeled chair in which Hilary was conveyed to the elevator and thence to the hospital room. It was only a short time until the doctor came, a genial soul who was as gentle as a thorough examination would permit. “Nothing broken, Miss Lancaster, and I have seen worse sprains. I am afraid I can’t promise your being able to walk up for your diploma tomorrow, but you will feel a good deal better than you do now.”