“Lois made the bandage and put it on with a professional air”
“It’s my foot,” moaned the sufferer.
“I’ll go for a doctor at once,” said Lois, “but first I must put on a cold compress. It’s evidently a bad sprain. There seem to be no bones broken,” she concluded, finishing her examination.
Stripping up a cover from a pillow in an easy-chair, and finding her way to the running water in the kitchen, Lois made the bandage and put it on with a professional air.
Few words had passed between them, but as she left the room, “Dr. Brown,” said the sick woman.
“Yes,” responded Lois, “I was going for him.”
It was not far to the physician’s house, and when he had examined the foot he pronounced it, as Lois had, merely a bad sprain.
“My maid won’t be back until eleven o’clock,” said the sick woman. “I let her go to Woburn.”
“I can get a nurse,” responded the doctor. “You mustn’t be left alone.”
“I won’t have a nurse about me. You’ve often heard me say that,” cried Miss Ambrose petulantly.