"It was quite a mountain of mercy out of a mole-hill of kindness," quaintly said dear Maggie, as she wiped from her eyes the tears of joy and gratitude.
Hearing that Lily must be kept quiet, the thoughtful Harry carried away his sisters, and all the other little visitors, as soon as they were assured that there was no cause for alarm, and saw them all safely to their separate homes.
Lily lay patient and gentle under the doctor's handling, as he felt the poor little bruised head, and tenderly cut away the hair from the wound, and bound it up; but every now and then she put up her hand, with a piteous, anxious expression, to the eye which was swelling and closing so fast.
"Does it pain you so, darling?" her mother would ask.
"Not so very much, mamma," she would answer, "but"—and here her words always came to an end.
But when the doctor was through, and the aching head laid carefully on a soft pillow, the trouble that was weighing on her mind broke forth.
"Doctor," she asked wistfully, "is my eye going out?"
"Going out? No, indeed," answered the doctor, cheerily. "I rather think it is going in, my Lily-bud. It is shutting up pretty tight now, it is true; but we'll take the swelling down in a day or two, and it will soon be as useful and bright as ever."
"By Monday, Doctor?" questioned Lily, anxiously.
"Ho, no, indeed, my little woman! You will not have much use of this peeper for a week or ten days to come. Even if you could see out of it, you must keep quite quiet, lie here on the bed or on the sofa, and be petted and nursed for a few days, or this little head may give you some trouble."