Dora had several times been on the point of speaking, but had not got the chance. She answered timidly at last: "It was an arrow."
A storm of worse complaints than Dora had ever heard broke forth now. Wringing her hands and running up and down the room, the aunt exclaimed, "An arrow, an arrow! You were shot! And in the arm! You'll be lame for life now! Your arm will stay stiff and you'll be a cripple forever! You won't be able to sew any more, no, you won't be able to do anything at all! You will have to live in poverty the rest of your life! We'll all suffer most dreadfully! How could such a misfortune break in upon us? How can we go on living now? What on earth shall we do if you become lame?"
"But, Aunt Ninette," Dora said, between her sobs, "perhaps it won't be so terrible. Don't you remember what papa used to say:"
"'Yet God keeps watch above us
And doeth all things well.'"
"Ah, yes, that is true, but if you are crippled, you are crippled," wailed the aunt anew. "It is enough to drive one to despair. But come here! No, go now. Better come to the water here! But where is Mrs. Kurd? We must send for the doctor at once."
Dora went to her wash basin, while the aunt ran to Mrs. Kurd and urged her to send for the physician without a moment's delay. One could not tell what danger there might be in such an injury.
The doctor came as soon as he was able, examined the wound, stopped the blood and made a tight bandage without saying a word, though Aunt Ninette had several times tried hard to bring him to some declaration. Taking his hat, he was soon at the door.
"But, doctor, won't you tell me?" said Aunt Ninette, accompanying him further, "Tell me, doctor, will her arm remain lame? Lame for life?"
"Let us hope not! I'll come again tomorrow," was the answer, after which the physician was gone.
"'Let us hope not,'" repeated Aunt Ninette, in a despairing voice. "With a doctor that means yes. Oh, what will become of us? What shall we do? We can never pull through now."