“And Dr. Fisher can't be found,” shouted Van, afraid that the whole would not be told. Polly gave a shiver that all her self-control could not help.
“But Joel's gone for Dr. Pennell,” screamed Percy; “Mrs. Fisher sent him.”
“He's very good,” said Jasper comfortingly. So this is the way they came into Ben's room.
“Oh, here's Grandpapa!” cooed Phronsie, trying to get down from Mamsie's lap.
“Oh, no, Phronsie,” said Mrs. Fisher, “you must sit still; it's better for your arm.”
“But Grandpapa looks sick,” said Phronsie.
“Bless me—oh, you poor lamb, you!” Old Mr. King went unsteadily across the room, and knelt down by her side.
“Grandpapa,” said Phronsie, stroking his white face, “see, it's all tied up high.”
“Sit still, Phronsie,” said Mrs. Fisher, keeping her fingers on the cut. Would the doctor ever come? Besides Joel, Thomas and several more messengers were despatched with orders for Dr. Pennell and to find Dr. Fisher, with the names of other doctors if these failed. God would send some one of them soon, she knew.
Phronsie obediently sat quite still, although she longed to show Grandpapa the white bandages drawn tightly around her arm. And she smoothed his hair, while he clasped his hands in her lap.