They had all three come up into the veranda by this time; Mr. and Mrs. Dinsmore had joined the little group, and questions and condolences and exclamations of sorrow and dismay were poured out in rapid succession.
“How did it happen? Where is he injured? What does the doctor say?”
“Oh, the dear, good captain!” cried Zoe, “it does seem too bad it should have happened to him!”
“I’m very fond of him, and as sorry as I can be for him and Vi too; it’ll most kill her not to be able to go to him and nurse him,” said Rosie.
But Evelyn only clasped Lulu in her arms and wept with her.
“I really do hope—I think the doctor does too”—said Max, when the excitement had calmed down a little, “that papa has received no permanent injury, though he’ll have to suffer a good deal for weeks with that wrenched ankle. I must go on to the village now,” he added, “and I am to call for my sisters as I come back.”
With that he bowed a polite adieu, ran down the steps, mounted his pony and rode away.
“Max is growing very manly,” remarked Zoe, gazing admiringly after him; “quite the gentleman; but he always was that ever since I have known him.”
Grandma Rose took the weeping Grace into her kind arms. “You are quite worn out with your grief, dearie,” she said, “you must lie down and rest till Max comes for you again,” and she led her into the house.
Evelyn had drawn Lulu to a seat, and with her arm round her waist, her hand clasping hers, was trying to comfort her.