"Dear papa, please take me home, and don't scold poor Arthur," pleaded Elsie's sweet, gentle voice; "I am not so very badly hurt, and I am sure he is very sorry for me."
"Yes, darling," he said, "I will take you home and will try to do so without hurting you;" and nothing could exceed the tenderness with which he bore her to the carriage, supported her in his arms during the short ride, and on their arrival carried her up to her room and laid her down upon a sofa.
Jim had brought the doctor, and Mr. Dinsmore immediately requested him to make a careful examination of the child's injuries.
He did so, and reported a badly sprained ankle, and a slight bruise on the head; nothing more.
"Are you quite sure, doctor, that her spine has sustained no injury?" asked the father anxiously, adding, "there is scarcely anything I should so dread for her as that."
"None whatever," replied the physician confidently, and Mr. Dinsmore looked greatly relieved.
"My back does not hurt me at all, papa; I don't think I struck it," Elsie said, looking up lovingly into his face.
"How did you happen to fall, my dear?" asked the doctor.
"If you please, sir, I would rather not tell," she replied, while the color rushed over her face, and then instantly faded away again, leaving her deathly pale. She was suffering great pain, but bearing it bravely.
The doctor was dressing the injured ankle, and her father sat by the sofa holding her hand.