"The inside pocket of my coat—left side," he said. She fumbled in the pocket, rather agitatedly, feeling very sorry that he was so suffering, but not sorry enough to make her forget that it was very awkward for her to be bending over him and searching in his inside pocket for a key. At last she found it, and ran and fetched the wine. He seemed a little better when he drank it.
"What is the matter with your arm?" she said, standing by him to take back the glass.
"A ladder fell on it," he said.
"And you sent for the doctor, did you?"
"The doctor, no! What time has there been to be sending off for doctors?" he returned, rather impatiently, turning himself in the chair, but with a groan. Missy ran out of the room, and in two minutes somebody was on the way to the village for the doctor. Eliza came back into the room with her.
"Can't you get on the sofa? and we'll make you easier," said Missy, standing by him.
But he shook his head. "I think I'll rest a little here," he said, "and then get to my room."
"I know; I've sent for the doctor, but I am afraid it will be some time before he comes. I thought I might be doing something for your hand that's strained; I am afraid to meddle with your arm. Do you think your shoulder's out of place, or anything like that?"
"No, I hardly think it is," he said. "It's more likely nothing but a bruise; but it hurts like—thunder!"
This last came from an attempt to get out of his chair. Missy shook up the pillows of the sofa.