Jesse's face grew concerned and half puzzled.
"Ain't he all right again by this time?" he asked. "I thought he'd have been running about same as before, and a-riding on his new pony."
Miss Lilly shook her head rather sadly.
"Oh no," she said, "there's no chance of anything like that for a long time"—"if ever," she added to herself. "The kind of accident that happened to Master Ferdy," she went on, "is almost the worst of any to cure—worse than a broken leg, or a broken head even."
Jesse said nothing for a moment or two, but something in his manner showed the young lady that his silence did not come from indifference. He had something in his hand, a stick of some kind, and as Miss Lilly's eyes fell on it, she saw that he had been whittling it with a rough pocket-knife.
"What is that, Jesse?" she said. "Are you making something?"
The boy's face grew distinctly redder now.
