“Yes, I really think I am all right, but what a fright I must look!”
“Thank God!” said Harry fervently; “I guess you're improving,” at which they all laughed.
“Now I think we must get home,” said Madame De Lacy. “Do you think you can walk, Maimie?”
“Oh, yes,” cried Maimie, and taking Ranald's hand, she tried to stand up, but immediately sank back with a groan.
“Oh, it is my foot,” she said, “I am afraid it is hurt.”
“Let me see!” cried Harry. “I don't think it is broken,” he said, after feeling it carefully, “but I have no doubt it is a very bad sprain. You can't walk for certain.”
“Then we shall have to carry her,” said Madame De Lacy, and she turned to her son.
“I fear I can offer no assistance,” said the lieutenant, pointing to his arm which was hanging limp at his side.
“Why, Albert, are you hurt? What is the matter? You are hurt!” cried his mother, anxiously.
“Not much, but I fear my arm is useless. You might feel it,” he said to Ranald.