"Killed? No, no, miss; don't be frightened. It's only a bad accident," says the cabman, reassuringly, as he catches sight of Betty's white face.
"A bad accident! Father? Oh, what is it?" gasps Betty.
"Smashed his knee-cap, miss."
"Oh, is that all?" cries Betty.
"All! Why, miss, that is the worst kind of accident. Like as not, he'll never put foot to ground again; he'd better by far have broken both his legs. Is there anyone in the house to help me get him in?"
For a minute Betty's head seems to whirl round, and she cannot think. But with a great effort she steadies herself.
"Bob, Bob!" she calls.
Bob has come up, and is standing staring into the darkness beside her, Lucy's frightened face just behind him.
"Bob, run in next door, and ask Mr. Baker to come as quickly as ever he can; we must have help. Father can't move. Lucy, go and tell mother."
Bob darts off, and Betty goes down to the cab door.