"With her little chair in her arms, my dear? And did she cry as if she was hurt?"
"Yes, sir; she said the prongs of the chair stuck into her side."
"It hurt me dreffully," said Prudy, who had until now forgotten all about it. "Susy spoke so quick, and said I was a little snail; and then I rolled over and over, and down I went."
The doctor almost smiled at these words, lisped out in such a plaintive voice, as if Prudy could not think of that fall even now, without pitying herself very much.
"Just let me see you stand up, little daughter," said he; for Prudy was lying on the sofa.
But it hurt her to bear her weight on her feet.
She said, "One foot, the 'lame-knee-foot,' came down so long, it more than touched the floor."
The doctor looked sober. The foot did drag indeed. The trouble was not in her knee, but in her hip, which had really been injured when she fell down stairs, and the "prongs" of the chair were forced against it.
It seemed to Mrs. Parlin strange that Prudy had never complained of any pain in her side; but the doctor said it was very common for people to suffer from hip-disease, and seem to have only a lame knee.
"Hip-disease!" When Mrs. Parlin heard these words, she grew so dizzy, that it was all she could do to keep from fainting. It came over her in a moment, the thought of what her little daughter would have to suffer—days and nights of pain, and perhaps a whole lifetime of lameness. She had often heard of hip-disease, and was aware that it is a very serious thing.