By the dying kitchen fire lay Jimmie Peters, curled up, fast asleep. Meg privately thought if that were the way he had "staid with Granny," he might as well have gone with her to the village; but she kept her reflections to herself, and sat down to wait for the doctor. He was gone a long time, almost an hour Meg thought it must be, and when he appeared it was with a grave face. He walked straight up to her, and took her chin in his big hand.
"Are you a coward?" he asked, looking keenly into her face.
"Yes, I'm afraid so," she answered, meekly. "I was dreadfully frightened in the woods to-night."
"Humph!" said he. "And yet you came. Now look here; I've got to bleed Mrs. Peters, and I must have somebody to hold her arm. There's nobody here but you; but if you're likely to scream at the sight of a little blood, you'd better stay away."
"Oh, I won't scream," said Meg. "Why, of course, if there's no one else, I must;" and with a white face she followed the doctor up stairs. Certainly this was the worst part of all this eventful night. She did not know how hard it would be until she saw the red stream flowing from Granny Peters's arm, while every one of her groans seemed more dolorous than the last. Meg kept her eyes fixed upon one particular stain on the whitewashed wall, set her teeth hard, and gripped the wrist she was holding with a desperate force. Presently, when the doctor informed her by a nod that the work was over, and while he was binding up his lancet wound, she laid the arm down gently, and stole down stairs. She reached the kitchen, where Jimmie still slumbered peacefully; there she sat down with some deliberation upon the floor, and quietly fainted away.
There the doctor found her when he came to take her home, and even after he had deluged her with cold water, and rubbed her hands until they felt quite sore, it was a very bewildered Meg that he lifted into the chaise again.
The sun was bright and golden in the sky as they drove in at the gate. Seth Binks was whistling in the yard, and Hester bustling to and fro in the kitchen; and as they drew up at the open door, there came Tom, hopping on his bad leg, to meet them, with a look of mingled relief and sternness on his kind ugly face.
"Now just look here, Master Tom," said the doctor, before Tom could utter a word. "Don't you dare to scold her, or I'll know the reason. Tell you what, you've a sister you may be proud of." And then and there he told the whole story of Meg's adventures.
"Well done, old Meggums!" was all Tom remarked, as he held out his arms, and the doctor lowered her into them. "I always knew you were the heroine."
"Oh no, Tom," said Meg, with a blush. "Why, I fainted."