The nurse came nearer and began to fidget with the pillows.
“I’ll have to get you to leave now, young man,” she said. “The doctor will be here in a moment.”
“Take care of yourself, Teddy,” smiled the girl, waving her hand feebly as he tore himself away. “Touch wood as you go out.”
She set her teeth for the doctor’s visit, and said not a word until he had finished his examination; but her black eyes studied his face in an agony of suspense. A momentary smile, accompanied by a raising of his bushy, gray eyebrows, gave her the cue.
“Doctor, will I get well?” she asked almost under her breath.
“Why, of course,” replied the doctor. “As well as ever you were, I’m hoping.”
“But—but will I be ugly?”
“Little Miss Vanity!” grinned the doctor. “You ought to be thankful you have a breath left in your body. No, you won’t be ugly, if you mean disfigured. Of course there’ll be scars—”
“Do you think I’ll be able to ride again?” persisted the girl.
“I don’t know why you shouldn’t be able to ride; but I guess when you set eyes on the track you won’t want to. As for the rest, the cuts are pretty clean and not deep. I should say, on the whole, that you’ll have to look fairly close into the glass to see the one on your cheek, and your hair will cover the scalp-wound. The others aren’t anywhere to prevent you from wearing low-cut frocks. Now, are you satisfied, daughter of Eve?”