In a few words she told the salient facts of the story as she believed it,—the running away of the horses, the breaking of her leg, her father’s departure to fetch relief, her care at the stone hut.
“When did this accident happen to you?” the doctor asked.
“Four months ago.”
“And you two have lived alone at his cabin?”
“Yes.”
He glanced her over, and looked more puzzled than ever.
“You are looking hearty,” he said; “how is it that my friend is in this condition?”
“It must have been his care of me and his worry on my account.”
This appeared half to satisfy Dr. Mal-bone.
“Yes,” he said, “not being a doctor, and being extremely susceptible to the pressure of his duty toward you, he may have worn himself out.”