Tom. There appeared to be no
bones broken, and the cut was of slight consequence; but the
doctor had looked very grave, had shaken his head slowly, and had
said that time alone could tell. After he had gone, Miss Polly
had shown a face even whiter and more drawn looking than before.
The patient had not fully recovered consciousness, but at present
she seemed to be resting as comfortably as could be expected. A
trained nurse had been sent for, and would come that night. That
was all. And Nancy turned sobbingly, and went back to her
kitchen.
It was sometime during the next forenoon that Pollyanna opened
conscious eyes and realized where she was.
"Why, Aunt Polly, what's the matter? Isn't it daytime? Why don't
I get up?" she cried. "Why, Aunt Polly, I can't get up," she
moaned, falling back on the pillow, after an ineffectual attempt
to lift herself.
"No, dear, I wouldn't try--just yet," soothed her aunt quickly,
but very quietly.
"But what is the matter? Why can't I get up?"
Miss Polly's eyes asked an agonized question of the white-capped
young woman standing in the window, out of the range of
Pollyanna's eyes.
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