The day after the party the two girls sat as usual in the big swing talking things over.

"I like that boy with the funny name," said Dotty; "the one they call Lollie. Such a silly name for a boy!"

"Yes; such a dignified name as Lorillard ought not to have such a silly nickname. But he's always called Lollie. He is a nice boy, but I like Joe Collins better."

"Yes, he's funny and makes you laugh all the time. But those twin boys are the nicest of all. What funny names they all have. Tod and Tad!"

"How do you like the girls?"

"The Rawlins girls are nice and Celia Ferris. But I like you best, Dolly, and except for parties I don't care so much about a crowd. Let's go roller skating."

"Oh, no; let's sit here and swing; it's too hot to skate."

"Pshaw! come on. You're too lazy for anything. You just sit around and do nothing and that's what makes you so fat. Get your skates and I'll race you around the block. Really, Doll, you ought to take more exercise or you'll get terribly fat."

"Well, you'd better not take so much then, for you're as thin as a ping-wing now!"

"What's a ping-wing?"

"I don't know, but it's the thinnest thing there is. All right, I'll skate around the block once or twice, and then we'll go and see if there are any little cakes left over from yesterday."

In a short time the two girls had their skates on and started to roll along the smooth, wide pavements of Summit Avenue.

"Let's do this," proposed Dotty. "Start right here in front of our house; you go one way and I the other round the whole block and see if we can come back and meet right straight here."

"All right, but I know I can't go as fast as you do. You skate like a streak of lightning."

"Well, I'll go sort of slow for me, and you go as swift as you can, and let's try to come together right here."

The two girls started in opposite directions, and turned their respective corners on their way around the block. In due time they passed each other in the street back of their own, and Dotty nodded approval as she saw they were about half way round. They didn't pause to exchange any words but, waving their hands, went on their way and rounded again on Summit Avenue.

As they saw each other approach, they regulated their speed in a careful attempt to meet exactly where they had started. Dotty had to curb her speed and go a little more slowly or she would be ahead of time. But Dolly saw that it would take a pretty strong spurt for her to reach the goal, so when they were about ten feet apart Dolly made a special effort and put all her strength into a last grand dash. Dotty hadn't looked for this and as she rolled rather slowly to the appointed place Dolly came along and with a fell swoop, unable to control her direction, she crashed right into Dotty and the two girls went down in a heap. The impact was so sudden and unexpected that neither had a chance to save herself in any way and there was a tangle of waving arms and legs, and skate-rollers as the crash occurred.

"I've broken myself," Dolly announced calmly, though her voice sounded dazed and queer. Dotty opened her mouth to speak but changed her mind and gave voice to the wildest kind of a shriek. She followed this up with several others of increasing force and volume and looked at Dolly, wondering why she didn't yell too. But the reason was that Dolly had fainted and the white face and closed eyes of her friend made Dotty scream louder than ever.

Various members of the two families ran to the scene, as well as several neighbours.

Mrs. Fayre and Mrs. Rose looked on somewhat helplessly at the two girls, but Aunt Clara went at once at the rescue. She and Trudy lifted Dotty to her feet and found she could stand.

"Try to stop screaming, dearie," said Aunt Clara, "and tell me where you're hurt."

"I don't know," cried Dotty; "I don't know and I don't care! But Dolly is dead! My Dolly, my own Dollyrinda is dead! And it's all my fault 'cause I made her go skating, and my arm hurts awful! Ow!"

"Her arm is broken," said Mrs. Bayliss, gently lifting Dotty's right hand, which caused more piercing shrieks. "What shall we do? Somebody call a doctor quick!"

Meanwhile the strong arms of a neighbour's gardener had lifted Dolly and was carrying her toward her own home.

"It's her leg that's bruk," he said, holding her as gently as possible. "It's good luck she fainted; she'll come round all right, but she's bruk a bone, the poor dear."

It seemed ages to the anxious mothers and friends, but it was really only a short time before doctors arrived and the two little sufferers were put to bed and their injuries attended to.

Sure enough Dolly's leg was broken, and Dotty had a fractured arm.

Both houses were in a tumult of confusion as surgeons and nurses took possession and bones were set and splints and bandages applied.

Dolly Fayre took it quietly and seemed almost awestricken, when at last she realised that she was in her bed to stay for several weeks.

"But it doesn't hurt much," she said wonderingly to Trudy. "Why does it take so long to get well?"

"Because the bone has to knit, dear, and that is a slow process. I'm glad it doesn't hurt, but it may at times. The worst, though, is that you will get very tired lying still so long. But I know what a brave little girl you are, and we will all do all we can to help and amuse you."

"Did Dotty break anything?"

"Yes, she broke her left arm. That is not as bad as your breaking your leg, for she can walk about sooner than you can. But hers is more painful, so there's small choice in the two accidents."

"Is she yelling like fury?" inquired Dolly, who herself lay placid and white-faced, though her blue eyes showed the strain she had undergone.

"Yes, she is," and Trudy smiled a little. "You two children are so different. I wish you would yell a little and not look so patiently miserable."

"What's Dolly yelling about? Because she hurts so?"

"Partly that; and partly because she's blaming herself for the whole thing."

"How ridiculous! She isn't a bit more to blame than I am. She proposed skating, but it was because I ran into her that we fell down. I tried to steer out but I couldn't."

"Don't think about who is to blame; that doesn't matter. The only thing to think about is to get well as quick as you can."

"But we can't do anything to help that along; the doctors have to do that."

"Indeed you can help a lot. If you're patient and quiet and cheerful you will get well sooner than if you fuss and fret and cry. That might cause fever and inflammation and all sorts of things."

Trudy was sitting on the edge of Dolly's bed and she smiled lovingly down at her little sister. "I'm going to take care of you," she went on; "Mother wants to have a trained nurse, but I think you would like it better to have me for a nurse, wouldn't you?"

"I'd like it better," and Dolly looked up wistfully, "but I don't want to bother you too much, Trudy."

"Oh, it isn't any bother, and besides, Mother will do a great deal of the nursing. Here she comes now with your luncheon."

Mrs. Fayre came in, bringing a dainty tray on which was a small bowl of broth and some crackers.

"The nurse has gone," she announced, "and I'm glad of it. It was necessary to have her here while the doctors set the broken bones, and she will come in every morning as long as may be necessary. But it's much nicer to be in charge of this case myself and have full jurisdiction over my patient."

"Oh, ever so much nicer, Mother," and Dolly raised affectionate blue eyes to her mother's face. "Can I sit up to eat?"

"No, honey; you'll have to learn to eat lying down. But Mother will feed you and we'll pretend you're one of those grand Roman ladies who always ate their meals reclining on a couch."

So, although not altogether a comfortable procedure, Dolly took her first lesson in swallowing without raising her head.

Meantime somewhat different scenes were being enacted next door.

Dotty's more excitable nature had been thoroughly upset by the shock of the accident, the pain of her injury and the remorse that she felt at feeling herself responsible for the tragedy.

Her screams were hysterical and the efforts of her mother, her aunt and the nurse to quiet her were alike unavailing.

"I've killed my Dolly! I've killed my Dolly!" she would cry over and over, and though they told her that Dolly Fayre was resting quietly and suffering very little pain, she would not believe it and insisted they were deceiving her.

"You only say that to quiet me!" she cried. "I know it isn't true. I know Dolly has broken most all her bones and I know she'll never walk again. Why, I saw her myself, all limp and dead-looking. If she lives she'll be a cripple. Oh, my arm! my arm! I wish they'd cut it off! I'd rather not have it at all than have it hurt like this."

Impulsive Dotty tried to move her injured arm and then shrieked with the pain it caused her.

"You mustn't do that!" said Nurse Johnson somewhat severely; "if you try to move that arm it won't heal right and you'll have to have it broken over again and re-set."

Dotty glared at the nurse and then screamed: "I hate you! You go right straight out of this house! My mother can take care of me good enough and I don't want you around."

"There, there, Dotty dear," said Mrs. Rose; "don't talk to nurse like that. She has been very kind to you; and it's true if you move your arm around like that or try to do so, you'll make your injury far worse."

"I don't care! I want to make it worse! I want to have it cut off! I won't have a broken arm,— I won't— I won't!"

"Don't mind her, nurse; she's beside herself with pain and fright."

"Oh, that's all right, Mrs. Rose," and the white-capped nurse smiled; "I don't blame little girls for being cantankerous when they're laid up like this. It's awful hard on them and nobody knows it better than I do. And I'm not going to stay long, Miss Dotty. Only a day or two till your mother and aunt get the knack of taking care of you."

"I shall be head nurse," said Mrs. Bayliss, smiling at Dotty, "and your mother shall be my assistant."

"I don't want you for my nurse, Aunt Clara, and I don't want Miss Johnson, I just want Mother all the time."

"Yes, Dotty, dear, Mother will be here all the time," and Mrs. Rose gently stroked the moist dark curls back from the little brow.

For a few moments Dotty was quieter, and then she screamed out again, "Tell me about Dolly, tell me the truth about Dolly. Did she break both her legs?"

"No, dear, only one. It has been set and she is doing nicely, although she will be in bed for a long time. You will probably get up and go to see her long before she can come in here."

"I want to go now!" and Dotty tried to rise; "I want to see Dolly! I must see Dolly!"

Gently but firmly the nurse held Dotty down on the pillows. "Lie still," she commanded, for she saw that stern measures were necessary.

"I can't lie still, when I don't know how Dolly is! I don't believe what you tell me about her. But I'll believe Genie. She always tells me the truth. Come here, Genie!"

Dotty screamed her sister's name in a loud voice, and the little girl came running into the sick room.

Genie looked scared and white-faced as she saw Dotty in splints and bandages.

"Genie," said Dotty, and her black eyes burned like coals, "you go straight over to Fayres and see Dolly. See for yourself and see just how she is and come straight back and tell me."

"Let her go," said the nurse; "that's a good idea."

So Genie ran over to the next house and found Mrs. Fayre.

"Please let me see Dolly," she said earnestly, "'cause if I don't Dotty thinks she's dead, and then Dotty will die too, so please let me see her, Mrs. Fayre. Can't I?"

After some consideration Mrs. Fayre said Genie might go to Dolly's room for a few moments.

"How are you, Dolly?" said the child, marching in and standing by the bedside with the air of a Royal Messenger.

"I'm pretty good," and Dolly smiled wanly at her little visitor. "How's Dotty?"

"Dotty's awful. But she'll be better when she knows how you are. So tell me zactly."

"Well, tell Dotty my right leg is broken. One of the bones just above the ankle. But tell her except for that, I'm all right and for her not to worry about me and we'll see who can get well first. And give her my love and—and—oh, that's all, good-bye, Genie!"

The little girl ran out of the room and as soon as she disappeared Dolly burst into floods of weeping. That was her way of relieving her overburdened nerves instead of screaming hysterically like Dotty.

Trudy tried to soothe her, but there was no staying the torrent of tears, until at last they stopped because Dolly was exhausted.

"There," said Mrs. Fayre brightly as she wiped Dolly's eyes, "I'm just glad you did that! There's nothing like a good cry to straighten things out. Now I shouldn't be one bit surprised if you could take a nice little nap." And Dolly did so.

Meantime Genie trotted home with her comforting news for Dotty.

"Dolly's all right," she announced. "'Cept one leg is broked. But that's all. Only just one bone of one leg. And she says to see who'll get well first."

"How did she look?" asked Dotty eagerly.

"Like a angel," replied Genie, enthusiastically. "Her face was all white and her eyes were so blue and her hair was all goldy and braided in two curly braids tickling around her ears. Oh, she looked lovely! Heaps better than you do, Dot. Your face is all red and splotchy, and your eyes are as big as saucers and your hair looks like the dickens."

"I don't care," said Dotty, crossly; "I don't care how I look."

"But I care how you feel," said her mother, "and now you know that Dolly is very much alive, I'm sure you'll let nurse bathe your face and brush your hair and then I'm going to sing you to sleep."

As is usual in case of broken bones the first night proved a very trying time for all concerned.

Dolly Fayre, though an unusually patient child, felt as if she could not bear the pain and discomfort of her strapped and splinted leg. Her mother and Trudy, and her father too, did all they could to alleviate her sufferings, but the uncontrollable tears welled up in the blue eyes and rolled over the fevered cheeks of the little sufferer.

"I try to be good, Father," she said, as Mr. Fayre bent over her, "but it does hurt so awful."

"Does it, you dear blessed baby? Let Daddy cuddle your head in his arm, so, and sing to you, maybe that will help."

But when Mr. Fayre gently put his arm under the golden head on the pillow Dolly cried out that his coat sleeve was too scratchy.

"Well, now, we'll just fix that! Give me one of your dressing gowns, Mother."

Dolly had to laugh a little when Mrs. Fayre brought a silk kimono of her own and managed to get its loose folds draped around her stalwart husband.

"Now I rather guess we won't scratch our poor little fevery cheeks," and Mr. Fayre so deftly slipped his silk clad arm under Dolly's head, that she rested in his strong clasp with a feeling of security and comfort.

"That's lovely, Daddy; it just seems as if I had some of your big strong strength and my pain doesn't hurt so much."

Then Mr. Fayre sang in soft low tones which greatly soothed the little patient. But not for long. All through the night the paroxysms of agony would recur and poor little Dolly cried like a baby, because she couldn't possibly help it.

But the Rose family had even worse times to take care of Dotty. She, too, suffered intensely and even made it worse because she wouldn't stay still. With a sudden jerk she would sit up in bed and then scream with the pain occasioned by wrenching her injured arm.

"You mustn't do that, dear," said Mr. Rose, who usually could calm Dotty in her most wilful moments.

"I have to!" cried the little girl; "you would, too, if your arm was all on fire, and shooting needles into you and not set right and has to be broken over again and all twisted up and hanging by a thread, anyway! Ow!—ow!—OW!!" Her voice rose in a shrill screech and she rocked back and forth in her pain and anger.

"Now, Dotty dear," said her father, "you must realise that you make matters a great deal worse by jumping around and moving your arm—"

"But I can't help it! I'm going to shake it till I shake it off!" and Dotty gave a violent shake of her shoulders and then screamed with the added pain she brought on herself.

She so disarranged the bandages that it was necessary to telephone for the doctor at once to readjust them.

"This won't do, young lady," said Dr. Milton as he looked at the havoc she had wrought in his careful work; "if you keep up these performances you'll have to be strapped to the bed so tightly that you can't move either arm. How would you like that?"

"I'd break loose somehow! you shan't strap me down!" Dotty's eyes blazed and her black curls bobbed as she shook her head angrily at the doctor.

But Dr. Milton paid little heed to her words. He redressed her arm and then said in his firm yet pleasant way: "I don't know you very well, Miss Dotty, but I perceive you have a strong will of your own. Now are you going to use it rightly to help yourself get well, or wrongly to make all the trouble possible for yourself and every one else?"

Dotty looked at him. She was not accustomed to this kind of talk, for her parents were inclined to be over indulgent with her tantrums and her temper.

"I do want to get well as soon as I can," she said, "and I will try to be good,—but you don't know how it hurts."

"Yes, I do know," and the good doctor smiled down at her; "I know it hurts like fury! like the very dickens and all! and I know it's just all you can do to bear it. But if you can get through to-night, I'll promise you it'll feel better to-morrow."

He went away and Dotty did try to be as good as she could, but the awful twinges of pain frequently made her forget her resolutions and to herself and the whole household it seemed as if the night would never end.