"What is the matter with your arm?" she said, standing by him to take back the glass. "A ladder fell on it," he said. "And you sent for the doctor, did you?" "The doctor, no! What time has there been to be sending off for doctors?" he returned, rather impatiently, turning himself in the chair, but with a groan. Missy ran out of the room, and in two minutes somebody was on the way to the village for the doctor. Eliza came back into the room with her. "Can't you get on the sofa? and we'll make you easier," said Missy, standing by him. But he shook his head. "I think I'll rest a little here," he said, "and then get to my room." "I know; I've sent for the doctor, but I am afraid it will be some time before he comes. I thought I might be doing something for your hand that's strained; I am afraid to meddle with your arm. Do you think your shoulder's out of place, or anything like that?" "No, I hardly think it is," he said. "It's more likely nothing but a bruise; but it hurts like--thunder!" This last came from an attempt to get out of his chair. Missy shook up the pillows of the sofa. "See," she said, "you'll be more comfortable here; let Eliza help you." He submitted, and got to the sofa. "Now, before you lie down, let us get your coat off," she said. She felt as if he were Jay, and must be coaxed. But getting the coat off was not an easy matter; in fact, it was an impossible matter. "It's torn a good deal," she said; "you wouldn't care if I got the scissors and cut it a little?" "Cut it into slivers!" he said, concisely. He was evidently feeling concisely, poor man! Eliza flew for the scissors; in a moment Missy's pretty fingers had done the work, and the poor mutilated coat fell to the floor, a sacrifice to neighborly devotion. "Now run and get me a pail of boiling water, and some flannels--quick. In the meantime, Mr. Andrews, turn your hand a little; I want to get at the button of your sleeve. Oh, dear! don't move it; I see. Here go the scissors again. I'll mend the sleeve for you, I promise; it's the least that I can do. There! _now_ it's all right. Now let me get this towel under your wrist. Ah! I know it hurt; but it had to be done. Now here's the hot water. Eliza, kneel here by Mr. Andrews; and as fast as I hand you the flannel, put it on his wrist--see, just there." Missy withdrew, and gave her place to Eliza; but the first touch of her hands to the flannel which she was to wring out made her jump so, she felt sure she never could do justice to them.