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.
Chapter VII.
Two Big Brothers
"Whoop-oo! Whoop-ee! Hoo-ray!! Where are you? Hey! Hi!!"
With half a dozen steps, Bob Rose ran up the staircase of his new home in Berwick, to Dotty's room.
As he had been at school when the family moved he had never seen the house before, and now, the school term over, he had come home for vacation and his first thought was for his broken-armed sister.
It was two weeks since the accident, but Dotty was still in bed. Her arm was doing nicely, but she was such a nervous and excitable child that it was thought best to keep her as quiet as possible. She was sitting up in a nest of pillows and a rose coloured kimono was draped round her bound-up arm. But she waved the other hand gaily as Bob dashed into the room.
"Well, old girl," he cried, "this is the limit! The idea of your smashing yourself like this! Here I've played every old kind of ball and everything else and never broke one of my two hundred and eight blessed bones! And you just go out on lady-like roller skates and come a cropper. Fie upon you! does it hurt much?"
"You bet it hurts, Bob! Nothing like it did at first, but it hurts a good deal, and it's awful uncomfortable. I can't move it, you know, and I can't do hardly anything for myself."
"Pooh! pshaw! of course you can do things for yourself. What a chump you are, Dot. Why it's your left arm, you ought to be able to do everything in creation with your right arm alone, except maybe play the piano or clap your hands. I'll show you how to do things. Is your right arm all right?"
"Yes, I s'pose so, but I haven't used it any."
"Jiminy crickets, isn't that just like a girl! Honest, Dot, I thought you'd have more spunk. But I'll put you through, with bells on!"
Bob Rose, just turned eighteen, was a boyish duplicate of Dotty. He had the same snapping black eyes and his hair though short had a curly twist to it which, though he hated it himself made a becoming frame for his handsome face. He was overflowing with mischief and life and was devoted to athletic or outdoor sports of all kinds. He was very fond of his sister and the two had always been great chums, though frequently indulging in spirited quarrels.
"What's this place like, anyway?" he inquired, as he sat on the edge of Dotty's bed and draped his long arm over the footboard. "You've got a jolly room all right," and he looked round admiringly at the pretty rose and grey effects.
"Yes, isn't it lovely! It was my birthday present,—the furnishings, I mean. I wrote you about it, you know. We were going to fix up a lovely room for you, too, but after I broke my arm, Mother and Aunt Clara didn't have time to do anything but tend to me."
"Well, they'll catch time now. I want a room fixed up for me as good as yours,—but not so dinky-fussy. I'll pick out the things myself. You needn't think you own the whole shooting-match, Miss Dotty-Doodles! I just guess Brother Bob home on his vacation will come in for his share of attention! You won't be neglected, I'll look out for that, but just remember that I'm here, too. What's the town like?"
"I don't know myself much. You see we had our party and I met a lot of the boys and girls and then the very next day I smashed myself and of course I haven't seen any of them since."
"But you can pretty soon now. Why, it's only your arm, your legs are all right, you can walk, can't you? Why don't you go downstairs and have people come to see you?"
"I couldn't see people in a dressing-gown!"
"Well, Mother can rig you up a basque or a polonaise or something. Or put on a raincoat or an Indian blanket,—but for goodness' sake get out and around. I'll stir you up—"
"Here, here, what's going on?" and Mrs. Rose came in just in time to hear Bob's last words. "You're not to stir Dotty up, Bob, we want to keep her quiet."
"Quiet nothing! She'll dry up and blow away if she doesn't get a move on! You're going to rig her up some sort of civilian dress Mother and get her downstairs this very day. She's not sick or going into a decline, is she?"
The influence of Bob's breezy chatter had wrought a change in Dotty. During the two weeks that had just passed she had become peevish and fretful from enforced inactivity and now the thought of getting up and going downstairs had brought the smiles to her face and the light to her eyes.
Moreover, Mrs. Rose was impressed also by the determination of her big young son and began to think that perhaps his way might be right after all.
"Now you've got to tend to me, Mumsie," Bob said in his wheedlesome way, as he caressed his mother in a big bearish fashion. "You've got to fix up a room for me, all just as I want it, and you've got to make me chocolate cakes and all sorts of good things to eat, and you've got to do lots of things for your prodigal son. Dotty has had her turn and now it's mine, but while you're busy about me, I'll look after Dot, bless her old heart!" And Bob blew a kiss from his finger tips to his pretty sister who had already begun to take a new interest in life.
"Hello, Aunt Clara," Bob called out as Mrs. Bayliss passed through the hall, "come in here and help us dressmakers. Can't you rig up a costume for Dot that will be presentable to wear downstairs?"
"Downstairs!" exclaimed Aunt Clara; "did the doctor say she could go down?"
"Dr. Bob said so!" and the boy laughed. "I know all about broken arms, and there's no use giving in to them too much. The more you do for them, the more you may. Now Dotty is going to forget hers and have just as good a time as if she never broke it. I say, Dot, how's that chum of yours, you wrote me about? Is this her picture? Wow! Ain't she the peach!"
Bob picked up the picture of Dolly from Dotty's dressing-table and admired it openly. "Does she really look like that?"
"Yes," and Dotty waxed enthusiastic; "she's beautiful. Just like a pinky rose with blue eyes."
"She broke her leg didn't she, in your all-comers' scrap?"
"Yes; she can't move for six weeks."
"Well, two weeks are gone now, that's something. Can't I see her? I'd like to sympathise."
"Oh,