Prudy had enjoyed a great many rides in Susy's beautiful sleigh; but now
the doctor forbade her going out, except for very short distances, and
even then, he said, she must sit in her mother's lap. He wanted her to
lie down nearly all the time, and keep very quiet.

At first, Mrs. Parlin wondered how it would be possible to keep such a
restless child quiet; but she found, as time passed, and the disease
made progress, that poor little Prudy was only too glad to lie still.
Every motion seemed to hurt her, and sometimes she cried if any one
even jarred the sofa suddenly.

These were dark days for everybody in the house. Susy, who was
thoughtful beyond her years, suffered terribly from anxiety about her
little sister. More than that, she suffered from remorse.

"O, grandma Read," said she one evening, as she sat looking up at the
solemn, shining stars, with overflowing eyes--"O, grandma!" The words
came from the depths of a troubled heart. "I may live to be real old;
but I never shall be happy again! I can't, for, if it hadn't been for
me? Prudy would be running round the house as well as ever!"

Mrs. Read had a gentle, soothing voice. She could comfort Susy when
anybody could. Now she tried to set her heart at rest by saying that the
doctor gave a great deal of hope. He could not promise a certain cure,
but he felt great faith in a new kind of splint which he was using for
Prudy's hip.

"O, grandma, it may be, and then, again, it may not be," sobbed poor