Mrs. Tarbell followed the procession into the elevator, and when they
arrived on the third floor, John, the office-boy, had already opened the
door, scenting an excitement afar off with curious nostril, as it were;
and Mrs. Stiles was duly carried in and laid on the sofa. "John, get
some water instantly," cried Mrs. Tarbell. And at the same moment a
red-cheeked young man bustled into the room and said that he was a
doctor.

He pushed everybody out of the way, darted to the sofa, took off his
hat. "Heard there was an accident, and if my services--unless there is
another practitioner--thank you, sir, you are doing the very best thing
possible; and now let us see whether there is a fracture," he said.

The promptitude and directness with which this young gentleman went to
work commanded the attention and admiration of all the spectators. He
asked for water, he called for salts of ammonia, he ran his hands
lightly over Mrs. Stiles's prostrate form, all in an instant; then he
asked how the accident had happened.

"She tried to get on while the car was going," growled the conductor,
who had accompanied the party up-stairs.

"I'll _bet_ she didn't," observed the party with the red moustache.

"Ankle, probably," murmured the doctor to himself. "Possibly a rib
also." And in a minute or two he was able to declare that the injury had
been done to the lady's ankle, the lady herself having assisted him to
this conclusion by coming to her senses, groaning, and putting her hand
down to the suffering joint.