"Is she dead?" screamed Molly. "Oh, Marjorie, is she dead?"

"I don't know," said Marjorie, whose face was almost as white as
Stella's, as she leaned over the unconscious little girl.

Although they tried, they couldn't quite manage to lift Stella up
on the couch, so Marjorie sat down on the floor and took the poor
child's head on her knee, while Molly ran for water.

"I'm sure it's right to douse people with water when they faint,"
said Molly, as she sprinkled Stella's face liberally; "and she is
only in a faint, isn't she, Marjorie? Because if people are really
struck by lightning they burn up, don't they, Marjorie?"

While she talked, Molly was excitedly pouring water promiscuously
over Stella, until the child looked as if she had been out in the
storm.

Marjorie was patting Stella's cheek and rubbing her hands, but it
all seemed of no avail; and, though Stella was breathing softly,
they could not restore her to consciousness.

"It's dreadful," said Marjorie, turning to Molly with a look of
utter despair, "and we MUST do something! It isn't RIGHT for us
two little girls to try to take care of Stella. We MUST get
Grandma here, somehow."

"But how CAN we?" said Molly. "The ladder is down, you know, and
we can't possibly get down from the house. I'd try to jump, but
it's fifteen feet, and I'd be sure to break some bones, and we'd