"I don't know, but I'm going to find out," answered Betty, who had
already started for the hall. As they reached the top of the stairs
they stopped short, for there sat Arthur, very red, very much out
of breath and, it must be confessed, very cross.

"Oh, Arthur, how you scared us! I thought some one was just about
killed," cried Betty.

"It was those confounded crutches," answered Arthur gruffly. "They
slipped just as I reached the top stair, and I nearly broke my
neck trying to catch them. I don't see how I am going to get into
my room unless you'll get them for me, Betty," he added helplessly.

"Why, of course; how stupid of me not to think of it!" said Betty,
as she slipped by him and ran lightly down the stairs.

Ruth stood in the hall feeling very ill at ease. She wished Arthur
would laugh and make things seem less solemn. Then as he didn't
look at her or say a word she went back into her room again.

"Wasn't that too bad?" said Betty softly as she came in and closed
the door. "Arthur is dreadfully sensitive about his lameness, and
I am afraid it will take him a long time to get over this afternoon's
experience. Why, just think, this is the first time I've seen him
since his accident."

Betty was trying to look sober, but her eyes were dancing with
merriment in spite of her efforts. Finally she gave a half-stifled
little laugh as she said, "I was dreadfully sorry for him, but he