You shall come and see how comfortably he is
asleep, if you will leave off crying, and let me see that poor arm.
Did you hurt it in the fall?'
'The corner of the wall,' said Sophy. 'Oh! did it not hurt him?' but
then, just as it seemed that she was sinking on that kind breast in
exhaustion, she collected herself, and pushing Albinia off,
exclaimed, 'I did it, I took him out, I fell down with him, I hurt
his head, I've killed him, or made him an idiot for life. I did.'
'Who said so?' cried Albinia, transfixed.
'Aunt Maria said so. She said I did not feel. Oh, if I could only
die before he grows up to let one see it. Why wont you begin to hate
me?'
'My dear,' said Albinia, consoled on hearing the authority, 'people
often say angry things when they are shocked. Your aunt had not seen
Mr. Bowles, and we all think he was not in the least hurt, only
terribly frightened. Dear, dear child, I am more distressed for you
than for him!'
Sophy could hold out no longer, she let her head drop on the kind
shoulder, and seemed to collapse, with burning brow, throbbing
pulses, and sobs as deep and convulsive as had been those of her
little brother. Hastily calling Lucy, who was frightened, subdued,
and helpful, Albinia undressed the poor child, put her to bed, and
applied lily leaves and spirits to her arm. The smart seemed to
refresh her, but there had been a violent strain, as well as bruise,
and each touch visibly gave severe pain, though she never complained.
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