I fell heavily on
THAT foot, and when I was helped up the steps I could not put it to the
ground. "You may have him for your pains," said his owner to me; "he is
a useless cur. I wouldn't have ventured the singeing of a hair for
him." "May I?" I replied, with an eagerness which must have seemed very
strange. He was indeed not worth half a crown, but I drew him closely
to me and took him into the cab. I was in great agony, and when the
surgeon came it was discovered that my ankle was badly fractured. An
attempt was made to set it, but in the end it was decided that the foot
must be amputated. I rejoiced when I heard the news, and on the day on
which the operation was performed I was calm and even cheerful. Our own
doctor who came with the surgeon told him I had "a highly nervous
temperament," and both of them were amazed at my fortitude. The dog is
a mongrel, as you see, but he loves me, and if you were to offer me ten
thousand golden guineas I would not part with him.
LETTERS FROM MY AUNT ELEANOR {180} TO HER DAUGHTER SOPHIA, AND A
FRAGMENT FROM MY AUNT'S DIARY.
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