toppling, caught in one dizzy backward glance a
vision of a face in the automobile staring down on her, white as
chalk, under a black moustache and staring goggles, and another
face, Delia's, white too, with eyes more strained and terrible than
the goggles themselves. One second that look swept her and Miss
Honey, and then, shifting, fell upon the General strapped securely
into his carriage. Even as Caroline caught her breath, he flew by
her like an arrow, his blue eyes round with surprise under a whirl
of white parasol, the wicker body of the perambulator swaying and
lurching. With that breath still in her nostrils, she was pushed
violently against Miss Honey, who was dragged over her from the
other side by a large hairy hand. A sharp blow from her boot heel
struck Caroline's cheek, and she screamed with the pain; but her cry
was lost in the louder one that echoed around her as the dust from
the red monster blew in her eyes and shut out Delia's figure, flat
on the ground, one arm over her face as the car rushed by.

"My God! She's down!" That was the man.

"Take his number!" a shrill voice pierced the growing confusion.

Caroline, crying with pain, was forced to her feet and stumbled
along, one apron string twisted fast in Miss Honey's hand. Instantly
they were surrounded by a crowd of nurses, and Miss Honey, dazed and
obedient, was shoved and pulled from one to another.

"Here, get out o' this--don't let the children see anything! Let's
get home."

"No, wait a minute. Let's see if she's alive. Have they got the
ambulance?"

"Look out, there, Miss Dorothy, you just stop by me, or you'll be
run over, too!"

"See! She's moving her head! Maybe she's not--"

Sobbing with excitement, Caroline wrenched herself free from the
tangle of nurses and carriages, and pushed her way through the
crowd. Against the curb, puffing and grinding, stood the great red
engine; on the front seat a tall policeman sat, one woman in the
back leaned over another, limp against the high cushions, and fanned
her with the stiff vizor of her leather cap.

"It's all right, dear, it's all right," she repeated monotonously,
with set lips, "the doctor's coming. It wasn't Pullton's fault. It's
all right."

Caroline wriggled between two policemen, and made for a striped blue
and white skirt that lay motionless on the ground. Across the white
apron ran a broad dirty smudge.

Caroline ran forward.

"Delia! Delia!" she gulped. "Is she--is she d