Justin stayed up in the bedroom helping, as Mrs. James said afterwards, "in all the world like a sick nurse, turnin' 'im so deft like, and knowin' how to get some hot drink down his throat!"
And when Justin was assured that he was as comfortable as possible, he came down to the farm kitchen. There he found Anstice in a half-fainting condition. She was sitting in the big chair by the fire, her soaked clothes steaming from the heat; round one arm she had a blood-soaked bandage, and to his horror, Justin saw that she had seriously hurt herself.
"Oh, these women!" he ejaculated.
He called sharply to James, who had gone out to his cows in the farm, for Mrs. James was still caring for old Nixon.
"Get me a basin of warm water," he said. "My wife wants seeing to now."
He forced her to swallow a little brandy, and then she slowly opened her eyes. For an instant she looked at him vaguely.
"I am sorry," she murmured. "I had a tumble in finding Tommy, and cut my arm. It bled a good bit, and makes me feel queer. I bandaged it as tight as I could."
She closed her eyes again, whilst Justin set to work, and his touch was as gentle as any woman's. He undid the bandage, bathed the wounded arm, which was badly cut above the elbow, bandaged it up with fresh linen again, and settled her back into the chair, arranging the cushions behind her to his satisfaction and also to hers. She smiled at him; she had winced when he had touched her arm, but otherwise had borne the bandaging silently.
"Who taught you 'first aid'?" she asked.
"I taught myself," he said a little shortly; "have had plenty of experience on my boat. You ought to have your wet clothes off."