Some supper consisting of cold mutton, vegitables and a jug of ale was laid out on a round table in the centre of the room, and small parrifin lamp burnt on the mantleshelf. Going over to this last object Cyril screwed it up, so that its glare fell, full on Helen's face.
"Why she's hurt herself terribly" cried Cyril in alarm, pointing to a wound in her forehead from which blood had been streaming down her face.
"Is your landlady up?" enquired Mr. Palsey seriously.
"I should rather doubt it, why?" asked Cyril.
"Because Miss Winston should be taken to her bedroom at once, I'm afraid it is a bad cut" replied Mr. Palsey.
"I'll ring" responded Cyril and he acted accordingly.
In ten minutes or so an oldish woman entered holding a candle and her garments had evidently been flung on in a hurry.
"What now sir?" she asked.
"Sorry for disturbing you Mrs. Pollard but this young lady of mine has had a terrible fall and must be taken to her bedroom at once, we thought it was only a faint said Cyril.
"Lardy dardy" exclaimed Mrs. Pollard "poor young lady, I'll see to her at once sir."