"We're going to Bridport to tea," she said.
He came immediately and revealed a badly torn trouser leg.
"I fell," he explained. "I fell through a rotten ceiling, and I've cut my leg. When I was young the sight of blood made me go fainty, but I laugh at it now."
He pulled up his trousers and showed a badly barked shin.
"We'll go to a chemist and get him to wash it, and I'll get a needle and thread and sew it up," said Estelle.
She condoled with him as they drove to Bridport, but he was impatient of sympathy.
"I don't mind pain," he said. "I've tried the Red Indian tests on myself before to-day. Once I had to see a doctor after; but I didn't flinch when I was doing it."
A chemist dressed the wounded leg and presently they arrived at 'The
Seven Stars,' where the pony was stabled and tea taken in the garden.
Mrs. Legg provided a needle and thread and produced a very excellent
tea.
Abel enjoyed the swing for some time, but would not let Estelle help him.
"I can swing myself," he said, "but I'll swing you afterwards."