“I was telling what happened at the fire,” said Mary. “There was a poor old man in the house at the time, who had arrived only the day before to see Colonel Osborne. He had belonged to his regiment, I believe. He was sleeping high up stairs, at the back of the house, and nobody remembered him when the fire was discovered. Miss Osborne recollected him at last, and while every body was busy, she wrapt a blanket round her and flew up the back stairs. The curtains of the old man’s bed were on fire, and he was fast asleep when she burst in. She thought he was suffocated; but as soon as she dashed some water on his face, he roused himself enough to let her put the woollen coverlid over his shoulders, and lead him down the burning stairs. While she was helping him, the blanket slipped, and her gown-sleeve caught fire. She was dreadfully burned; but she scarcely felt the pain, while the stairs cracked and cracked again at every step they took, and the flames rushed and roared all round them. At the foot of the stairs she met her father, coming in despair to look for her; but though he saw how she was blackened with smoke, he asked no questions till he had helped her to get the old man beyond the reach of the burning rafters which fell on the lawn.”
“Bravo! Like daughter, like father,” cried Mr. Fletcher. “But what became of her?”
“Her face was so much burned that nobody could know her for the Miss Osborne that used to be so much admired; and what is worse, her left arm is so shrunk up, that she never can use it again. As for the poor old man, between the fire, and the fright and the grief, he was quite worn out, and he died the next week.”
“What a disastrous fire!” exclaimed Mr. Fletcher. “How the young lady must wish that she had staid where she was safe!”
“O! no, sir,” said Mary, in a low voice.
“Why, you say she did not save the old man after all.”
“No; but what a conscience she would have had all her life long! Do you think all her beauty and the use of all her limbs would have made up for that?”
“Well then, she must wish that the fire had never happened. Why do you shake your head now?”
“Because it is worth all she suffered, and more, to know what she can do on such an occasion. She need never be afraid again that she shall not be able to do her duty, or to bear the consequences.”
“Her father, at least, must be very sorry that the fire happened.”