Alone with her patient, Mrs. Petty, an enthusiast for cleanliness and fresh air, went on her knees, and, having plucked out the charred ring of the little hole in the carpet, opened the window wider to rid the room of the smell of burning. “If it wasn't for me,” she thought, leaning out into the air, “I don't know what'd become of them.”
A voice from a few feet away said:
“I hope he's none the worse. What does the doctor say?”
Looking round in astonishment, Mrs. Petty saw a young lady leaning out of a window on her right.
“We can't tell at present,” she said, with a certain reserve he is going on satisfactory.
“It's not hydrophobia, is it?” asked the young lady. “You know he fell out of the window?
“What!” ejaculated Mrs. Petty.
“Where the lilac's broken. If I can give you a hand I shall be very glad. I'm a V.A.D.”
“Thank you, I'm sure,” said Mrs. Petty stiffly, for the passion of jealousy, to which she was somewhat prone, was rising in her, “there is no call.” And she thought, “V.A. indeed! I know them.”
Poor dear said the young lady. “He did come a bump. It was awfully funny! Is he—er——?” And she touched her forehead, where tendrils of fair hair were blowing in the breeze.