"Come with me and I'll put something on it to make it hurt less," said Jan, and crossed to the door.
"Hadn't we better," he said, rather breathlessly, "put that thing on for fear of Fay?"
Jan carefully replaced the "thing" and took
him to her room, where she bandaged the poor little hand with carron-oil and cotton-wool. The outer edge was scorched from little finger to wrist. She made no remark while she did it, and Tony leaned confidingly against her the while.
"Is that better?" she asked, when she had fastened the final safety-pin in the bandage. There was one big tear on Tony's cheek.
"It's nice and cool, that stuff. Why does it hurt so, Auntie Jan? It looks so kind and pretty."
"It is kind and pretty, only we mustn't go too near. Will you be sure and tell Fay how it can hurt?"
"I'll tell her," he promised, but he didn't seem to have much hope of the news acting as a deterrent.
When at bed-time Jan announced that Tony could not possibly bathe Fay because he mustn't get his hand wet or disturb the dressing, she and Meg tremblingly awaited the awful fuss that seemed bound to follow.
But Fay was always unexpected. "Then Med muss wass me," she remarked calmly. The good custom was established and Meg began to perk up again.