“I would rather not tell.”
“But why should you conceal it, Paulie?”
“I’d rather conceal it; please don’t ask me. All I want you to do is to ask me no questions, but to help me to get my arm well; the pain is almost past bearing. But, Renny, whatever happens, Aunt Sophia must not know.”
“You are fearfully mysterious,” said Verena, who looked much alarmed. “You used not to be like this, Paulie. You were always very open, and you and I shared every thought Well, come into the house. Of course, whatever happens, I will help you; but I think you ought to tell me the whole truth.”
“I can’t, so there! If you are to be a real, real sister to me, you will help me without asking questions.”
The girls entered the house and ran up to Pauline’s bedroom. There the injured arm was exposed to view, and Verena was shocked to see the extent of the burn.
“You ought to see a doctor. This is very wrong,” she said.
She made Pauline lie down, and dressed her arm as well as she could. Verena was quite a skilful little nurse in her own way, and as Pauline had some of the wonderful ointment which the Kings’ cook had given her, and as Verena knew very nicely how to spread it on a piece of rag, the arm soon became more comfortable.
Just before dinner Miss Tredgold called all the girls round her.
“I have something to say,” she remarked. “I want you all to go upstairs now; don’t wait until five minutes before dinner. You will each find lying on your bed, ready for wearing, a suitable dinner-blouse. Put it on and come downstairs. You will wear dinner-dress every night in future, in order to accustom you to the manners of good society. Now go upstairs, tidy yourselves, and come down looking as nice as you can.”