“Well?”
“And the candle caught my sleeve and set it on fire.”
Miss Tredgold now began to look so pale that Verena vaguely wondered if she were going to faint. The little culprit, however, stood bolt upright and gazed with defiant black eyes at her aunt.
“Yes,” said Pauline, “I suffered awful pain, and the sleeve blazed up like anything; but I ran to the basin of water and put it out. I was afraid to tell you. I had to tell Renny that I had burnt my arm, but I didn’t tell her how it happened, and I wouldn’t allow her to breathe to you that I was in pain. That was the reason I could not wear my pretty blouse last night, and you were angry with me. I hope you won’t be angry any more; but the sleeve of the dress is burnt badly. Perhaps you won’t give me any birthday present because the sleeve of my new dress is so much injured.”
“I will see about that. The thing is to cure your arm. The doctor must come immediately.”
“But it is getting better.”
“You must see the doctor,” said Miss Tredgold.
She went out of the room as she spoke. Pauline sank into a chair; Verena looked down at her.
“Have you told the truth?” asked Verena suddenly.
Pauline nodded with such a savage quickness that it made her sister positively certain that she had not heard the right story.