"I will be very discreet; but I am going to keep you with me all night," her teacher replied. "Now, if you can bear it, I will help you off with your clothes. You shall have one of my night-robes and go straight to bed."
With fine tact she had refrained from asking a single question; but the suffering face, the pretty dress all burned and discolored, the handkerchief wrapped about her hand, told her something of what had occurred, and she could wait until later for details.
She dexterously assisted her to undress; but while doing so the handkerchief was displaced and dropped to the floor and she had to shut her lips resolutely to repress the cry of pity that almost escaped her as she saw what it had covered. The next instant she was mentally repeating the "scientific statement of being," [Footnote: "Science and Health," page 468.] while she quietly replaced the square of linen and pinned it to keep it in place. Then, with a grateful smile and a sigh of content, Katherine slipped into bed and sank upon her pillow.
"Now go, please," she begged again, "and find out, if you can, how
Dorothy is."
"No, Kathie, I am not going just yet," was the decided reply, though there was a startled heart-bound at the girl's reference to Dorothy. She asked no questions, however, but, going back to her desk, continued her reading as before.
In about fifteen minutes she glanced towards the bed and saw by her regular breathing that Katherine had fallen asleep. She bowed her head upon her book for a moment, and when she lifted it again there were tears on her cheeks, and in her eyes "a light that was ne'er on sea or land."
Turning the gas low, she slipped softly out of the room and went downstairs to join the gay company who were all unconscious of what had been going on above.
Five minutes later Dr. Stanley came to her, his fine face overcast and anxious.
"Miss Reynolds, can you give me any information regarding Miss Minturn?" he inquired, adding: "I have been looking for her for nearly an hour, and no one seems to know where she is. I suppose you have heard about the accident?"
"An accident?" repeated the lady, inquiringly. "Yes," and he proceeded to give a brief account of the narrow escape in the lecture hall. "I told Miss Minturn to go to her room," he continued, "and I would come to her as soon as I had ascertained if all was well with Dorothy. The child is all right; she was simply frightened and lost consciousness for a few moments. But Miss Minturn was badly burned, on her hand and arm, and her beautiful dress is a wreck. Mrs. Seabrook and I have been to her room; no one was there, nor can anyone give us a clew to her whereabouts," and the gentleman looked really distressed as he concluded.