The village turned out en masse to welcome the trio who had so miraculously escaped the fire. Aunty Rose’s relief knew no bounds. Mr. Parlow was undeniably glad to see his daughter safe; otherwise, he would never have overlooked the pitiable state his horse was in. Poor Cherry would never be the same unblemished animal again.
“Well, I vum” he said to Joseph Stagg, “you done it! Better’n I could, too, I reckon. I’ll take the hoss home. You comin’ with me, Mandy?” Then he saw the burns on the younger man’s shoulders and arms. “The good land of Jehoshaphat! here’s work for you to do, Mandy. If you air any sort of a nurse, I reckon you got your hands full right here with Joe Stagg,” he added, with some pride in his daughter’s ability. “Phew! them’s bad-lookin’ burns!”
“They are indeed,” agreed Aunty Rose.
It was a fact that Mr. Stagg was in a bad state. Carolyn May had suggested that Aunty Rose would dress his burns, but Miss Amanda would allow nobody to do that but herself.
When the curious and sympathetic neighbours had gone and Miss Amanda was still busy making Joseph Stagg comfortable in the sitting-room, Aunty Rose came out into the kitchen, where she had already bathed and helped Carolyn May to undress, and where the little girl was now sleepily eating her supper of bread and milk.
“Well, wonders don’t ever cease, I guess,” she said, more to herself than to her little confidant. “Who’d have thought it!”
“Who’d have thought what, Aunty Rose?” inquired Carolyn May.
“Your uncle and Mandy Parlow have made it up,” breathed the woman, evidently much impressed by the wonder of it.
“Yes, indeed!” cried the child. “Isn’t it nice? They aren’t mad at each other any more.”
“No, I should say they’re not,” Aunty Rose observed with grimness. “Far from it. It’s a fact! I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. They haven’t got eyes for anybody but each other.”