Florrie was only slightly burned, but Cynthia's little hands were so blistered that they would neither wash dishes nor pick beans for many a day.
Mrs. Dean bathed them in sweet oil and bandaged them from the air, then put Cynthia to bed on a couch in a chamber opening out of her own room. From time to time in the night she went to see if the dear child was sleeping quietly, and Mr. Dean, standing and looking at her, said, "We owe this little one a great debt; her presence of mind saved Florrie's life."
Early the next morning Bonny Bess trotted up to Mr. Mason's door without Cynthia. Aunt Kate was feeling impatient for her return. She missed the willing little helper more than she had supposed possible. She had arranged half a dozen tasks for the day, in everyone of which she expected to employ Cynthia, and she felt quite disappointed when she saw that Mr. Dean was alone.
"Another picnic for to-day, I suppose," she said to herself. "Cynthia may just as well learn first as last that we cannot afford to let her go to such junketings often."
But Mr. Dean broke in upon her thoughts by saying, blandly: "Good morning, madam. Will you kindly tell me where to find Mr. Mason?"
"He's in the south meadow," she answered, civilly, pointing in that direction. "I see you've not brought Cynthia home, Mr. Dean. I need her badly. Mrs. Dean promised to send her home early."
"Mrs. Dean will call on you herself in the course of the day; and it is about Cynthia that I wish to consult her father, my good lady," said Mr. Dean, lifting his hat, as if to a queen, as he drove toward the meadow.
"Well! well! well!" said Aunt Kate, feeling rather resentful, but on the whole rather pleased with the "good lady" and the courteously lifted hat. A charming manner is a wonderful magician in the way of scattering sunshine.
The boarders, observing the little scene from the side porch, hoped that Cynthia's outing was to be prolonged. One and all liked the handy, obliging little maiden who had so much womanly work to do and so scanty a time for childish play.
When, however, at noon, Mr. Mason came home, holding his head up proudly and looking five years younger, and told how brave Cynthia had been; when neighbor after neighbor, as the news flew over the place, stopped to congratulate the Masons on the possession of such a little heroine—Miss Mason was at first puzzled, then triumphant.