It was really a very superficial wound; but of course I did not explain that; making a little demonstration about the wrapping up with Becky's assistance.
'It has made you look quite ill, dear!' went on Lilian, kneeling down by my side. 'Let me tie that, Becky.'
But Becky would not yield an inch until I had given her a little look of reminder, and then did so very reluctantly.
'And your clothes are quite wet, darling!' ejaculated Lilian. 'You must have been out in all that storm. Fearful, wasn't it? Could not you find any shelter?'
'No; it had to be borne as best it might,' I grimly replied; though I called myself to order at once; a startled look in Lilian's eyes shewing me that I could not talk about storms with impunity as yet.
Then there was dear little Mrs Tipper hurrying in with a concerned face to inquire what had happened, and recommending all sorts of remedies for my hand. Did I not think it better to send Becky into the village for Mr Stone the surgeon? Was I quite sure it did not require being strapped up? Had I looked to see if there was anything in the wound? &c.
But I had my hand well muffled up; and assured them, with more truth than they suspected, that it really was not a very serious cut. 'Only I think I will say good-night, and take off these wet things at once, if you will excuse my not coming down again,' I added, with a feverish longing to be alone.
I had nevertheless to submit to mulled wine and a great deal of comforting and petting. And Lilian entreated to be allowed to remain with me during the night. 'Dear Mary, do let me stay; I feel sure that you are not so well as you think you are.'
But I sent her off with a jest; and my first difficulty was overcome. Two hours later, when she had made sure that the others were at rest, Becky stole into my room.
'I will lie on the floor, and I won't speak a word; but don't send me away, please don't send me away,' she whispered.