Directly the fire was quite out, nurse urged Ella to return to her aunt, while she herself examined the extent of Annie’s burns. Happily, the poor girl was wearing a dress of thick woollen material, which had taken a long time to ignite, so that, although her muslin apron had made a great blaze, she herself was hardly injured at all. It was, in reality, Mrs. Wilson who suffered the most, the excitement causing her a sleepless night, followed next day by a violent headache and feverish attack.
After breakfast the following day, Ella made up her mind to hold a solemn inquiry into the causes of the accident, the result of which filled her with amazement that the whole house had not been burnt down long ago.
There was no gas in the house, and, as a great deal of oil was required, a large tin vessel containing several gallons was kept (or was supposed to be) in an outhouse; while, in order to avoid the danger of taking a light near this supply of oil, Mrs. Wilson had given instructions that the lamps should always be cleaned and re-filled during the morning.
But the outhouse was cold, and the lamps were often forgotten until they were wanted in the evening; so the large can of oil had been surreptitiously brought into one of the pantries, where it could be more easily got at.
On this occasion, as on many others, Annie had forgotten to fill the hall lamp, and when it reminded her of the fact by smoking, making a choking smell, and finally going out, she took it down and filled it, using the naked flame of a benzoline lamp to light the dark little pantry.
Even this foolhardy act did not, as it might have done, set the whole store of oil in flames, and she actually trimmed and re-lighted the lamp in safety, and was carrying it through the kitchen, when a sudden draught blew the flame of the benzoline lamp against her hand, on which some oil was spilled. This flamed up, and the frightened girl dropped both lamps. The larger one exploded in the fall, setting fire to the oil and to her own apron, and, but for nurse’s quickness and presence of mind, she would probably have been burned to death.
All this information, very unwillingly given, added to cook’s remark that there was not a lamp that would burn properly in the house, so frightened Ella that she felt inclined to give up the use of lamps altogether, and burn nothing but candles. On second thoughts, however, and after consulting Mrs. Mobberly, to whom she always referred in all her difficulties, she sent instead for the man who had supplied the lamps, and had them all reviewed.
He declared that all the mischief arose from the dirty state of the lamps, which, much to the indignation of the maids, he requested Ella to look at, to prove the truth of his words.
“If you have good lamps, and keep them perfectly clean, and burn good oil, you are quite safe,” he said; “but if you neglect any of those three, they are the most dangerous things you can have about a house.”
Ella honestly acknowledged that she knew nothing at all about lamps, and had never cleaned one in her life, but she was determined to understand the matter thoroughly now, and begged the man to explain exactly what cleansing was necessary to keep them in good order.