I wanted to know what had become of Rolf, but Mrs. Markham said, sternly, and her lips were still very pale, that she had sent him to his room. “Tell me how it happened, Joyce,” she continued, drawing the child to her. “I told Rolf to fetch Hannah; did she not come to you?”
“Rolf didn’t fetch her, Aunt Adda; he said he was a big boy, and would take care of us. Poor Rolf did not mean to be naughty, did he, nurse?”
“Rolf must be severely punished for his disobedience; he has nearly killed your little brother, Joyce. Tell me what Rolf did after that.”
“He asked me if I would not like to see his dear little cannon that went pop when he told it,” went on Joyce, looking extremely frightened. “I did not know cannons were wicked things, and I said yes, and Rolf showed us the cannon, and told us to get out of the way, for it would kill us dead, and I runned, and baby clapped his hands and runned the wrong way, and Rolf had fire in his hand, like Hannah lights the candles with, and baby’s pinafore got on fire, and I screamed as hard as I could for nurse.”
It must have been just as Joyce said, for the toy cannon was on the floor, and a box of matches beside it. Probably Rolf had not seen Reggie beside him, and had thrown the lighted match aside in his excitement. Mrs. Markham sighed deeply as she listened. She had sustained a severe shock; her face looked very dark and rigid as she left the room. I was afraid she meant to punish Rolf severely, and begged Gay to follow her and plead for mercy.
“Rolf has had a fright that will last him for life; his terror has been punishment enough.” But Gay shook her head.
“It is no use interfering with Adelaide; she will take her own way. I am sorry for Rolf; but he deserves any punishment he gets. Reggie would have been burnt to death but for your presence of mind, Merle; none of us could have reached the nursery in time. Mr. Hawtry said so at once.”
Reggie burnt to death! and then my mistress would have died, too; she could not have survived the horror of that shock. I begged Gay faintly not to say such things; the bare mention of it turned me sick. I suppose she was alarmed by my ghastly look, for she kissed me, and said, soothingly, that I must not distress myself so; we could only be thankful that Reggie was safe.
Dr. Staples came soon after that. He was a benevolent-looking old man, and was very kind and gentle. He said one of my arms, the left one, was severely burnt, and that it would be some little time before it was healed. “These things depend a great deal on constitution; but you seem strong and healthy, Miss Fenton, so I hope you will soon be right again; but you must not expect to lose the scars.”
I was sorry to hear that, for I knew the scars would remind me of a terrible hour in my life. The dressing was very painful, and when it was finished I was compelled to follow Dr. Staples’s advice and go to bed. I was suffering from the shock, and I knew my arms would be useless to me for a week to come. I felt shaken and sick, and unable to bear the childish voices.