He watched me almost constantly, and so noticeable was his action that I saw every one at the table was aware of it.  It was a gaze to set any one’s brain throbbing with wild conjectures, so mournful, so elusive it was.  The fantastic thought crossed my mind that this mysterious elderly friend of my dead mother’s looked like a long famished man, coming suddenly in sight of food.

By the time the dinner was over I was intensely nervous.  Katie served us our coffee in the living room, and when I took mine my hand trembled so that the tiny cup rattled against the saucer.  I rose from my chair and walked to the fireplace, set the cup upon the mantel and stood looking into the blazing logs Jim had heaped against the old chimney.  My guests could not see my face, and I hoped to be able to pull myself together.

“Ready to have me tell you how you look to me, now?” said Harry Underwood’s voice, softly, insidiously in my ear.

I started and moved a little away from him, which brought me nearer to the fire.  The next moment I was wildly beating at little tongues of flame running up the flimsy fabric of my dress.

I heard hoarse shouts, shrill screams, felt rough hands seize me, and wrap me in heavy, stifling cloth, which seemed to press the flames searingly down into my flesh, and then for a little I knew no more.

It seemed only a moment that I lost consciousness.  When I came back to myself I was lying on the couch with Lillian Underwood’s deft, tender fingers working over me.  From somewhere back of me Dicky’s voice sounded in a hoarse, gasping way that terrified me.

“For God’s sake, Lil, is she—­”

Lillian’s voice, firm, reassuring, answered: 

“No, Dicky, no, she’s pretty badly burned, I fear, but I am sure she will be all right.  Now, dear boy, get your mother to her room and make her lie down.  Mrs. Durkee and I can take care of Madge better with you all out of the way.  Did you get a doctor, Alfred?”

“Coming as soon as he can get here,” Alfred Durkee replied.

“Good,” Lillian returned.  “Now everybody except Mrs. Durkee get out of here.  Katie, bring a blanket, some sheets, and one of Mrs. Graham’s old nightdresses from her room.  I shall have to cut the gown.”

Even through the terrible scorching heat which seemed to envelop my body I realized that Lillian, as always, was dominating the situation.  I could hear the snip of her scissors as she cut away the pieces of burned cloth, and the low-toned directions to Mrs. Durkee, which told me that Lillian already had secured our first aid kit and was giving me the treatment necessary to alleviate my pain until the physician should arrive.

I am sorry to confess it, but I am a coward where physical pain is concerned.  I am not one of those women who can bear the torturing pangs of any illness or accident without an outcry.  And, struggle as I might, I could not repress the moan which rose to my lips.