"Depend upon 't, Mrs. Fowley, he's saved your Susy's life. Best not
talk about hidings."
"What's the matter here?" cried a brisk voice at the door, as the old
doctor entered. He had been visiting in the next street, and was
fortunately met by the messenger.
"Burns. Ah! the old story--open fires and no guard. When _will_ you
women learn wisdom?"
Mrs. Fowley shrank from his stern look, and whined, "How can the likes
of we afford guards, I should like to know?"
"Afford?" he echoed sharply, as he turned from his examination of
Susy's hurts. "You women spend enough at the 'Blue Dragon' every week
to put a guard at every fire-place, to say nothing of what the men
spend. If you hadn't been drinking together, and neglecting home, this
wouldn't have happened. I can smell the gin here and now!"
The old doctor was noted for his plain speaking, but with all his
sternness to wrong doing, he was very tender-hearted, and nothing could
have been more gentle than his touch on Susy's arm.
Fortunately her hurts were surface burns, and no vital part had been
touched by the flame. But Dick's were more severe, and the doctor took
infinite pains in bandaging the scarred hands and wrists.
"You're a brave lad," he said, when the pain was eased, and the last
strip of lint put on.
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