Mary filled it, and, her hand shaking from her inward excitement, let

the alcohol overflow on the tray and on the kettle frame. She asked

for a match and Gordon gave her one.

Then, nobody knew how it happened! The flames seemed to sweep up in a

blue sheet toward the lace frills in the front of Mary's gown. It

leaped toward her face. Constance screamed. Then Roger reached her,

and she was in his arms, her face crushed against the thickness of his

coat, his hands snatching at her frills.

It was over in a moment. The flames were out. Very gently, he loosed

his arms. She lay against his shoulder white and still. Her face was

untouched, but across her throat, which the low collar had left

exposed, was a hot red mark. And a little lock of hair was singed at

one side, her frills were in ruins.

He put her into a chair, and they gathered around her--a solicitous

group. Porter knelt beside her. "Mary, Mary," he kept saying, and she

smiled weakly, as his voice broke on "Contrary Mary."

Gordon had saved the table from destruction. But the flame had caught

the lilies, crisping them, and leaving them black. Constance was

shaken by the shock, and Aunt Frances kept asking wildly, "How did it

happen?"

"I spilled the alcohol when I filled it," Mary said. "It was a silly

thing to do--if I had had on one of my thinner gowns----" She

shuddered and stopped.

"I shall send you an electric outfit to-morrow," Porter announced.

"Don't fool with that thing again, Mary."

Roger stood behind her chair, with his arms folded on the top and said

nothing. There was really nothing for him to say, but there were many

things to think. He had saved that dear face from flame or flaw, the

dear eyes had been hidden against his shoulder--his fingers smarted

where he had clutched at her burning frills.

Porter Bigelow might take possession of her now, he might give her

electric outfits, he might call her by her first name, but it had not

been Porter who had saved her from the flames; it had not been Porter

who had held her in his arms.




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024