e alarmed--I only want
to hear a little more about the affair."

Tochatti shot a quick look at him from her beady black eyes; and Anstice
was momentarily puzzled by her curious expression. She looked almost as
though she resented his presence--and yet she should have welcomed him,
seeing that he was there to do his best for the child she adored. But as
she moved to the side of the bed, and took Cherry's unhurt hand in her
own brown fingers with a touch of almost maternal tenderness, he told
himself impatiently that he was fanciful; and turned to Mrs. Carstairs
with a resolute movement.

"Will you come into my room, Dr. Anstice?" Chloe's spacious bedroom led
out of her little daughter's pink and white nest; and as Anstice
followed her she pulled the door to with a nervous action curiously
unlike herself.

"Dr. Anstice, will she die?" Her lips were ashy, and in her white face
only the sapphire eyes seemed alive. "If she dies, I will never forgive
Tochatti--never!"

"Tochatti?" Anstice was surprised. "Was she to blame for this?"

"Not altogether." Chloe could be just, it seemed, even in the midst of
her sorrow. "I will tell you what happened. As perhaps you know, Cherry
was to have been one of Iris Wayne's bridesmaids, and at her own request
Tochatti had made her dress, a flimsy little thing all muslin and lace.
She had spent days over it--she embroiders wonderfully, and when it was
done it was perfectly exquisite. She finished it last evening, and
Cherry insisted on a dress rehearsal. She was to pay me a surprise visit
in the drawing-room just before dinner, and it seems that when she was
quite ready Tochatti slipped downstairs to find Hagyard and admit him to
a private view, leaving Cherry alone in the room--against all
rules--with two candles burning on the dressing-table."

She paused.

"I think I understand," said Anstice quietly. "Cherry took up a candle
to get a better view of her pretty frock, and----"

"Not exactly," Chloe interrupted him. "She leaned forward, it seems, in
order to look at herself more closely in the glass--you know children
are fond of seeing themselves in pretty clothes--and, as you might
imagine, she leaned too close to the candle and her sleeve caught fire."

"She cried out?"

"Yes--luckily we all heard her." Through all her marble pallor Chloe
flushed at the remembrance of that poignant moment. "We rushed in and
found her shrieking, and Tochatti beat out the flames with her hands.