e do? Don't stop to put on your petticoat. We'll all be burned to
death. Fire! fire! fire! fire!

"Yes, there is! I don't know where! It's all over--our room's all in a
blaze, and Dora won't come out till she gets her dress on. Mr. Little,
you _shan't_ go in--I'll hold you--you'll be killed just to save that
chit of a girl, when--I--I--He's gone--rushed right into the flames. Oh,
my house! my furniture! all my earnings! Can't anything be done? Fire!
fire! fire! Call the fire-engines! ring the dinner-bell! Be quiet! How
can I be quiet? Yes, it is all in flames. I saw them myself! Where's my
silver spoons? Oh, where's my teeth, and my silver soup-ladle? Let me
be! I'm going out in the street before it's too late! Oh, Mr. Grayson!
have you got water? have you found the place? are they bringing water?

"Did you say the fire was out? Was that you that spoke, Mr. Little? I
thought you were burned up, sure; and there's Dora, too. How did they
get it out? My clothes-closet was on fire, and the room, too! We would
have been smothered in five minutes more if we hadn't waked up! But it's
all out now, and no damage done, but my dresses destroyed and the carpet
spoiled. Thank the Lord, if that's the worst! But it _ain't_ the worst.
Dora, come along this minute to my room. I don't care if it is cold, and
wet, and full of smoke. Don't you see--don't you see I'm in my
night-clothes? I never thought of it before. I'm ruined, ruined
completely! Go to bed, gentlemen; get out of the way as quick as you can
Dora, shut the door. Hand me that candle; I want to look at myself in
the glass. To think that all those gentlemen should have seen me in this
fix! I'd rather have perished in the flames. It's the very first night
I've worn these flannel night-caps, and to be seen in 'em! Good
gracious! how old I do look! Not a spear of hair on my head scarcely,
and this red nightgown and old petticoat on, and my teeth in the
tumbler, and the paint all washed off my face, and scarred besides! It's
no use! I never, never can again make any of _those_ men believe that
I'm only twenty-five, and I felt so sure of some of them.

"Oh, Dora Adams! _you_ needn't look pale; you've lost nothing. I'll
warrant Mr. Little thought you never looked so pretty as in that ruffled
gown, and your hair all down over your shoulders. He says you were
fainting from the smoke when he dragged you out. You must be a little
fool to be afraid to come out looking _that_ way. They sa