At that moment they heard someone hurrying upstairs. As the doctor came into the room they stood aside. He examined the patient, touching her gently, then he took dressings from his bag. He went to work with great care and deftness, and Joan was filled with admiration as she watched him. She had no idea who he was; he was not the Ogdens' doctor, this was a younger man altogether. Then into her mind flashed the thought of Richard Benson. She wondered why she had laughed at Richard when he had talked of becoming a doctor. Was it because he was so conceited? But surely it was better to be conceited than inadequate! The doctor was unconscious of her scrutiny; from time to time he spoke to Elizabeth, issuing short, peremptory orders. Elizabeth stood beside him, capable and quiet, and Joan felt proud of her because even in this extremity she managed somehow to look tidy. "I think I've done all that I can, for the moment," he said. "I'll come again later on." Elizabeth nodded, her mouth was drawn down at the corners and her arms hung limply at her sides. Something in her face attracted the doctor's attention and his glance fell to her hands. "Let me look at your hands," he said. "It's nothing," Elizabeth assured him, but her voice sounded far away. "I'm afraid I disagree with you; your hands are badly burnt, you must let me dress them." He turned to the dressings on the table. She held out her hands obediently, and Joan noticed for the first time that they were injured. The realization that Elizabeth was hurt overwhelmed her; she forgot the woman on the bed, forgot everything but the burnt hands. With a great effort she pulled herself together, forcing herself to hold the dressings, watching with barely concealed apprehension, lest the doctor should inflict pain. She had thought him so deft a few minutes ago, yet now he seemed indescribably clumsy. But if he did hurt it was not reflected on Elizabeth's face; her lips tightened a little, that was all. "Anywhere else?" the doctor demanded. "Nowhere else," Elizabeth assured him. "I think my hands must have got burnt when I wrapped my coat round her." The doctor stared. "It's a mystery to me," he said, "how you managed to do all you did with a pair of hands like that." "I didn't feel them so much at first," she told him. The doctor called Mrs. Jenkins and gave her a few instructions; then he hurried Elizabeth downstairs into the little shop, leaving her there while he went to find a cab. Joan stood silently beside her; neither of them spoke until the fly arrived, then Joan said: "I shall come home with you, Elizabeth." "I'll send in two nurses," said the doctor. "Your friend here will want help too." Joan gave him Elizabeth's address. 3