Mrs.Boyce had disappeared after breakfast, and was probably helping her husband to dress.
In a minute or so Marcella ran downstairs again, bearing various medicaments.

She sped to the Stone Parlour, her cheek and eye glowing.
"Let me do it for you." "If you please," said Wharton, meekly.
She did her best, but she was not skilful with her fingers, and this close contact with him somehow excited her.
"There," she said, laughing and releasing him.

"Of course, if I were a work-girl I should have done it better.

They are not going to be very bad, I think." "What, the burns?
Oh, no! They will have recovered, I am afraid, long before your dress." "Oh, my dress! yes, it is deplorable.

I will go and change it." She turned to go, but she lingered instead, and said with an odd, introductory laugh: "I believe you saved my life!" "Well, I am glad I was here.