Page 144 of The Sisters of Sea View
The surgeon approached.
“Come, come, why all this commotion over a bloodied lip? Compared to the major’s wounds, this is trivial. Unless ... have you lost a tooth? I am not a dentist, you know.”
“No, I d-don’t think so.” Viola ran a tentative tongue over her teeth, then sent Sarah a subtle nod of permission.
Sarah nodded back and explained, “My sister was born with a cleft lip, so...”
“A harelip?”
“A cleft,” Sarah corrected. “She has undergone several surgeries and fears it may have split back open.”
“Ah, forgive me. Now I see the reason for concern. Let me take a closer look.”
Reluctantly, Viola lowered the handkerchief.
Dr. Bird frowned at the loitering men. “The rest of you, except her sisters, please wait in another room.”
When they had gone, he palpated her lip, then carefully lifted it to peer underneath.
“Your teeth cut the inside of your mouth. That is what’s bleeding. The scar is intact.”
Viola let out a ragged breath, and Emily squeezed her hand.
“Thank God,” Sarah murmured.
“I don’t think stitches will be necessary. It will heal on its own in time.”
“That’s a relief,” Viola murmured.
“What would really help is getting some ice on it to keep the swelling down and reduce the strain on the scar.”
Sarah stepped to the adjoining room and asked the men, “Have you any ice?”
“No, dash it,” the major replied. “Perhaps one of the hotels?”
———
Emily stood. “We have some in our cellar. I’ll go.” She hurried toward the door. Mrs. Besley planned to make ice cream with it, but this was more important.
Colin followed her. “Let me. I am an excellent runner.”
“Thank you, but you don’t know your way around the house. I will be as fast as I can.” The truth was, Emily couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.
She ran across the drive and started up the sloped lawn toward Sea View. Running headlong was not exactly ladylike, but she did not care.
She hurried down the basement stairs and pushed through the back door, running past the kitchen toward the cellar door.
Mrs. Besley emerged. “And just what are you doing, young lady, running through here like a wild animal?”
“Getting ice.”
“No, you are not!” she thundered. “That is to make ices for the guests!”
“It’s for Viola. She was hit in the mouth at the cricket.”
“Oh.” The woman’s eyes widened. “Then of course. Let’s hurry.”
Mrs. Besley flew into action, and soon a quantity of ice had been chipped from the block and secured in a tin.
