Quentin's notice at the first moment ofhis entering the room. And for the second time a softened feeling, halfof pity, half almost of tenderness, passed through her towards her youngsister. "Ella," she went on, and Ella came forward. "You see, papa,"Madelene added, "_this_ is why I wanted to see you at once. Ella hasarrived--sooner than we expected." She tried to speak lightly, butColonel St Quentin knew her too well not to detect her nervousness. Heknew, too, that this sudden move on Ella's part could not but beannoying and disappointing to his elder daughters, who had been makingall sorts of plans and arrangements for her joining them at the timealready fixed upon.
"Ella!" he exclaimed. Then he held out his hand, and, drawing hertowards him, kissed her quickly on the forehead. "Is there anything thematter with your Aunt Phillis? You have grown a good deal since lastyear."
For he had seen Ella from time to time, though but hurriedly.
The remark was not a happy one.
"I don't think I have grown at all for two years," she said. "I havecertainly stopped growing now."
Her tone was not conciliating. Colonel St Quentin slightly raised hiseyebrows.
"I beg your pardon, my dear," he said. "I had forgotten your matureage. And to what then are we indebted for this unexpected pleasure?" hewent on.
Madelene looked distressed. This was exactly the tone she most dreadedto hear her father take. He did not mean to hurt Ella, up to now indeedhe had no reason to feel displeased with her. For all he knew she hadbeen driven away from Mrs Robertson's by an outbreak of smallpox, or bythe house having been burnt down! And Madelene and Ermine wereaccustomed to this half-satirical, bantering manner of his, and the goodunderstanding between the three was complete, more perfect indeed thanis often the case between father and daughters. For there was anelement of something nearly allied to _gratitude_ in Colonel StQuentin's affection for his elder daughters, which even on the parent'sside, between generous natures is quite compatible with the finestdevelopment of the normal paternal and filial relations.
"It was nothing wrong--that is to say no illness or anything of thatkind," Madelene hastily interposed, "but Ella thought it better to comeaway. Mr Burton, the old gentleman you know, papa, that MrsRobertson--"
"Yes, yes, that Mrs Robertson is going to marry. Well, what abouthim?" he interrupted. Colonel St Quentin was much more vivacious thanhis eldest child.
"He seems to have been getting rather jealous, exacting, I don't knowwhat to call it--annoyed at Ella's sharing her aunt's attention withhim, I suppose. Is not that it, Ella? And he has shown it in adisagreeable, ill-bred way, it seems," said Madelene.
"He was actually rude, insulting," said Ella. "He seemed to think I wasnothing and nobody, quite forgetting I was your daughter, and--"
"Insufferable, purse-proud old ruffian he must be," interjected herfather.
Ella's eyes danced.
"Yes, papa--that's just what it is," she said, "He could not have beenless--respectful," she added with a little hesitation, "if I had reallybeen a penniless pauper, instead of having a family and home of my own."
Colonel St Quentin glanced at Madelene. He was on the point ofspeaking, but a sign from her, imperceptible to Ella, restrained him.He contented himself with a sigh. Ella imagined it to be one ofsympathy with her wrongs, and her spirits rose--"penniless pauper," hadbeen very telling, she said to herself.
"And so--and so, you and your aunt thought it best for you to comeaway," he said. "Well, well, it is a pity things could not have gone onsmoothly a little longer, considering how many years you have been withher and how good she has always shown herself to you. In any case shesurely might have written or telegraphed--I certainly think she mighthave considered us a _little_ as well as old Burton. Of course she senta servant with you."
"No, no," said Ella, hesitatingly. "I came alone."
Colonel St Quentin's face darkened.
"She let you--a child like you, travel here alone!" he exclaimed. "Uponmy word, Madelene--you knew this?" he added, turning to her.
Madelene looked very uneasy.
"Papa," she said, "you don't quite understand. Mrs Robertson is not somuch to blame as you think. Ella--" and she looked at her sister, "Tellpapa yourself. It is no use concealing anything. Mrs Robertson willof course be writing herself, and then--"
"I have no wish to conceal anything," said Ella, haughtily. "I neverdreamt of such a thing. Yes, what Madelene says is quite true, papa.Aunt Phillis did not send me away. She did not know of my leaving. Shewill only have heard it by a telegram I sent her from Weevilscoombe."
"Do you mean to say," said Colonel St Quentin slowly, "that you leftyour aunt's house without her sanction or even knowledge, as well aswithout writing to consult me--in short, that you ran away?"
"Something very like it," said Ella defiantly. Madelene lookedgrievously distressed.
"Oh, Ella," she said, "do not speak like that. She does not mean itreally, papa--she has explained more about it to me. Ella, tell papayou are sorry if you have vexed him. It was natural for her to come tous, papa--even if she has acted hastily."
But Ella would say nothing. She stood there proudly obstinate, and MissSt Quentin's appeal in her favour fell on unheeding ears. One glance ather, and her father turned away and began walking up and down the roomin a way which as Madelene well knew betokened extreme irritation.
"Little _something_," she heard him murmur, and she hoped Ella did notsuspect that the half inaudible word was "fool"--"nothing, noconjunction of things could have been more annoying."
Then he stopped short and stood facing his youngest daughter.
"Ella," he said quietly, but there was something in his tone which madethe girl inwardly tremble a little in spite of her determination, "youhave acted very wrongly. You have placed me in a most disagreeableposition--obliging me to apologise for your rudeness to your aunt, towhom already I was under heavy obligations for you," here Ella glancedup in surprise, and seemed as if about to speak, but her father wouldnot listen, "and you have certainly given this Mr Burton a victory.The more vulgar he is, if he really is vulgar--I don't know that I feelinclined to take your word for it--the more he will enjoy it." Ellacompressed her lips tightly. "And," Colonel St Quentin went on, hishard tone softening as he glanced at Madelene, "there are other reasonswhy I _extremely_ regret the way you have chosen to behave. You haveshown no sort of consideration for our--for your sisters' convenience."
Ella started up. This time she would be heard.
"That part of it I cannot in the least understand," she said. "It seemsextraordinary to talk of _inconveniencing_ one's own nearest relationsby coming home when--when one had nowhere else to go," and her voicefaltered a very little.
Her father looked at her with a sort of expression as if he werementally taking her measure.
"Ah, well," he said, "I did not say I expected you fully to understand.You have shown yourself too childish. But you are not too childish tounderstand that when one does a distinctly wrong thing one may expectundesirable results in more directions than one. And this--theinconvenience to your sisters _I_ lay stress upon, and I shall expectyou to remember this. What room are you intending Ella to have?" hewent on, turning rather abruptly to Madelene. "Those you meant for herof course are not ready."
"No," Miss St Quentin replied. "They are not yet begun, and what shouldbe done will take some weeks. I wanted them to be so nice," she saidregretfully.
"I know you did," said her father, and the sympathy in his tone madeElla unreasonably angry.
"In the meantime," Madelene continued, "I was thinking of giving Ellaone of the rooms in the north wing. Indeed they are the only--"
"No," said Colonel St Quentin, "that will not do. We may need thoserooms for visitors any day. It is much better for her to have thenursery on the south side. You can easily have what additionalfurniture is needed moved in, and, as it is Ella's own doing, she cannotobject to less comfortable quarters than you had intended for her for at
ime."
Ella reared her little head, but said nothing.
"You must be tired," said Madelene, glad to suggest any change, "and Iam sure you would like to take your hat and jacket off. Come with me tomy room; and I will see about getting the nursery ready, papa."
Ella's head rose, if possible, still higher as she turned to leave theroom. Madelene was leading the way, but as they got to the door herfather called her back.
"I don't want to give her a room with a north