The Third Miss St Quentin

don't know I'm sure," she replied. "It does not seem as if theycared for her. I do not know much of the private relations of thefamily--Ella is not an indiscreet girl and has not told me more than wasnecessary. But I do not think they can care for her, and perhaps theywill let her go as a sort of punishment."

  "Ah, well, we shall see," said Mrs Ward. Her position had brought herin contact with many curious phases of family life.

  The day dragged on slowly for Ella. She had nothing to do and for agreat part of the time no one to speak to, for of the dozen or sogovernesses, young or old, at present domiciled in the "Home," aproportion was engaged as daily teachers and the rest were busy runningabout to see or be seen with a view to finding situations. It was nottill the afternoon that Ella, on re-entering the neat chilly-lookingdrawing-room found a temporary companion. This was a girl of two orthree-and-twenty, whose pleasant, sensible face had already struck Ellaagreeably. She was knitting busily, but looked up with a smile when theyoung stranger appeared.

  "You must be rather dull, here," she said. "It is all very well whenone is busy, but I could not stand it for long if I were not so. It isweeks since I have had a quiet, lazy afternoon."

  "Then have you been here long?" Ella inquired. "Some months. I wasfortunate in getting a daily engagement which has enabled me to save alittle. So now I am going to Switzerland. I have never had a chance ofspeaking French, but I could not have gone without any money, you see."

  "Won't you get a salary then?" said Ella.

  The girl shook her head.

  "Not the first year, and I'm not sure that I shall want to stay asecond. A friend of mine has a girls' school, and if I can speak Frenchwell she may be able to find work for me with her."

  "But should you like that as well as being abroad?" said Ella, openingher eyes. "I think Switzerland is so charming. I've been there a gooddeal."

  "Ah, yes--travelling or visiting there is charming no doubt. But to bea governess is very different. One has to put up with a good deal insuch cases, but of course when it is a question of acquiring thelanguage, one doesn't mind anything, does one?"

  "I can't say," replied Ella rather loftily. "I can speak French quitewell. I don't care about going abroad on that account."

  She rather resented the "rowing in the same boat" tone of her newacquaintance.

  "Oh, I thought some one said you were going to Germany--to Wahlbrunn, Iknow about the place--_au pair_, as they say."

  "Perhaps I am," said Ella dryly. Her companion glanced at her halfcuriously. She could not quite "make her out."

  "I wonder you go abroad if you don't care about the language," she said."You'll have to rough it you may be sure, and I don't fancy you'll likethat."

  "I dare say not, but that part of it can't be helped," said Ella smilinga little. "But it won't be worse for me than for others."

  "I don't know that," the girl replied. "You look as if you had had anice home and all that kind of thing. I've never had a home; I was anorphan as a baby--that makes a difference."

  "My mother died when I was three years old--_that_ makes a difference,"said Ella. Her companion nodded her head as if to say she "understood,"and a picture of a harsh and unloving stepmother turning this prettyyoung creature out of her home crossed her mind's eye. But she was toodelicate-minded to ask any questions, and the conversation drifted offto less personal subjects. The girl was leaving England the next day;Ella never saw her again, but her words had left their impression. Itwas with a little shiver that lying awake in the middle of the night sherecalled them. "Roughing it," what might that not mean? Rough wordsand looks and tones, as well as more practical physical discomfort--nobody to care about her, whether she were happy or miserable--nobody tolove her--"and I have so longed to be loved," thought Ella. "But exceptpoor aunty, and--yes, I believe my godmother does love me, or _did_, shewill probably give me up in disgust now--except those two I hardly thinkany one _has_ ever really loved me. Oh, Madelene, if you had only beena _little_ loving, I would have turned to you now and--perhaps if I hadbeen able to confide in you I would not have been so easily taken in by_him_, by his manner, which meant nothing when I thought it meanteverything. For Madelene was wise--she did warn me; if only she hadcared for me a little. But it is too late now. Such as it was, it_was_ my home, but I have thrown it away. What would that poor girlthink if she could see it? Fancy her never having had any home--"

  Ella's pillow was wet with tears the next morning when she woke. Shedreaded and yet hoped for a letter--but there was none. Mrs Wardnoticed her anxious face.

  "There has hardly been time for an answer from Fraulein Braune," shesaid kindly, though in her heart not sorry that the girl was beginningto realise the full bearing of her rash step. "You would be the betterfor a little air, I think. Would you not like to go out?"

  Ella glanced down the long breakfast-table.

  "Is there any one who could go with me, do you think?" she askedtimidly. Mrs Ward looked up rather sharply.

  "Are you afraid of going out alone?" she said. "You must get used toit, my dear. You will never get on if you are so dependent."

  "I am not _afraid_," replied Ella, growing very red as she spoke. "Butit is just that I have never had to go out alone."

  "Ah, well--perhaps I can get some one to go with you for once. But youknow we are all very busy people here."

  She spoke to one of the elder ladies, who undertook to accompany Ella.For Mrs Ward felt it right to take special care of the girl in herpeculiar position. Yet she knew that it was well for her to have thepractical side of the future she had chosen brought home to her. "Ifher people really care for her," thought Mrs Ward, "they can easily gether to go home again. She is tiring of it already."

  But she scarcely understood the character she had to deal with.

  Ella went out with Miss Lister, and though the walk was only to a musicshop where her companion had to choose a large selection of "pieces" forher pupils, and though the day was so cold and gloomy as to suggestimpending fog, the mere fact of being out of doors and walking quicklyraised her impressionable spirits again. She was in a decidedly lessconciliatory mood than before going out, and it was with a heightenedcolour and resolutely compressed lips that she received theparlour-maid's announcement that a lady had come to see her, and waswaiting in the drawing-room.

  "Madelene, no doubt," thought Ella with a rush of curiously mingledfeeling, among which considerably to her own surprise she was consciousthat there vibrated a thrill of something very like delight.

  "Do I care for her, after all?" she thought. But before she had time toanswer the question, other sensations followed. Madelene had come tourge her return, Madelene who knew, or at least suspected the root ofher bitterest suffering; Madelene who had planned and schemed for Ermineregardless of the poor little half-sister! Ella hardened her heart.

  "No," she thought, "I will not go home. No. She may beg and pray me todo so, I will not. Not at least for a long, long time, till I have gotaccustomed to it all--to Ermine and Philip--or at least till I havelearnt to hide what I feel. And when they see how firm I am they willhave to give in and let me go to that German place. I don't care whatit is or how rough it is if only I can get away."

  She looked and felt cool and determined enough, as, after a moment'spause outside the drawing-room door, she turned the handle and entered.Only the two bright red spots on her cheeks betrayed any inwarddisturbance.

  "Madelene," she began at once, before her eyes had taken in any detailsof the figure that rose from the sofa at the sound of the door opening.But in an instant she stopped, the words on her lips died away as a keendart of disappointment sped through her.

  "No, no, my darling, not Madelene. Only your poor old auntie," and in amoment she was enfolded in Mrs Burton's embrace. "Oh, Ella, my dear, Ihave been so miserable about you ever since Sir--ever since your sistersent to me! Oh, my child, you see how it has ended. Why did you leaveme as you did? All might have been happy
and peaceful. Mr Burton'sheart is really such a kind one--it is only manner, my dear. You willget to see it is only manner, I can assure you--"

  But Ella calmly disengaged herself from Mrs Burton, with anunreasonable feeling of irritation and impatience.

  "I thought it was Madelene," she said. "I thought--"

  "You were nervous about meeting her, my darling. Of course it was onlynatural. She has never understood you--that is clear. But it is allgoing to be happy now; you will see--all's well that ends well, you