knowEllie."
"Have they sent you for me? Do they want me to go home?" she exclaimed."For I--I had reason for what I did--I am not a child. I cannotconsent to go back--I--"
"No, no, of course not. How could you wish to go back, where I can seeand feel you have been so misunderstood and unhappy? Oh, no, dear, youmay make your mind quite easy on that score. You don't think your poorauntie would have come on such an errand--to persuade you to go back toprison again, for prison indeed it must have been. Oh, no, evenMadelene saw that--there was no question of your returning there."
No question of her returning there! She had cut the bonds then only tooeffectually--a sharp, yet chill pain seemed for an instant to take thegirl's breath away.
"They don't want me back again, then?" she said. And then withoutgiving her aunt time to speak, she answered her question herself. "No,of course not--how could they? I heard it with my own ears; they wantedto be rid of me."
But the last few words were too low for her aunt to catch.
"How could they indeed, knowing how unhappy they had made you, mydarling?" said Mrs Burton. "No, no, _I_ would never have come on suchan errand!"
Ella looked up.
"Then did they not send you? How did you know? I don't understand,"she said in a dull, bewildered way. "I am tired, I think, aunty, andthe not expecting to see you, you know. Please tell me all about it; Iwill sit here quietly and listen."
"My darling," Mrs Burton repeated, possessing herself of Ella's hand asshe spoke. It lay passive in her grasp for a minute or two, but beforelong the girl managed to draw it away.
"Tell me, aunt, please," she repeated. "I have got out of those pettingsort of ways, I suppose," she said to herself. "I wish aunt Philliswasn't quite so caressing."
CHAPTER NINETEEN.
"A MARRIAGE IS ARRANGED."
This was what Mrs Burton had to tell. On the evening her niece hadleft Coombesthorpe she had been startled by a telegram from Madelene,inquiring if Ella were with her, to which of course she was obliged toreply in the negative.
"I was not so _very_ frightened as I would have been had I not that verymorning got your letter asking me to invite you for a visit.Fortunately Mr Burton was out when the telegram came," she went on, "soI did not need to tell him about it--it is just as well--I don't thinkhe need hear more than that you are coming on a visit--oh, but I amrunning on without explaining," seeing Ella raise her eyebrows with alook of surprise. "I must tell you that all the next day and the dayafter, I kept thinking you would walk in, my dear, and when you did notcome and there was no letter I began to be really frightened. I wasjust making up my mind to tell Mr Burton all about it and start forCoombesthorpe when last night to my astonishment there came a message--"
"A telegram?" Ella interrupted.
"No, neither a telegram nor a letter. A message brought by a messengerfrom your sister Madelene," said Mrs Burton, with a little confusion ofmanner which did not escape Ella's sharp eyes, "as she could not comeherself--"
"And why could she not come herself? If she had really cared--"interrupted Ella with a little choke in her voice.
"And your father so ill! You forget, Ella."
"Papa ill--he was much better?" Ella exclaimed with a little start.
"But he had a sort of attack the evening you left. Did you not know?Oh, no of course, how could you. He had had a good deal to agitate himthat day, it appears, and at first they were very much alarmed, but itwas more nervousness than anything else, and he is better now, but hewon't hear of Madelene leaving him. She must have had rather a time ofit, I fancy--what with the fright about you and all. But I dare say itwill do her no harm to be shaken out of her apathy a little."
Ella's face had grown very grave. Poor Madelene! Had she beenfrightened about her--Ella--then, and Ermine away?
"Was it about my--about me that papa was upset, do you think, aunt?" sheasked.
"Not only that. Si--the--I understood that Madelene made the best of itto the Colonel," said Mrs Burton, "took the blame upon herself of somemisunderstanding. You will tell me all about it of course. The leastMadelene could do _was_ to blame herself, I should say! And now,darling, that I have explained things, supposing you get ready? I haveseen Mrs Ward and settled everything with her."
"But I don't understand in the least," said Ella, "you haven't explainedanything, aunt Phillis. What did Madelene's messenger say to you? Hadshe not seen Fraulein Braune? Do you not know that I am only waitinghere for their consent--a nominal form that Mrs Ward insists on--to mygoing to Germany as--as a sort of governess?"
Mrs Burton gave a gasp. Yes--she knew it all, but she had been warnedto act with the greatest caution and tact and to avoid as much aspossible all irritating discussion. And just as she was flatteringherself that she had done so, and managed it all so beautifully, hereElla faces round upon her, and nothing has been done or settled at all!
"My dearest child," she exclaimed, "you cannot seriously think such astep would be allowed? Of course Madelene has seen Fraulein Braune andhad a long talk with her. But it _can't_ be--your father would not hearof it. And think of the scandal!"
"I can't help that," said Ella quickly. "Of course people would talk ofit--the daughter of a very rich man like my father, going out as agoverness, would naturally make people talk. But I will not go back,and so as I won't do what they wish I do not ask for any money--not eventhe money that when I am of age would be legally mine. I am quitewilling to work for myself. I told Madelene, at least I wrote it, thatI would give up my share, but I would not stay at home."
"You wrote that to Madelene about giving up your share," repeated MrsBurton with a curious expression in her face, an expression which Elladid not understand.
"Of course I did. What is money without affection?" said Ella, rearingher little head superbly.
Mrs Burton hesitated. They were treading on delicate ground, ground onwhich she herself had been specially warned to tread with the greatestcaution, and she grew nervous.
"My dearest child," she began after a moment's silence. "I have notsaid that your father insists on your returning to Coombesthorpe, eventhough he refuses his consent to your going to Germany. On the contraryhe does not want you to go back to them. He seems to think it betternot."
"And Madelene?" asked Ella sharply. "What does _she_ wish?"
"Personally, as far as I could make out, she was most anxious for you togo back. She was suffering terribly, so--that may have beenexaggerated--at not being able to come herself to you, but she gave into your father's decision."
"And what was that?"
"That you should come back to me, darling. It was what you wishedyourself when you wrote last week," said Mrs Burton anxiously.
"Yes, but things have changed since then. I don't want any temporaryplan. I want to--to be independent for good. I want _never_ to returnthere, to Coombesthorpe," said Ella, almost fiercely.
Mrs Burton groaned. What was she to do or say? She had undertaken themission cheerfully and hopefully, confident in Ella's affection forherself and, judging naturally enough by the letter she had so recentlyreceived, without any misgiving but that her niece would be ready andglad to return to her care, once she was assured of a welcome.
"It will be all right, you will see," she had said to Miss St Quentin's"messenger;" "she would have come straight to me, I know, but for herfears that Mr Burton might not be willing to receive her. And that Ican satisfy her about."
But Ella's unexpected attitude set her quite at fault. She put her handin her pocket to draw out her handkerchief, for she really felt as ifshe were going to cry, and with a sudden exclamation of relief she drewit out again, with not her handkerchief but a letter. It was addressedto Ella.
"I am forgetting this," said Mrs Burton, "perhaps it may have moreeffect than my words."
The writing was Madelene's. A slight flush rose to Ella's pale face asshe saw it, and without speaking she opened the envelope.
"My dear Ella," the letter began,--
"I have been completely miserable about you. I would have set off at once in search of you, had it been possible to leave papa. Thanks, to" and here some word was erased, "inquiries I was able to make without raising any gossip, I satisfied myself that you were in safe hands, and Fraulein Braune has now kindly come to see me herself. We _cannot_ consent to your going to Germany; all I can do at present is to beg you to go to Mrs Burton's in the meantime. I cannot tell you how unhappy I am that you should have overheard and somehow so terribly
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