It is evidently a desperate resolve. Even as she says it, she makes a last drawback, but Susan clings to her hand, and pulls her forward, and together the girls run down the lane to the Rectory gate and into it, Ella all the time holding Susan tightly, as if for protection.
This was how it happened that Ella first left the shelter of the Cottage. She was most kindly received by the Rector, who spared a moment from his precious books to welcome her—and even agreeably by Aunt Jemima. Ella had gone through the ordeal of these two introductions shyly but quietly. She had, however, been a little startled at finding that, added to the Barrys congregated on the lawn (a goodly number in themselves), there was a strange gentleman. Crosby struck her at first sight as being formidable—an idea that, if the young Barrys had known it, would have sent them into hysterics of mirth.
Crosby had strolled down early in the afternoon, and now Wyndham, standing gazing amongst the shrubberies, can see him turn from Susan to say something or other to Ella.
Wyndham, in his voluntary confinement, feels a sharp pang clutch at his breast. He stands still, as if unable to go on, watching the little pantomime.
Tommy is speaking now. The child’s voice rings clear and low.
‘I’ll tell you a story.’ He has put up a little fat hand, and is pinching Ella’s cheek. Ella has caught the little hand, and is kissing it. How pretty!
‘Silence!’ cries Crosby gaily. ‘Tommy is going to tell Miss Moore a story.’
There seems something significant to Wyndham in his tone. Why should he demand silence in that imperative manner, just because Miss Moore wishes a story to be told to her? He hesitates no longer. He comes quickly forward and up to the group.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
‘To feel every prompting of pleasure,