“You are going?” said Ella dreamily.
“Yes,” he said almost angrily, “of course! Do you take me to be utterly devoid of feeling? But you will write, and I will be the bearer.”
“Write!” said Ella, with a wild hysterical sob—“write!”
“Yes. Surely you will do that,” he said anxiously.
“Heaven help me!” cried Ella. “I must go.”
“You will go?” he said excitedly.
“Yes,” she said, with a strange dreamy look; “it is my fate. I must go.”
“Ella—Miss Bedford—will you trust me?” said Max in an earnest voice. “Leave matters to me, and I will arrange all. But Mrs Marter will object to your leaving.”
“I must go,” said Ella, who seemed to be speaking as if under some strange influence.
“You will go in spite of her wishes?” said Max.