Several times over there was a faint whisper breathed into Mrs Brandon’s ear that the sufferer had much to say; but invariably Mrs Brandon closed those pale lips with a kiss.
“Wrong or right, my poor child,” she said sadly, “rest in peace, for this is your home.”
But there was an air of trouble and appeal in Ella’s face that would not be gainsayed; and one night Mrs Brandon was seated by her side, when her lips parted to faintly whisper:
“If I am to go, let me know that you all believe in me.”
As she spoke, her trembling little hand drew a large envelope from beneath her pillow—a crumpled and bruised envelope.
“Do you wish me to read this?” said Mrs Brandon tenderly.
Ella’s lips formed the word “Yes.”