A quick glance of suspicion shot from Mary's blue eyes. Could it be possible that this forlorn scrubwoman would carry her hostility to her lover to the same point of ungracious refusal to witness the ceremony? It was nonsense, of course. Ella would feel out of place in the minister's parlor, that was all. She wouldn't insist.
“All right, Ella; you can receive us here with ceremony. You'll be our maid, butler, my father, my mother and my friends!”
There was a moment's silence and still no move on Ella's part to go. The girl felt her single eye again fixed on her in mysterious, wistful gaze. She would send her away if it were possible without hurting her feelings.
Mary lifted her eyes suddenly, and Ella stirred awkwardly and smiled.
“I hope you are very happy, meine liebe—ja?”
“I couldn't be happier if I were in Heaven,” was the quick answer.
“I'm so glad——”
Again an awkward pause.
“I was once young and pretty like you, meine liebe,” she began dreamily, “—slim and straight and jolly—always laughing.”
Mary held her breath in eager expectancy. Ella was going to lift the veil from the mystery of her life, stirred by memories which the coming wedding had evoked.