She had received the following communication from Mrs. Darrell:—
“Hazlewood, April 3rd, 1855.
“Madam,—As it would of course be very improper for a young lady of your age to travel alone, I have provided against that contingency.
“My friend Mr. Monckton has kindly promised to meet you in the first-class waiting-room at the Great Western Station, at three o’clock on Monday afternoon. He will drive you here on his way home.
“I am, Madam,
“Yours faithfully,
“Ellen Darrell.”
Eliza Picirillo worked harder upon a Monday than on any other day in the week. She left the Pilasters immediately after an early breakfast, to go upon a wearisome round amongst her pupils. Richard was in the thick of the preparations for a new piece, so poor Eleanor was obliged to go alone to the station, to meet the stranger who had been appointed as her escort to Hazlewood.
She quite broke down when the time came for bidding farewell to her old friend. She clung about the Signora, weeping unrestrainedly for the first time.
“I can’t bear to go away from you,” she sobbed piteously; “I can’t bear to say good-bye.”
“But, my love,” the music-mistress answered, tenderly, “if you don’t really wish to go——”
“No, no, it isn’t that. I feel that I must go—that——”