Rose-Marie's voice was very soft, as she spoke again.
"I'm glad that you chose the picture you did," she said, "the picture of the Christ Child and His Mother!"
Ella wadded a heavy dress into the suit-case.
"I don't hold much with religious pictures," she said, without looking up; "religion never did much fer me! I only got it 'cause th' Baby had hair like Lily's hair!"
Rose-Marie crouched down, suddenly, upon the floor beside the girl. She laid her hand upon the suit-case.
"Where are you going, Ella?" she asked abruptly. "Where are you going—and when will you be back?"
Ella's lips drew up into the semblance of a smile—a very bitter one—as she answered.
"It's none of yer business where I'm goin'," she said, "an' I may not ever come back—see?"
Rose-Marie caught her breath in a kind of sob. It was as she had guessed—and feared!
"Ella," she asked slowly, "are you going alone?"