[CHAPTER III]
LITTLE ELLA'S PRAYER
DR. SOAMES then re-seated himself in the carriage, with the poor little dripping burden in his arms, the coachman being bidden to drive with all possible speed to Berryland Hall. Little did Mrs. Snowden dream, as she made her way homewards in the January dusk, of the trouble and anxiety which were awaiting her. Her visit to Rose Cottage had been of a most unsatisfactory nature, the little maid there informing her that "Missis didn't want to see any visitors, and that Miss Ella was suffering great pain with her arm."
The lady was so unused to being treated in this manner, that her feelings were considerably hurt. Upon arriving home, however, all else was forgotten in the shock of hearing of little Marcia's accident.
The news was broken to her by the doctor himself, who at the same time informed her that the child's condition was more or less critical.
The first one to bring the tidings to Rose Cottage was the baker's boy, who gave Molly, Mrs. Russell's maid, a most vivid and graphic account of the whole affair, the story losing nothing in the telling.
Molly, with big round eyes, made her way into her mistress's presence as soon as the boy had gone, the loaf still in her hand.
"What's the matter, Molly?" said Mrs. Russell in a thin querulous voice. She was sitting, with little Ella by her side, over a small fire in the tiny parlour.
"Poor little Miss Marcia, up at the Hall, has been nearly drowned," was the reply; "the baker's boy don't think she'll live out the day, and Mrs. Snowden is fit to break her heart over it."
Little Ella's face, pale already from the effects of her accident, grew paler than ever.