This decided Marcia. She would take Jenny back to the gipsy encampment, and that without delay.
But it must be done secretly, for well she knew that neither cook nor Ellen, the housemaid, would let her go if they knew of it.
Wrapping poor Jenny in a piece of flannel, she laid her in a basket, and seizing the first opportunity that came, she left the house by a side door and started off on her way. By the time she had reached Rose Cottage, her arms began to ache terribly. As it chanced, Ella was in the garden planting some primrose roots.
"Marcia, whatever have you got there?" she asked, catching sight of the big basket. "It's my monkey, and she's—she's dying," replied Marcia with a sobbing catch in her voice. "Mary says she's homesick, so I'm taking her back."
"But you can't carry her all that way by yourself," said Ella.
"I shall take the train if I can," was Marcia's answer. Then, a sudden thought striking the little girl, she added: "Oh, Ella, couldn't you come with me? Then we could carry poor Jenny between us."
But Ella shook her head. "I promised Grannie not to leave the house while Molly was out," she said. "She's gone shopping, and Grannie is in London for the day. I've got to look after the fire, you see; that's how it is."
"But your Grannie wouldn't mind if she knew about poor Jenny," pleaded Marcia. "She'll die if I can't get her home, and I don't believe I can do it by myself."
The tears in Marcia's eyes, appealed to Ella's tender little heart, and she began to waver.
"I don't like breaking my promise to Grannie," she said; "but p'raps she wouldn't mind just this once."