"Where is Grannie?" asked Ella half-distractedly. "I thought she was in London."
"She came back the same time as I did from my shopping, and we found the house alight."
Poor Grannie! Ella had indeed much to answer for that afternoon. In her anxiety to help little Marcia, she had forgotten all about Molly's behests concerning the linen.
Mrs. Russell was amongst the crowd, looking terribly ill with the shock she had sustained. In her eyes, too, was an expression of fear, which as soon as she caught sight of Ella died away.
"Thank God—thank God, you are safe, child!" ejaculated the old lady.
Then, the relief being almost more than she knew how to bear, she swayed forwards in a fainting condition. But for the stalwart arm of a policeman, Mrs. Russell would have been in a sorry plight.
"Hi, there!" shouted the constable to a man in a wagon near by. "Take this 'ere lady up to the Hall. She ain't fit to be in a crowd like this."
The man willingly agreed, and between them, poor Mrs. Russell was lifted into the wagon and taken to the Hall, Ella and Marcia accompanying her.
A short while later, Mrs. Snowden and the children returned from their drive. Great, indeed, was their consternation on beholding the burning cottage, and they at once made eager inquiries concerning its inmates. Their anxiety being relieved as to their whereabouts, Mrs. Snowden bade the coachman drive on home without delay.
That night Mrs. Russell and Ella slept at the Hall; in fact, until suitable lodgings were found for them, they remained there as welcome guests.