But Ella calmly disengaged herself from Mrs Burton, with an unreasonable feeling of irritation and impatience.
“I thought it was Madelene,” she said. “I thought—”
“You were nervous about meeting her, my darling. Of course it was only natural. She has never understood you—that is clear. But it is all going to be happy now; you will see—all’s well that ends well, you know Ellie.”
“Have they sent you for me? Do they want me to go home?” she exclaimed. “For I—I had reason for what I did—I am not a child. I cannot consent to go back—I—”
“No, no, of course not. How could you wish to go back, where I can see and feel you have been so misunderstood and unhappy? Oh, no, dear, you may make your mind quite easy on that score. You don’t think your poor auntie would have come on such an errand—to persuade you to go back to prison again, for prison indeed it must have been. Oh, no, even Madelene saw that—there was no question of your returning there.”
No question of her returning there! She had cut the bonds then only too effectually—a sharp, yet chill pain seemed for an instant to take the girl’s breath away.
“They don’t want me back again, then?” she said. And then without giving her aunt time to speak, she answered her question herself. “No, of course not—how could they? I heard it with my own ears; they wanted to be rid of me.”
But the last few words were too low for her aunt to catch.
“How could they indeed, knowing how unhappy they had made you, my darling?” said Mrs Burton. “No, no, I would never have come on such an errand!”
Ella looked up.