“Poor aunty,” said Ella half affectionately, half patronisingly. But she smiled graciously enough, and Mrs Burton was satisfied.
Ella contrived to say a word or two in private to Mrs Ward before she left. She thanked her for her kindness and added,—
“You must not think I have given up my plan, Mrs Ward. I had to give in in the meantime, but when I am of age, or sooner perhaps, you will probably hear of me again.”
The matron smiled.
“I shall always be pleased to hear of you, Miss St Quentin,” she answered. “But not as wanting to be a governess, I hope. Try to be happy and useful at home. There is no place like it—except in very exceptional circumstances. And then there are so many women who must work and find it very difficult to do so. I am always sorry to see their ranks increased unnecessarily.”
Ella seemed rather struck by this remark.
“I had never thought of it that way,” she said. It was not till her aunt and she were ensconsed in a comfortable railway carriage by themselves that she ventured upon the question she had been all along burning to ask.
“Aunt Phillis,” she began, “have you nothing more to tell me? Did—did Madelene’s messenger say nothing more?”
“What do you mean, my dear?” said Mrs Burton with manifest uneasiness.
“I am almost sure I know who the messenger was,” Ella went on, “and under the circumstances it was, I think, really kind. But you don’t want to tell me, so I won’t ask. Only—did this mysterious person not tell you any news—anything about Ermine?”