“God bless you, my child,” Lady Cheynes murmured, and she kissed Ella on the forehead; “I could not wish anything better for you than that you should be like your mother in every way, except that I hope you are stronger. And she looks so, does she not, Maddie?”
“I don’t think she could possibly look better,” said Madelene. Ella glanced at her with a less amiable expression than that with which she had been favouring Lady Cheynes, but the visitor was loosening her mantle at that moment, and did not see it.
“Of course they will make out that I am as strong as a horse,” the girl was saying to herself.
“Where have you located her?” the old lady went on to ask. “The rooms you were intending for her can’t be ready.”
“No,” said Madelene, “that is the worst of Ella’s unexpected arrival, and we couldn’t—papa did not wish her to be in the north side—so—”
“I am in the nursery,” said Ella, meekly. “I am quite comfortable there.”
“In the nursery,” repeated Lady Cheynes with a comical expression, “but I don’t expect you will stay there long, do you?”
Ella looked down.
“I don’t know,” she said. “It is quite a nice little room. Would Lady Cheynes like to see it, perhaps?” she asked demurely.
Miss St Quentin felt at that moment more inclined to shake Ella than at any time since her arrival.