The Third Miss St Quentin

by Mrs. Molesworth

business. Go down on your knees--isn'tthat it?--and present it first to Maddie and then to me. Of course _we_can't get it on, and then you summon--"

  Philip began to look distinctly annoyed; Ella, notwithstanding her usualquickness, seemed merely bewildered.

  "I have not got it," said Sir Philip; "of course I returned it at onceto its rightful owner."

  "I have got it," said Ella. "It is up stairs with its fellow. SirPhilip gave it to me when we met. Would you mind telling where youfound it?"

  "It was just outside the hall door at the Manor," the young man replied."I was standing there not long after my last dance with--with _MissWyndham_," he added with a little smile, "and saw it lying--the bucklegleaming in the moonlight."

  "Like _glass_" interrupted Ermine; "dear me, you are quite poetical,Philip. It must have been that time you went to catch some friends ofyours whom you wanted to say good-night to before they left."

  "Yes," said Philip, simply, "it was."

  And Ella fixed her brown eyes on him as he spoke.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

  DIFFERENCES OF OPINION.

  As Philip was leaving that afternoon, Ella, whom he had not seen sinceluncheon, met him in the hall.

  "Will you be so kind," she began, "if it is not too much trouble--wouldyou mind taking this little parcel to my godmother?" and she held up asmall packet just twice the size of the one that had been transferredfrom his keeping to hers that same morning.

  "Is it the shoes?" he said; "ah, I supposed so. Certainly I will givethem to her. Shall I say you forgot them before?"

  "No," said Ella, colouring a little, "for that would not be true. StillI would rather she did not know of my having so nearly lost one; itwould distress her and seem as if I had been careless. I don't thinkyou need say anything; just give her them from me."

  "Without telling her of their adventures?--very well. But, Ella,"--shelooked a little surprised at his thus addressing her--"I must call youElla; anything else would be absurd,"--he interpolated.

  "Well, yes; I suppose so," she said rather stiffly.

  "You must warn Madelene--your sisters--that you don't want my lady toknow of the accident, otherwise she might very likely allude to it,especially with _my_ having had the good luck to find it."

  Ella's face fell.

  "Oh, then," she said, "you had better tell my godmother all about ityourself. It would be enough for me--I mean, Madelene would veryprobably make a matter of conscience of telling it, if I asked her not.She--my sisters do not give me credit for much good as it is," she addedwith a slight smile, more bitter than playful, "However, it doesn'tmatter. I will write by to-night's post and confess all my sins myselfto my godmother."

  "I think it would be both foolish and unnecessary to tell her anythingabout it," said Sir Philip, who had his own reasons for not wishinganything more to be said about the episode of the shoe. "I can, if youlike, say a word of warning myself to Maddie," he went on, turning backas he spoke to the library. "At the same time," as Ella made an eagergesture of assent, "I don't agree with you about Madelene being so--soill-natured and unfeeling and indeed, worse--hypocritical--as you seemto think her."

  His tone was quiet, but very grave. Ella started a little. It was notso much that he convinced her by what he said, as that she was shockedat hearing her opinion of her sister translated into the words ofothers.

  "I--I did not exactly mean that," she said confusedly.

  "No," Philip returned. "I am sure of that. Besides, of course anythingyou may say to me--in a moment of thoughtlessness or irritation, and weare all subject to such moments--about your sisters, cannot possibly doany harm."

  He smiled at her a little as he spoke--and Philip's smile was verysweet--and then disappeared again into the library. Ella went slowly upstairs to her own room; a bright fire was blazing there.

  "That speech may tell two ways," she said to herself; "if he is such avery privileged and neutral sort of person, I suppose he will listen toall they say against me. What a fool I was to think he would sympathisewith me!" and her cheeks glowed with annoyance. "Yet he might reallyhave been a friend, for I know dear old godmother cares for me. I justwish I had chanced to meet them both elsewhere, quite independently ofall the associations and influences here, for I am sure," and a littlesmile flickered over her face, "I am sure Sir Philip _did_ like me theother night--and now," the smile quite fading away, "he will just lookupon me as they all do--as a tiresome, spoilt little fool that needs anyamount of sitting upon. Indeed, _but_ for meeting me _incognito_, Idon't suppose he would ever have been nice to me at all. And the verything they took advantage of to _prevent_ our getting to know each otherwell and naturally, had just the opposite effect, my dear sisters! Butwhy did godmother join in it?" and Ella's brows contracted inperplexity. "I suppose Ermine can get her to do whatever she likes,"she decided, though the conclusion was not a thoroughly satisfactoryone.

  Just then Hester knocked at the door. She had come "to see to thefire," she said, Miss St Quentin having given orders that during thisvery severe weather a good one was to be kept up in Miss Ella's room allday.

  "Did you go telling tales about my sitting up here in the cold then?"asked Ella, ungraciously enough.

  "Not I, Miss Ella," said Hester, calmly. "If you had gone for to do itagain I'd have spoke up to the young ladies likely enough; but you'dhave known of it, Miss Ella--I'm not one as goes aught butstraightforrard."

  "Am I not one of the young ladies then?" said Ella.

  "You're just a contrary baby, Missie; sweet enough, I'll not deny, whenit suits you."

  Ella laughed, but her laugh was rather contemptuous.

  "So you've had Sir Philip here, Miss Ella," the old servant went on."Wasn't I right about him--he is a nice gentleman, isn't he?" AndHester looked rather scrutinisingly as she spoke. Hester was notwithout a little harmless love of gossip.

  "I'm sure I don't remember what you said," Ella replied indifferently."If you mean that he's nice-looking, yes; he's not bad."

  But while she spoke she congratulated herself that she had not toldHester more particulars of the dance at the Manor.

  "Not much chance of _his_ ever being my prince," she thought with asigh, realising now the place which for the last day or two she hadallowed "the stranger," as they say in the old romances, to occupy inher vague, pretty day-dreams. For the girlish imagination at eighteen"gallops apace."

  Down stairs in the library meanwhile Ella's two sisters were sittingtogether. Philip had left, after giving, as if of himself, thesuggestion as to not mentioning to Lady Cheynes the narrow escape of theslipper--a suggestion at once appreciated and accepted. Madelene waswriting; Ermine, under cover of a book and some work at hand on a littletable beside her, was in reality doing nothing, except from time to timeglancing at her sister.

  "Maddie," she said at last.

  Miss St Quentin stopped writing and looked round with a slight touch ofimpatience.

  "What is it, Ermine?" she said. "If it is anything very particular I'llleave off, but I do want to finish this letter. It must go to-morrow,and you know I can never count upon doing anything in the evening."

  "It is a letter for the Indian mail then, I suppose?" said Ermine.

  "Yes."

  "I--I wish you'd tell me what you are saying, Maddie," said Erminehesitatingly. "You know I don't ask out of officiousness or curiosity."

  "I don't suppose you do; all the same I wish you would leave thesubject. It doesn't do any good and it only makes it harder for me."

  "Tell me at least what you have said," urged Ermine.

  "You know the only thing I can say--the old story--while papa lives itis impossible."

  "And that is all Bernard Omar has won by five--six years' waiting!"exclaimed Ermine indignantly.

  "My dear Ermine, be just to me," said her sister sadly. "I have neverwished him to wait, nor encouraged him in the least to do so. And now--you must see for yourself that it is less possible than ever."
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  "Because of Ella?"

  "Yes, of course. I can't leave this place. It would be wrong,considering it _is_ mine, though eventually I feel sure it will beyours. But it would be too much, far too much to put on you alone,Ermine--the care of this place and papa, as he now is, and, in addition,Ella! No blessing would follow me if I acted so selfishly."

  "But if Bernard agreed to give up his profession and come and