The Third Miss St Quentin

by Mrs. Molesworth

thoughthey don't take me into their confidence. But I know they are waitingfor you, and anxious to see you and talk it over."

  Philip looked at her curiously. She did not seem, as to him it wouldhave appeared natural that she should do, either excited or muchinterested. Ermine however was not her own sister, he said to himself.Perhaps that made a difference, for that she was either self-absorbed orcold-hearted he could not for an instant believe.

  "There is really no such tremendous hurry," he repeated. "Uncle Marcuswill be all the better for a little time in which to digest the news.They might as well have told you all about it. Madelene'sconscientiousness and caution run riot sometimes. I should like you tounderstand it all, and I am quite--"

  "Oh no, no, please no!" she cried, putting her hands hastily to herears. "I don't want you to--I would much rather wait for Madelene totell me. Please--please let me go now. I hope it will be all right,and you know I do care for Ermine, and I do want her to be happy."

  "Of course you do. Whoever doubted it?" he replied, half smiling at herstrange manner. "But, Ella--"

  His words were wasted. Before she had heard them Ella was off. Shedarted away, for she had recovered her breath by now, and was hiddenamong the neighbouring thick-growing shrubs, whose shelter she had allbut reached before Sir Philip had first accosted her. He stood for amoment looking after her, his brows knit, his bright face clouded withperplexity. But it would scarcely do for him to run after her, as ifthey were a couple of children playing at "I spy." Besides which he hadhis horse to think of. So he slowly mounted again and rode on to thehouse.

  "Something has rubbed her the wrong way this morning," he said."Madelene's mistaken want of confidence probably. Maddie means well,but she doesn't understand Ella. And there is some excuse for it. Shedoes seem such a child, and yet she is not really childish." He drew along breath. "Perhaps granny is right about waiting, but I don't know.One _can't_ make rules in such matters, and one may run great risks. Iwill not let any misunderstanding come between us--that I will not do.Before I leave to-day, I will tell her all there is to tell aboutErmine, and show her she is in _my_ confidence at least."

  And with no very serious misgiving the young man rang at the hall doorand was told that the master of the house was expecting him and wouldsee him in his own room.

  It was one of the days of Ella's "lessons." Her German teacher was dueat two o'clock. As a rule a very little haste at luncheon left her freeby the time appointed, which could not have been easily altered asFraulein Braune's "time" to her, poor woman, was "money." But when Ellacame into the dining-room at half-past one no one was there. A suddenidea struck her: it would be the greatest possible relief to escapemaking one at the family party. She helped herself hastily to a sliceof cold meat, and having eaten it quickly, took a piece of cake in herhand and rang the bell. Barnes, who was extra attentive andcondescending to-day, as he scented some news in the air, appeared inperson.

  "Tell Miss St Quentin and my father," said Ella coolly, "that I couldnot wait to have luncheon with them as I should be too late for FrauleinBraune."

  "Certainly, Miss Hella," Barnes replied patronisingly. "It will be ofno consequence, I feel sure. My master and Miss St Quentin _and_ SirPhilip are still hengaged in the study. Orders not to be disturbed. Itwill do if I explain your absence, miss, when the Colonel comes in toluncheon?"

  Ella did not trouble herself to reply. She detested Barnes, and he, onhis side, did not love her. Their intercourse had _debute_ badly; Ellahad never forgotten or forgiven the half-suspicious condescension withwhich he had received her on her first unexpected appearance atCoombesthorpe, and had she better understood the facts of her positionthere, she would have been still more irate. For carefully as the StQuentins believed themselves to have kept private all the details oftheir family history such things always leak out. There was not aservant of any intelligence in the establishment who was not thoroughlyaware that the place and the money belonged to the two elder sisters,that "the Colonel, poor gentleman," had lost his own fortune in riskyinvestments, and that the young daughter of his penniless second wifewas to all intents and purposes a pauper. "But for the goodness of ourown young ladies," Barnes, _plus royaliste que le roi_, was wont to say,"Miss Hella, for all her high and mightiness, would have to earn herdaily bread--and a deal of good it would do her."

  Fraulein Braune was punctual: the hour of her lesson passed heavilyto-day; it was very difficult for Ella to give her usual attention. TheGerman was a good, tender-hearted creature, who had known too muchsuffering in life herself not to recognise the symptoms of it inanother, though she smiled inwardly as she thought that trivial indeedand probably imaginary must be the troubles of one so placed as herfortunate pupil--"young, lovely, rich, surrounded by friends, what canshe really have to grieve about?"

  "My dear, you are tired to-day," she said kindly. "You have a headacheI see. There is only a quarter of an hour more. Let us spend it inconversation. Would the open air do you good?"

  Ella gladly acceded.

  "I will walk to the furthest gates with you, Fraulein," she said, "andwe will talk as we go. I have a headache, but it is not a real one; itis because I am unhappy."

  The gentle woman gave her a glance of sympathy, but she tempered hersympathy with common-sense.

  "Beware, my child," she said, as they walked down the drive, "of_imagining_ causes of unhappiness. One is so apt to do so when one isyoung," and she sighed.

  "Ah, but I have some real troubles," Ella replied, "troubles that no onecould deny. I have no mother, you know, Fraulein, and only half-sisterswho till lately were complete strangers to me."

  "Certainly the want of a mother is a great want," her companion agreed."But an elder sister may go far towards making up for it."

  "Ye-es, sometimes," acquiesced Ella. But the tone was enough.

  "Poor little girl," thought Fraulein Braune when she left her, "she doesseem lonely. And she is so lovable! Miss St Quentin must be of a coldnature." Ella retraced her steps: it was cold, but she walked slowly.She felt sure Sir Philip would not be staying long; as he had come overso early, and she wandered about the grounds, choosing the side of thehouse from which she would not be visible to any one leaving it, inhopes of not re-entering it till he had gone.

  But it grew too chilly at last. She determined to make her way in bythe conservatory whence she could run up stairs to her own room withoutmuch risk of meeting any one. The conservatory felt pleasantly warm:she lingered in it for a moment or two, not observing at first that thedoor leading from it into the drawing-room was open, nor indeedattaching any consequence to the fact when she did observe it: thedrawing-room was never used by the family in the earlier part of theday. Suddenly she heard voices. They were those of Madelene and hercousin.

  "I can't find it, Philip," said the former. "Aunty must forgive mycarelessness. I will send it back to-morrow before her Mudie box goes."

  "May not Ella know where it is?" Sir Philip suggested.

  "Possibly. I think I saw her reading it. But she is at her Germanlesson and it is a pity to interrupt her."

  "Goodness, Madelene, you talk as if she were about twelve years old,"said Philip irritably. "When are you going to allow the poor girl toconsider herself grown-up? At her age, you--"

  "It is no good going back upon what I was," Miss St Quentin interrupted."I was quite different, and circumstances were quite different. I domy best with Ella, though I fear I don't succeed in making her happy.It has been a sore subject."

  "When--when Ermine goes, you must make more of a companion of her," SirPhilip suggested. "And then--some day--if Ella goes in the same way--"

  "It would simplify matters of course; that is to say if it was for herhappiness," said Madelene, half reluctantly, it seemed to Ella.

  "I should rather think it would. Why _then_ Omar might take up hisquarters here for good. He would be a perfect right-hand to UncleMarcus. I can understand your feeling that with Ella
here it might notbe a pleasant or natural position for him. Uncle Marcus scarcely countsas a third person--he is so much in his own room."

  "Philip, don't talk about it," said Madelene decidedly. "You almostseem to want to tempt me into wishing Ella away. Very certainly withboth her and my father in a sense on my hands I have no right toundertake other ties. And if _both_ Ermine and I married, it wouldcomplicate matters financially, you know."

  "Yes, I do know," said Philip, "and I repeat what I said. It would be avery good thing if Ella--"

  "Oh, do be