The Third Miss St Quentin

by Mrs. Molesworth

day that you were sohorribly frightened about her--the day she ran off I mean," Erminereplied.

  "No," Madelene allowed. "That day I did think--He was fearfully upset.But it may have been principally on our account. I shall never forgethow he looked when I sent over in my desperation to fetch him back fromCheynesacre--he was almost _rough_ to me--fancy, Ermine! But I did notmind--I was so frightened myself. And he was so clever and sensibleabout it. He found out so wonderfully quickly that she was safe withFraulein Braune."

  "And he managed Mrs Burton very well too," said Ermine.

  "Don't forget our promise never to tell it was he who went to see her,"said Madelene, quickly.

  "Ella shall certainly not hear it from us," said Ermine, "but I doubtMrs Burton's capacity for keeping a secret."

  "I hope she has not told it," said Madelene; "I could not bear poor Ellato be misled into thinking Philip cares for her--I did my best to warnher, but I doubt if it did any good."

  "Except to make her angry with you," said Ermine. "That is usually thefate of the warner in such cases."

  "And perhaps it put the idea more in her head than it was," addedMadelene, regretfully. "They say, Ermine, that Philip is a great dealat the Belvoirs' now, and Leonora is certainly a very nice girl."

  "Rubbish," said Ermine. "He has known Leonora Belvoir since she was ababy, and seen her constantly. And she is not _half_ as pretty, asElla. If only Ella had come back sooner, I think I could have gotGuildford to find out about it," she added meditatively. "I suppose youcouldn't get Bernard to do so?"

  Madelene grew crimson.

  "Ermine, how can you be so thoughtless?" she exclaimed. "It is reallyunkind of you. I hope most earnestly, as you know, that Captain Omarwill not come. Philip knows I do not want him to come."

  But Ermine said no more.

  The day of the marriage was bright and sunny. When Ella woke up, andsaw from her window the familiar scene in all its summer beauty, sheshut her eyes for a moment, while a sort of fantastic wish went throughher that the last few months might prove to be only a dream, that shehad only now arrived for the first time at her home, and that all happypossibilities lay before her. She was again in her old "nursery"--shehad begged that it might be so, though the rooms her sisters hadoriginally intended for her were long ago ready.

  "Oh, dear, if I could but go back again, how different I would be," shethought. "How is it? Madelene and Ermine seem so different now--it isas if scales had fallen from my eyes. I wonder," she went on, "I wonderif I had never remembered that silly old fancy about being likeCinderella--I wonder if Harvey had never put it into my head, if thingswould have turned out better? How sad it seems that bad or foolishthings should stick to us like burrs all through the years, and thatgood and wise and useful things should be so quickly forgotten!"

  She roused herself before long however; there was plenty for her to dothis wedding-day. She was full of the wish to be of all the help andsupport she possibly could be to Madelene. For calm and quiet as MissSt Quentin appeared, Ella well knew that the parting with her sister,her "other self," for such indeed Ermine had been to her, was no lightmatter, no slight wrench. And this reflection bore good fruit with theyoungest sister.

  "I will never call Madelene cold or heartless again," she thought. "I_know_ how she loves Ermine, and yet she is quietly smiling and calm--astranger might say she did not mind it at all."

  It was still the old-fashioned days of early morning marriages: most ofthe guests were to assemble at the house, for the distance thence to thechurch was very short. Ella had not as yet seen anything of hergodmother, for the evening before, with the exception of aunt Phillisand her husband, Colonel St Quentin and his children had spent alone--and the thought of the meeting with Lady Cheynes lay rather heavily onthe girl's mind. But like many anticipated evils it turned out quitedifferently from her fears.

  "Run down to the fernery, Ella," said Madelene, as they were giving thelast touches to the bride, "and bring me one or two more sprays ofmaidenhair. No, Ermine, I'm not putting too much green. It needs justa tiny bit more."

  Off ran Ella, but half-way down stairs, at a sudden turn she came fulltilt against Lady Cheynes, slowly mounting to Ermine's room.

  "Oh, dear--I beg your pardon," Ella began. Then in a different voice,"Oh! godmother, dear godmother, is it you!"

  She half threw her arms round the old lady's neck, then drew back inaffright.

  "Oh, godmother, dear, will you kiss me? Will you forgive me?" shecried. "I'm afraid you've been very, very vexed with me, but I _didn't_mean to do wrong--it--it was all a mistake somehow."

  Her voice faltered as if she were going to cry; in an instant LadyCheynes was kissing her.

  "My darling," she said, "my poor little silly child. No, no--I was moregrieved than vexed, dear, but perhaps I understand you as well as, orbetter than you understand yourself. But don't cry, my little Ella. Itwould never do to have tears to-day."

  "_I won't_, godmother, I won't cry," said Ella, choking back the tearsbravely, "it is only," she went on, "that you are--you are all so _very_good to me."

  "Well, well--we must have a good talk when all this bustle is over. Iam going up to see Ermine; shall I be admitted?"

  "Oh, dear, yes," said Ella, "she is almost ready. But I must be quick--I was running down to the conservatory for some fern."

  She ran off again, meeting no one till she had chosen and cut the spraysof maidenhair. Then as she turned to leave the fernery, by way of thedrawing-room, she heard voices there. Two or three persons had enteredwhile she was busy about the maidenhair. And one of the voices was thatof Sir Philip Cheynes. Ella hesitated; her heart beat fast, she feltfor a moment or two as if she could not face him composedly; and at thatjuncture she would have given years of her life rather than let himperceive any traces of nervousness or agitation. Yet stay where she wasfor more than a minute she could not.

  "I am not going to play eavesdropper again. What an unlucky place thisfernery seems for me."

  She could not avoid overhearing a little--the end of a conversationbetween Sir Philip and another man, as they came strolling towards thespot where she stood.

  "It is awfully good of you, Phil, to take such an interest in it--but--no I am not sanguine. If the obstacles are to some extent imaginary,they are, with an almost morbidly conscientious mind like hers, all themore difficult to combat. And this recent affair has done great harm;she _will_ take all the blame of it to herself."

  "Yes," came Philip's voice in reply, "I know. But don't lose heart, mydear fellow. You can't--Why, _Ella_!" with a sharp exclamation, "isit--is it really you?"

  Ella's lips were trembling, but she made a tremendous effort. And thesudden perception that Sir Philip was quite as nervous, or considerablymore so than herself helped in a marvellous way to calm her.

  "I was cutting some maidenhair for Ermine," she began. "I--there was noone in the drawing-room when I passed through."

  "It is certainly a curious coincidence," said Sir Philip. "I--I wish--Ihate this place--one never knows who may or may not be here," he addedvehemently.

  Ella grew cold as ice.

  "If you mean that I have been listening, a _second_ time," she said withfrigid haughtiness, "you are mistaken. I only heard the last few wordsyou and this gentleman were saying, and that I could _not_ help."

  The gentleman in question came forward; he smiled slightly as he caughtsight of Ella, but there was a half quizzical look on his face which didnot tend to smooth her ruffled plumage.

  "I am afraid--I hope we have not been trespassing?" he began, lookingrather puzzled. "We should not have come so early, perhaps, Cheynes?"

  "Oh no," said Ella sweetly, with a complete change of tone, as sheturned to the stranger, "of course it was quite right for--but--are youMr West?" she exclaimed suddenly, as the idea struck her.

  The tall, dark man before her bowed formally.

  "I have not the honour of being Mr West," he said. "I am only--"


  "You have met before," Philip interrupted. "Ella, don't you rememberCaptain Omar--Bernard Omar?"

  Ella in her turn looked perplexed.

  "I remember the name--I have often heard it," she said: "But I don'tremember ever seeing _you_, the bearer of it, before."

  She pointedly addressed the stranger, and she seemed to take a perversepleasure in looking her sweetest and speaking in her softest tones. SirPhilip bit his lip and turned away.

  "I'll have it out with her," he