offices of the clergyman of the parish, who happened to be known to some
of the Boyce family. He and his wife--they had no children--did their
duty amply by the odd undisciplined child. They asked her to tea once or
twice; they invited her to the school-treat, where she was only
self-conscious and miserably shy; and Mr. Ellerton had at least one
friendly and pastoral talk with Miss Frederick as to the difficulties of
her pupil's character. For a long time little came of it. Marcella was
hard to tame, and when she went to tea at the Rectory Mrs. Ellerton, who
was refined and sensible, did not know what to make of her, though in
some unaccountable way she was drawn to and interested by the child. But
with the expansion of her thirteenth year there suddenly developed in
Marcie's stormy breast an overmastering absorbing passion for these two
persons. She did not show it to them much, but for herself it raised
her to another plane of existence, gave her new objects and new
standards. She who had hated going to church now counted time entirely
by Sundays. To see the pulpit occupied by any other form and face than
those of the rector was a calamity hardly to be borne; if the exit of
the school party were delayed by any accident so that Mr. and Mrs.
Ellerton overtook them in the churchyard, Marcella would walk home on
air, quivering with a passionate delight, and in the dreary afternoon of
the school Sunday she would spend her time happily in trying to write
down the heads of Mr. Ellerton's sermon. In the natural course of things
she would, at this time, have taken no interest in such things at all,
but whatever had been spoken by him had grace, thrill, meaning.

Nor was the week quite barren of similar delights. She was generally
sent to practise on an old square piano in one of the top rooms. The
window in front of her overlooked the long white drive and the distant
high road into which it ran. Three times a week on an average Mrs.
Ellerton's pony carriage might be expected to pass along that road.