Ellen’s face lost a little of its repose—­suddenly, for a moment, she looked like the Ellen of “four years ago.”

“Really, Joanna, you might refrain from raking up the past.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to rake up nothing.  I’ve no right—­seeing as what I want to tell you is that I’m just the same as you.”

Ellen turned white.

“What do you mean?” she cried furiously.

“I mean—­I’m going to have a child.”

Ellen stared at her without speaking, her mouth fell open; then her face began working in a curious way.

“I know I been wicked,” continued Joanna, in a dull, level voice—­“but it’s too late to help that now.  The only thing now is to do the best I can, and that is to get out of here.”

“Do you know what you’re talking about?” said Ellen.

“Yes—­I know right enough.  It’s true what I’m telling you.  I didn’t know for certain till yesterday.”

“Are you quite sure?”

“Certain sure.”

“But—­” Ellen drummed with her fingers on the table, her hands were shaking, her colour came and went.

“Joanna—­is it Albert’s child?”

“Of course it is.”

“Then why—­why in God’s name did you break off the engagement?”

“I tell you I didn’t know till yesterday.  I’d been scared once or twice, but he told me it was all right.”

“Does he know?”

“He doesn’t.”

“Then he must be told”—­Ellen sprang to her feet—­“Joanna, what a fool you are!  You must send him a wire at once and tell him to come down here.  You must marry him.”

“That I won’t!”

“But you’re mad—­really, you’ve no choice in the matter.  You must marry him at once.”

“I tell you I’ll never do that.”

“If you don’t ... can’t you see what’ll happen?—­are you an absolute fool?  If you don’t marry this man, your child will be illegitimate, you’ll be kicked out of decent society, and you’ll bring us all to ruin and disgrace.”

Ellen burst into tears.  Joanna fought back her own.

“Listen to me, Ellen.”

But Ellen sobbed brokenly on.  It was as if her own past had risen from its grave and laid cold hands upon her, just when she thought it was safely buried for ever.

“Don’t you see what’ll happen if you refuse to marry this man?—­It’ll ruin me—­it’ll spoil my marriage.  Tip ...  Good God! he’s risen to a good deal, seeing the ideas most Englishmen have ... but now you—­you—­”

“Ellen, you don’t mean as Tip ull get shut of you because of me?”

“No, of course I don’t.  But it’s asking too much of him—­it isn’t fair to him ... he’ll think he’s marrying into a fine family!”—­and Ellen’s tears broke into some not very pleasant laughter—­“both of us ...  Oh, he was sweet about me, he understood—­but now you—­you!—­Whatever made you do it, Joanna?”

“I dunno ...  I loved him, and I was mad.”