While Lettice was more and more concerned about the absence of Roger and Ella's constant talks with Mr. Dawson, Ella herself couldn't care less, her mind being on anything but the wedding.

"Ella, dear, may I speak…"

"Sorry, no time…."

The rest of the sentence was lost to the door of her room being shut.

Lettice shook her head. Her niece certainly was hitting on her nerves. She realized that if she didn't do anything, the wedding and of course the marriage itself would turn out a disaster. Grace, Ella's governess, wasn't much a help either. She should've observed her more closely, but instead she was more interested in talking about the newest gossip with a friend of hers living here in the city.

In short there wasn't really anyone she could turn to. Mr. Lindsay was only out and about.

Lettice had been caring for her niece since she was seven. This year her parents had died in an accident while making a climbing tour. Little Ella had been handed round to various relatives until finally staying with her aunt. Lettice herself had been married young, being a young widow as well with no children of her own.

That was probably the main reason why she was chosen in the end to care for Ella. Lettice did everything you make up for the young girl losing her mother at an early age, which included finding a suitable husband.

Meanwhile Ella sat on the bed thinking about what she could do.

'We were in the water…'

But he had been, she was lying on a door.

So why was she dead and he…?

That didn't make any sense.

Ella had laid down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Suddenly her head shot up at once and knew exactly what she needed to do before anything else could take place. She had to be sure.

The sound of footsteps could be heard.

"Ella, my dear we need to…?"

Just as Lettice was about to knock on the door, to finally talk about sense into her niece, it flew open and Ella was past her down the stairs, before she even got a chance to realize what had happened.

"Where are you…?" she shouted after her.

"I'll be back shortly."

Lettice shook her head, looking after her confused, noticing that her coat was still hanging on the shelf.

Whatever had gotten into her niece? Surely Roger wouldn't condemn such behaviour. And this Mr. Dawson had surely told her some strange story, which know made her act in such illogical ways.

Ella had been out with such urgency that she had even forgotten to grab her coat. Only when she was half way down the street, did she realize the cold around her.

But she couldn't and wouldn't go back. If she did her aunt would just stop her from leaving the house again.

She stood motionless for a moment scanning the area.

Where should she…?

"Excuse me, Sir?" she stopped man, who looked her up and down curiously for a while, surely wondering what a girl like her was doing here alone, not properly dressed.

"Are you hurt, Miss?" he asked back.

Of course he thinks that I'm in trouble. Why does anyone have to treat me like a child?

"No, I'm not," she blurted out her voice panting from running. "I just want to know where the town hall is," she added breathlessly.

The man watched her once more.

"I'm not sure, Miss, if…," he spoke up.

"Oh please…it's important," Ella begged him her eyes pleading with him.

"Over there," he finally pointed in a direction against his better judgement.

Before he could react, Ella through her arms around him and shouted out a few thank you's.

The man smiled, watching after her.

What a strange girl.

Roger happily toasted with Mrs. Pearson, Lygia standing beside them. She had been offered a glass of champagne as well, but declined.

There was no way she could or would be celebrating her own misery.

"You made a good choice, my dear," she said pleased by herself. "And you, Sir, you'll see she's a great girl..."

"I know," Roger smiled in Lygia's direction.

The girl was bending down her head.

"I know...," he repeated coming up to her, putting an arm around her, looking at her with lust within his eyes.

Mrs. Pearson understood.

"I'll leave you alone now," she laughed. "Enjoy yourself...," her hatred for the girl could be clearly heard.

Even Roger was shocked.

But stille couldn't hold himself back. This girl was simply too beautful.

He was on top of her, before Mrs. Pearson had even closed the door.

"Sir…Miss…I need to…," Ella said to the first person that came into view. "I have to see someone," she grabbed the arm of a girl walking by.

"Have you got an appointment?"

Ella looked at her confused releasing her.

"Well you need an appointment to speak with the officials," she told her surely wondering as well about her strange look.

"No, you don't understand…I'm just here for my…for some…the Titanic…I need to be sure that someone really died," she stammered at last getting out what she was here for.

"Ah, I see," the girl said with clear sympathy in her eyes as if saying – oh you poor dear.

She thinks that I lost a relative.

Ella didn't bother to correct her.

"Just sit down here, Miss," she said offering her a chair. "And wait a moment. I'll be back in a minute."

Shortly after she returned with a list in her hands.

"It was published after the sinking in the Boston Times…the most accurate one we have here," she explained.

"I hope you'll find your relative on the survivors list," the girl told her assuming she was here for her family. "I'll be just up the desk, if you need me…"

Ella nodded already scanning the papers.

Finally the name…her name peered up before her eyes – Rose Dawson.