"It is necessary of course that she should learn to control herself," I managed to edge in.
"You see—er—Miss Conway,—it is not that Elfie has more heart than the others—but—er—less command—and very nervous. Her dear mother always says—er—that dear Elfie requires much bracing. The dear girls are all so unlike one another. You will find—er—very different modes of treatment required. Elfie has always been something of a trouble to her dear mother. So unlike dear Maggie and Nona, and our dear Nellie—er. Thyrza again—but indeed Thyrza is a difficult girl to comprehend. In Elfie there is no want of feeling—" a slight stress on "Elfie" seemed to imply the want in Thyrza,—"but—er—not a happy temperament, I fear. My dear wife made Elfie promise—er—promise faithfully not to give way in her absence to these hysterical tendencies. I am quite grieved that dear Elfie's resolution—er—should so soon have failed."
"I think Elfie fought well, before giving way," I said. "She is not well this evening."
Mr. Romilly shook his head, demurred, and sighed. Maggie took no part in the dialogue, and her good-night to me was markedly frigid.
I could not but muse much, in the course of going to bed, on things as they were compared with things as I had expected to find them. And never in my life before have I prayed so earnestly for wisdom in everyday life. One false step now might bring on a most unpleasant state of things, and permanently alienate Maggie from me.
Thyrza I have in some measure won already; and Elfie's manner since Saturday evening has been affectionate. But I have no hold on Nona; Maggie does not like me; and Miss Millington is already my distinct antagonist.
"If any man lack wisdom, let him ask of God, . . . and it shall be given him." Clear enough that. "But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering."
I do lack; and I think I am asking, with full belief in the promise. But the wisdom one asks may not be given precisely as and how one would choose. I must be content to wait.
Late as I sat up, Saturday night, others overhead were later still. A prolonged murmur of voices went on long. Not till I was in bed did it cease, and then I heard footsteps come softly downstairs, and pass into "the girls'" room, where Maggie now sleeps alone.
Could that be Maggie? I thought. And next morning I overheard Denham say—