“My sister’s cook!” repeated Herbert. “It is as I suspected, a mere matter of pride on your part.”
“No,” said Elsie desperately. “It is a matter of bread and butter. As your sister’s cook I am earning good wages, that are of incalculable value to those I love and for whom I work. If I lose my place, it means deprivation and distress. Can you not see my reason and be generous?”
“Generous, most certainly; but not for any reason you advance. I am not under my sister’s dominion.”
“But I am; and if I in any way incur her displeasure, I shall suffer for it.”
“Not through me,” said Herbert stoutly. “I shall take good care of that.”
“You can only do it by refusing to notice me any further; a favor which I particularly request.”
“I do not know that I ever before flatly refused a lady’s request; but this time I am compelled to do so by circumstances beyond my control.”
The mischief in Herbert’s eyes was too much for Elsie’s volatile nature, and she greeted his audacious statement with a ripple of laughter which she bitterly regretted a second later.
“There!” he exclaimed. “I am glad the statuesque repose of the De Veres has been broken. I think we shall understand each other soon.”
“We do now,” said Elsie hastily. “I cannot speak any plainer.”