“Mr. Williams is here, Mother,” said Elsie, pushing her way into the dining-room.
Geraldine was there, a check apron, torn and greasy, tied round her waist, and her hair still in curling-pins.
She was placing clean forks and spoons all round the table.
She looked at her sister with unfriendly surprise. Elsie had worn her everyday clothes on leaving home that morning, and had changed at Irene’s house.
“Whatever are you dressed up like that for?” said Geraldine at once.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I’d like to know where you get the money to pay for your new hats,” said Geraldine significantly. “First one thing, and then another—I wonder you don’t sport a tiara, young Elsie.”
“Perhaps I may, before I’ve done.”
Elsie was not really thinking of what she was saying, but was rather listening to a sound of voices in the hall outside that denoted a conversation between Williams and Mrs. Palmer.
She could not help hoping that he was breaking the news of their marriage to her mother. Elsie still felt certain that Mrs. Palmer would be very angry. It astonished her when her mother came into the room and kissed her vehemently.