Prudence was not so sanguine. Persistent opposition of the kind enforced in her family bore one with the irresistible force of a flood in the most unlikely directions. To brave this opposition from a distance was a very different affair from facing it daily and being crushed beneath its influence. She had had experience enough of this sort in the past.
“It wouldn’t be so intolerable,” she said, “if Edward and I could five alone. I want a home of my own. I should hate to have my household ordered according to Mrs Morgan’s ideas of what a home should be. Imagine not being mistress in one’s own house!”
“I can’t imagine anything of the kind,” Mrs Henry said, and became animated with a new and brilliant inspiration. “Make your consent to marrying him conditional on his keeping a separate establishment,” she suggested. “Turn the old woman out—or make him take another house. That’s how I should act in your place.”
The audacity of this proposal robbed it largely of its effect. Prudence rejected it without consideration.
“They would never agree to that,” she said.
“Then Edward has no right to hold you to your engagement. You didn’t undertake to marry his mother.”
Mrs Henry felt particularly pleased with her Solomon-like solution of the difficulty. She urged Prudence to give it her attention.
“You have the whole situation in your hands, if you like to be firm,” she said.
It was a shabby card. Prudence felt, to hold in reserve for the winning of the game. Nevertheless, if it was a shabby card, it was a very strong one: it threw the responsibility of decision on Mr Morgan’s shoulders.
“Don’t let them bully you, you poor child!” Mrs Henry added, and passed a friendly arm around Prudence’s waist. “Be firm, and show some spirit, and you’ll win through.” She took Prudence out motoring, to change the current of her thoughts, as she expressed it. “It won’t help matters if you are ill on our hands,” she said.