'There you go! Always cutting short the words in my mouth. I can't endure such behaviour, and I wonder what Mrs. Rumford thinks of it. I've given Mrs. Rumford fair warning—'
They wrangled for a few minutes, Emmeline feeling too depressed and anxious to interpose with polite commonplaces. When at length they took their leave, she saw the last of them with a sigh of thanksgiving. It had happened most fortunately that no one called this afternoon.
'Clarence, it's quite out of the question.' Thus she greeted her husband. 'The girl herself I could endure, but oh, her odious mother!—Three guineas a week! I could cry over the thought.'
By the first post in the morning came a letter from Louise. She wrote appealingly, touchingly. 'I know you couldn't stand my mother, but do please have me. I like Sutton, and I like your house, and I like you. I promise faithfully nobody from home shall ever come to see me, so don't be afraid. Of course if you won't have me, somebody else will; I've got two hundred to choose from, but I'd rather come to you. Do write and say I may come. I'm so sorry I quarrelled with mother before you. I promise never to quarrel with you. I'm very good-tempered when I get what I want.' With much more to the same effect.
'We will have her,' declared Mumford. 'Why not, if the old people keep away?—You are quite sure she sounds her h's?'
'Oh, quite. She has been to pretty good schools, I think. And I dare say I could persuade her to get other dresses and hats.'
'Of course you could. Really, it seems almost a duty to take her—doesn't it?'
So the matter was settled, and Mumford ran off gaily to catch his train.
Three days later Miss Derrick arrived, bringing with her something like half-a-ton of luggage. She bounded up the doorsteps, and, meeting Mrs. Mumford in the hall, kissed her fervently.
'I've got such heaps to tell you Mr. Higgins has given me twenty pounds to go on with—for myself; I mean; of course he'll pay everything else. How delighted I am to be here! Please pay the cabman I've got no change.'