Millie flushed. She felt her anger rising as she had known that it would do. Foreseeing this scene she had told herself again and again that she must keep her temper when it arrived, above all things keep her temper.
"Now, Ellen, please don't. I know that you don't like him, but remember that it's settled now for good or bad. I'm very sorry that you don't like him better, but when you know him——"
"Know him! Know him? As though I didn't. But I won't let it pass. Even though you never speak to me again I'll force such evidence under your nose that you'll have to realize. Lord! the fools we women are! We talk of character and the things we say we admire, and we don't admire them a bit. What we want is decent legs and a smooth mouth and soft hands. I thought you had some sense, a little wisdom, but you're younger than any of us—I despise you, Millie, for this."
Millie jumped up from the table where she had been writing.
"And what do I care, Ellen, whether you do despise me? Who are you to come and lecture me? I've had enough of your ill-temper and your scenes and all the rest of it. I don't want your friendship. Go your own way and let me go mine."
Within her a voice was saying: "You'll be sorry for this afterwards. You know you will. You told me you were not going to lose your temper."
Ellen tarried by the door. "You can say what you like to me, Millie. I'll save you from this however much you hate me for it." She went out.
"I despise you, Millie, for this." The words rang in Millie's head as she sat there alone, repeated themselves against her will. Well, what did it matter if Ellen did despise her? Yes it did matter. She had been laughing at Ellen all these weeks and yet she cared for her good opinion. Her vanity was wounded. She was little and mean and small.
And behind that there was something else. There had been more than anger and outraged sentiment in Ellen's attitude. She had meant what she said. She had something serious in her mind about Bunny—something that she thought she knew . . . . something. . . .
"I'm contemptible!" Millie cried, "losing my temper with Ellen like a fishwife, then distrusting Bunny. I'm worthless." She wanted to run after Ellen and beg her pardon but pride restrained her. Instead she was cross with Victoria all the morning.