Rosemary began to laugh.
“Ellen, I thought you had a sense of humour. Can you see me doing it?”
“I don’t see why you wouldn’t. His house is big enough—you’d have your share of it to yourself—he wouldn’t interfere.”
“Ellen, the thing is not to be thought of. Don’t bring this up again.”
“Then,” said Ellen coldly, and determinedly, “I shall not marry him. I shall not leave you here alone. That is all there is to be said about it.”
“Nonsense, Ellen.”
“It is not nonsense. It is my firm decision. It would be absurd for you to think of living here by yourself—a mile from any other house. If you won’t come with me I’ll stay with you. Now, we won’t argue the matter, so don’t try.”
“I shall leave Norman to do the arguing,” said Rosemary.
“I’ll deal with Norman. I can manage him. I would never have asked you to give me back my promise—never—but I had to tell Norman why I couldn’t marry him and he said he would ask you. I couldn’t prevent him. You need not suppose you are the only person in the world who possesses self-respect. I never dreamed of marrying and leaving you here alone. And you’ll find I can be as determined as yourself.”
Rosemary turned away and went into the house, with a shrug of her shoulders. Ellen looked down at St. George, who had never blinked an eyelash or stirred a whisker during the whole interview.