Elma drew herself up with a charming dignity.
“I told him the truth without any pretences, if that is what you mean,” she said quietly. “I am perfectly satisfied with Geoffrey’s behaviour, and I’d rather not discuss it, Cornelia, please. We may seem old-fashioned to you, but we understand each other, and there is not a thing—not a single thing—I would wish altered. I am perfectly, utterly happy!”
“Bless you, you sweet thing, I see you are, and I’m happy for you! Never mind how it happened; it has happened, and that’s good enough. ... How’s Mrs Ramsden bearing up?”
Elma’s face fell. For a person who had just proclaimed herself completely happy, she looked astonishingly worried and perturbed.
“Oh, my dear, such a scene! I took Geoffrey in to see her, and she couldn’t have been more horrified if he had been the most desperate character in the world. She refused to listen to a word. You would not have recognised mother, she was so haughty and distant, and—rude! Some things she said were horribly rude. After he went, she cried! That was the worst of all. She cried, and said she had given her whole life for me for twenty-three years, and was I going to break her heart as a reward? I cried, too, and said, No, I should love her more, not less, but she wouldn’t listen. She said if I married Geoffrey it would be as bad as a public refutation of all the principles which I had professed since childhood. Then she called him names, and I got angry. We didn’t speak a word all through lunch, and as soon as it was over she sent for a fly to drive to the Manor. She’s there still!”
“Shut up with Madame, hatching the plan of campaign! Madame won’t like it any better, I suppose!”
Elma flushed miserably.
“No; she’s against us, too! Geoffrey told her what he was coming for, and—isn’t it curious?—she was quite surprised! She had not suspected a bit, and I’m afraid she was pretty cross. Geoffrey wouldn’t let me say it, but I know she doesn’t think me good enough. I’m not; that’s quite true. No one knows it better than I.”
“If you say that again, I’ll shake you! You’re a heap too good for the best man that ever lived. Mind now, Elma, don’t start out on this business by eating humble pie! You’ve got to hold up your end of the stick for all you’re worth, and let them see you won’t be sat upon. When you feel redooced, go and sit in front of the glass for a spell, and ask yourself if he won’t be a lucky man to have that vista across the table all the rest of his life. Don’t be humble with him, whatever happens! Make him believe he’s got the pick of the bundle!”
“He—he does!” said Elma, and blushed again. “It makes me ashamed to hear him talk about me, for I know I am really so different. He would not have thought me so sweet if he had heard me scolding mother this morning. Poor mother! I’m so terribly sorry for her. It must be hard to care for a child for twenty-three years, as she says, and then have to step aside for a stranger. I sympathised with every word she said, and knew that I should have felt the same. My head was with her all the time, but my heart”—she clasped her hands to her side with the prettiest of gestures—“my heart was with Geoffrey! Reason’s not a bit of use, Cornelia, when you’re in love.”