Mrs Ramsden’s eyes flashed with anger.
“If an earthly love is the only incentive you have to follow the paths of righteousness, Mr Greville, that is a poor inducement to me to give my child into your care! I have brought her up to put principle first of all. It is my chief objection to yourself that your character is not worthy of the trust!”
“My dear lady, he is not a pickpocket! You speak as if he were a hardened criminal,” cried Madame, with an irritated laugh. “Geoffrey may not be a saint, but I assure you that, considered as a young man of the world, he is quite a model specimen! He has been an excellent son. There have been no debts; no troubles of any kind. Absolutely, at times I have accused him of being almost too staid. ... One can only be young once!...”
“I think you and Mrs Ramsden have somewhat different standards, mother,” put in Geoffrey quietly. He turned towards the last-mentioned lady, bending forward and speaking with deliberate emphasis. “I quite agree with you, Mrs Ramsden, that I am unworthy of your daughter. I wish I had been a better man for her sake. With her to help me I hope I might become a man more after your own heart. As my mother says, I have so far been a respectable member of society, for the things which you condemn in me are after all matters of opinion, but at this moment I stand at the parting of the ways. If you give me Elma, I shall look upon her as a sacred trust, and shall be a better man for her sake. I must be a better man with her beside me! ... If you refuse; if she refuses”—he shrugged expressively—“you empty my life of all I value. The responsibility will be upon your shoulders!”
“That is not true! You can depute to nobody the responsibility of your own soul,” Mrs Ramsden began solemnly, but Madame interrupted with an impatient gesture.
“I thought Geoffrey was not to interfere! For pity’s sake don’t let us waste time talking sentiment! We are here to discuss this matter in a sensible, business manner. Let us begin at once, and not waste time!”
To her surprise Elma met her glance with a smile. A happy, composed little smile, which brought the dimples into her soft cheeks. Really the child was wonderful! Her quietness and self-possession were in delightful contrast with her mother’s flustered solemnity. Madame returned the smile, with restored equanimity, and felt a thrill of artistic satisfaction.
“I am afraid Geoffrey and I hardly look at our engagement from a business point of view!” said Elma, slowly. “It is a matter of sentiment with us, and we are not a bit ashamed of it, but I must answer mother first. ... Mother, dear, you are shocked because Geoffrey says he would not be good without me, but when you were young, when you were careless, and enjoyed things which you disapprove of now, was there no good influence in your life which helped you to be strong? It may have been a companion, or a book, or a sermon—one of a hundred things—but when it came, weren’t you thankful for it? Didn’t you hold close to it and fear lest it should go? I am Geoffrey’s influence! I’m glad and proud that it is so. If I can help him in one little way, I’d rather do it than anything else in all the world! When he feels like that about me, I should think it very, very wrong to give him up.”
“Elma, my dear, these are specious arguments! You are deceiving yourself, and preparing a bitter awakening! Mr Greville does not even understand what he is promising. His ideas and yours are different as night from day; the same words convey different meanings to you and him. You would find as you talked together that there was a gulf between you on every serious subject.”
“No, mother, dear, there is no gulf. We agree—we always agree! I am amazed to find how marvellously we agree,” said Elma, simply. Geoffrey’s eyes flashed a look at her; a look of adoring triumph. Madame screwed her lips on one side, and stared markedly at a corner of the ceiling. Mrs Ramsden wrung her hands in despair.