"Naturally, I should be the last person to say 'I told you so', Elizabeth, but you see what patience has done. It is always best to be patient, my child."
"Yes, Dad." "Blakely's mother has acted very handsomely toward us, considering—"
"Very handsomely, CONSIDERING," I agreed.
"And we must try to meet her half way." "Yes, Dad."
"No doubt she had her reasons for behaving as she did."
"I'm sure of it."
"You see, my dear, I've understood the situation from the very first."
"You sweet old simpleton, of course you have! But here it is half past seven, and you haven't begun to dress. Be off with you."
Although, at first, I had felt it would be all but impossible for me to attend Mrs. Porter's dinner, my talk with Blakely had so raised my spirits that now I was able to face the ordeal with something very like serenity. What did it matter? What did anything matter, so long as Blakely loved me? Then, too, I knew I was looking my very best; my white lace gown was a dream; Valentine had never done my hair so becomingly.
When Blakely called at our rooms for Dad and me, I was not at all unhappy. And the dear boy was so relieved to see it! I will confess, however, to one moment of real terror as we approached the drawing room where we were to join our hostess. But her greeting was most cordial and reassuring. And when she begged me to stand up with her, and help her receive her guests, I almost felt at home, for I knew it meant her surrender was unconditional.