For a whole week the battle raged; the battle between youth and age, love and the world. Elma pleaded for patience and self-restraint, Geoffrey urged defiance and independence; Mrs Ramsden quoted Scripture, and made constant reference to serpents' teeth, while Madame remained charmingly satirical, refusing to treat the matter otherwise than as a joke, laughing at Geoffrey's rhapsodies, and assuring him that he was suffering from an attack of sun, from which recovery would be swift and certain. Rupert Guest and Cornelia hurried to and fro on the outskirts of the fray, in the character of aides-de-camp carrying messages, and administering encouragement and consolation. Every morning Cornelia sat in conclave with her friend in the prosaic Victorian drawing-room which took the place of the turret chamber of romance. Elma would not condescend to hold stolen interviews with her lover, while both families so strongly opposed the engagement, so she shut herself up in the house, growing daily whiter and thinner, wandering aimlessly from room to room, and crying helplessly upon her bed. It was as a breath of fresh mountain air when Cornelia appeared upon the scene, bearing always the same terse, practical advice--"Make sure of your own mind, and--_stick_ to it!" The colour came back to Elma's face as she listened, and hope revived in her heart. She declared anew that nothing in the world should separate her from Geoffrey; that she would be true to him to the last day of her life. Cornelia repeated these touching vows in conclave with Guest behind the shrubbery of the Park, and then he went off post-haste to the Manor, to cheer Geoffrey with the news of the steadfast loyalty of his _fiancee_. Second-hand assurances soon pall, however, on the youthful lover, and after a week had passed by, Geoffrey suddenly waxed desperate, and announced that he would not submit to the separation for another hour. He was perfectly capable of choosing his own wife, Elma was of age, and at liberty to decide for herself. He would go down to The Holt that very afternoon and have it out with the old lady, once for all. If his mother liked to accompany him, so much the better. She and Mrs Ramsden could each have their say, and then he and Elma would have theirs. For his part he warned them that no arguments could move him from his point, but they might see what they would do with Elma! Perhaps they could persuade Elma to give him up! He smiled as he spoke, in proud, self-confident fashion, but Madame looked at him thoughtfully, smoothed the ruffles on her sleeves, and replied in her sweetest tones-- "Dear boy, yes! quite a good idea. Let us talk it over like sensible people. Elma has such truly nice feelings.--I feel sure we may trust her decision!"