At this reassuring speech Elma turned white to the lips, and for a moment swayed in her seat, as if about to faint. Cornelia sprang to her side, while Geoffrey whispered to his mother in urgent tones, to which she listened with lifted brows, half-petulant, half-amused. A final nod and shrug proved her consent, and she turned to Elma with a gracious air of hospitality. Madame could never be less than gracious to a guest in her own house! "My dear child, forgive me! I did not realise how unnerved you were. Of course, you must not dream of returning home to-night. Your mother and I are old friends, and she will trust me to take care of you. Your friend will tell her that you are going to rest quietly here until you are better. Quite a charity, I assure you, to keep me company! It will remind me of the days before my own Carol deserted me for that monster, and went off to India. Only daughters should not be allowed to marry in their mother's lifetime. Remember that when your time comes! You won't, of course, but it's horribly ungrateful all the same. Now that's settled! To-morrow they can send you out some things, but for to-night I can supply all you need. A tea-gown fits anyone, and I've a dream which has just come home, that will suit you to distraction. Don't worry any more, dear--it's all settled!" But Elma was palpitating with agitation. That she, Elma Ramsden, should be invited to spend several days at Norton Manor seemed altogether too unlooked for and extraordinary a happening to be realised. She was overcome with gratitude, with regret, with incredulity, for of course it was impossible to accept. Madame could not be in earnest! The invitation was merely a polite form of speech! Even if she did mean it, her own mother would strongly disapprove, for did she not consider Madame a hopeless worldling, and her son a wolf in sheep's clothing, a type of everything that a young man should not be? Oh, no! it was quite, quite impossible, all the more so that she longed, longed intensely; longed from the very bottom of her heart, to accept! Elma straightened herself in her chair, protesting, explaining, thanking, and refusing in confused broken sentences, to which none of her hearers paid the least attention. Mrs Greville and her son waived objections aside with the easy certainty of victory, while Cornelia cried briskly-- "You don't hev a choice! I undertook to bring you out, but I won't take you back if I know it, until you ken sit behind a horse without going off into hysterics every time he tosses his mane. Your mother'd be a heap more scared to see you coming back looking like a death's head, than to hear that you were comfortably located with a friend till you pulled round. I guess there's nothing for you to do but to say `Thank you,' as prettily as you know how, and settle down to be comfortable. Why make a fuss?"