"But, bless you, child, I like you the better for it. It makes you human. Your decorum is the only thing I've ever had to complain of. If I could find a weakness in you now and then, we should agree like two peas in a pod." Electra stood taller and straighter. "At least," she said, "the young woman is here, and we have got to do our best about it." "The young woman! Don't talk as if she were a kitchen wench. What's the use, Electra! What's the sense in being so irreproachable? Come off your stilts while we're alone together." "But, grandmother," said Electra, with an accession of firmness, and leaving irrelevant strictures to be considered in the silence of her room, "I shall neither acknowledge her nor shall I invite her here." "You won't acknowledge her?" "Not until she brings me proof." "You won't ask for it?" "I shan't ask for it. It is for her to act, not for me." "And you won't have her here? Then, by George, Electra, I will!" Electra raised her eyebrows by the slightest possible space. It was involuntary, but the old lady saw it. "You're quite right," she said ironically, "the house isn't mine." "The house is yours to do exactly as you please with it," said Electra, with an instant justice instinct even with a dutiful warmth. "Any guest you invite is welcome. Only, grandmother, I must beg of you not to invite this particular person." "Person! Electra, you make me mad. Be human; come, unbend a little. Take the poker out of your training. Do the decent thing, and ask her here, and then find out about her, and if she's a baggage, turn her out, neck and crop." "I must refuse, grandmother," said Electra. "Now aren't you getting tired? I will bring your food." Madam Fulton spoke with deliberate unction:-- "Perdition take my food!" IX