"Listen, Edward," she said quickly. "I overheard what your father said, and I understand that you have announced your resolve to marry this ..." Lady Flower paused for a second as if she were pondering the effect upon her son of describing the young woman too brutally ... "this pretty country girl," she continued, sure now of the key in which her persuasion should be played, a key of light irony, of compassionate ridicule which must bring the sensitive Edward to a perception of the impossibility of what he was proposing. "I think I have seen her once or twice hanging out the clothes or feeding her grandfather's chickens. She has red hair, has she not? And is she not much freckled?" "She has glorious hair," Edward avowed. "And her complexion is perfect." "Red-headed women usually freckle somewhat easily," said his mother indifferently. "But let that pass, we will admit her beauty. Personally I distrust red-haired women. There is something of the fox...." Lady Flower broke off to shrug her shoulders in distaste. "I should hardly describe her hair as red myself," Edward said. "It has reddish tints, but...." "My dear boy, you are not proposing to paint this young woman; you are proposing to marry her. When your father came home furious because he had seen you kissing her on a garden-seat or some such romantic spot, I took your part. Indeed, your father was shocked at my inability to see much harm in kissing a pretty village maiden. But marriage, ah, _par example, mais ça c'est un peu fort, tu sais_. Have you really considered what it will mean in a few years' time when your Graziella coarsens? You will have to earn your own living, for I know your father well enough to be sure that if you do marry this girl he will keep his word and cut you off. That means that you will not have the leisure to educate her, that you will be dragged down to her level, that you will...." "Please, mamma, please I beg you not to say any more. My mind is made up, and if I have to renounce my family I want to leave you without the least bitterness. I will not hear a word against Elizabeth. I adore her." "And where will you live?" his mother inquired, biting her lips. "I am going to ask her grandfather if he will take me on at his farm." "You are going to live within a few miles of us as a farm hand?" "I shall be happy," said Edward, miserably aware of his mother's contempt. "I have always defended you until now. But such ... such.... Oh, I have no word for such a despicable suggestion. I have finished with you, Edward. I almost wish I could shout as loudly as your father to tell you how completely I despise you. Go to that minx, who in a year will despise you as much as I do, and who will play you false with the first handsome plowboy she meets. And you'll deserve it, you weakling!"