"But I can’t have you stuck on a hall chair in the corridors for the afternoon, all on account of the Dudgeons," said she. "Besides, they’ll be bringing up tea." She knocked smartly on the door. "Mamma, I never saw anything like your nerve," said Elma. Cuthbert opened the door. He stood with the fine light of a conqueror shining in his eyes, the triumph of attainment in his bearing. Mrs. Leighton’s nerve broke down at the sight of him. It was true then. "Oh, Cuthbert, what is this you have been doing?" wailed she. Her son was a man and had left her. Without a word he led her into the arms of Adelaide Maud. "And remember, please, Mrs. Leighton," said that personage finally, "that I would have been here long before if he had let me, and that I had practically to propose before he would have me. Surely that is humiliating enough for a Dudgeon." "Cuthbert wanted to give you your proper position in life, dear, if possible." "When all I wanted was himself--how silly of him," said Adelaide Maud. "Would you mind my telling you that that poor child of mine who has just recovered from typhoid fever is sitting like a hall porter at your door, trembling like an aspen leaf," said Mrs. Leighton. "Won’t you get her in?" They laughed, but it really was no joke to Elma. She had known something of the sorrows of life lately, and had borne up under them, even under the great trial of Miss Annie’s death; but because two people were in love with one another and had said so, she took to weeping. Cuthbert carried her in and petted her on his knee, and Adelaide Maud stood by and said what a selfish man he was, how thoughtless of others, and how really wicked it was of him to have allowed this to happen to Elma. She stood stroking Elma’s hair and looking at Cuthbert, and Cuthbert patted Elma and looked at Adelaide Maud. Then Cuthbert caught Adelaide Maud’s hand and she had to sit beside them, and then tea came and Elma was thankful. "I know what it will be," she said. "You will never look at any of us again, just at each other." Mrs. Leighton regarded the tea table. "It appears," said she, "as if for the first time for years I might be allowed to pour out tea in my own house. You all seem so preoccupied." "Mrs. Leighton," said Adelaide Maud, "you are perfectly sweet. You are the only one who doesn’t reproach me, and I’m taking away your only son." "May I ask when?" asked Cuthbert sedately, but his eyes were on fire. "Don’t you tell him, Helen," said Mrs. Leighton. "It’s good for them not to be in too great a hurry." "She called me Helen," said Adelaide Maud. "Now, Elma! Elma--say Helen, or you’ll spoil the happiest day of our lives." "Say Helen, you monkey!" cried Cuthbert, giving her a large piece of cake and several lumps of sugar. Elma took her cup and the cake in a helpless way. "You just said that to get accustomed to the name yourself," she declared. "And if you don’t mind, I would rather have toast to begin with."