I love
him. I intend to marry him."

"Well, you won't do it from _my_ house. I wash my hands of the whole
affair."

She rose, upon her ultimatum, a-quiver with righteous anger, even to the
realistic cherries in her hat. The girl rose also, outwardly composed,
inwardly dismayed.

"Thank you. Now I know where I stand. And _you_ won't say a word to Roy.
You _mustn't_--really----" She almost pleaded. "He worships his mother
in quite the old-fashioned way. He simply couldn't see--the other point
of view. Besides--he's ill ... unhappy. Whatever _your_ attitude forces
one to say, can only be said by me."

"I don't take orders from my own daughter," Mrs Elton retorted
ungraciously. She was in no humour for bargaining or dictation. "But I'm
sure _I've_ no wish to talk to him. I'll give you a week or ten days to
make your plans. But whenever you have him here, I shall be out. And if
you come to your senses--you can let me know."

On that she departed, leaving Rose feeling battered and shaken, and
horribly uncertain what--in the face of that bombshell--she intended to
do: she, who had made Lance suffer cruelly, and evoked a tragic
situation between him and Roy, largely in order to avoid a clash that
would have been as nothing compared with this...!

Her sensations were in a whirl. But somehow--she _must_ pull it through.
Home life was becoming intolerable. And--for several cogent reasons--she
wanted Roy. If need be, she would tell him, diplomatically; dissociating
herself from her mother's attitude.

And yet--her mother had said things that would stick; hateful things,
that might be true....

Decidedly, she could not write him a long letter: only enough to bring
him back to her in a relenting mood. Sitting down again, she unearthed
from her black-and-silver bag a fountain pen and half a sheet of paper.

"MY DARLING ROY" (she wrote),--

"Your letter _did_ hurt--badly. Perhaps I deserved it. All I can
say till we meet, is--forgive me, if you can, because of Lance.
It's rather odd--though you _are_ my lover, and I suppose you do
care still--I can think of no stronger appeal than that. He cared
so for us both, in his big splendid way. Can't we stand by each
other?

"You ask me to make allowances. Will you be generous, and do the
same on a larger scale for your sincerely loving (and not
altogether worthless)

ROSE?"

FOOTNOTES: