happy little morning together. So long as she is absolutely quiet she
seems quite well. But as you see, any excitement--" Madame gesticulated
eloquently behind Elma's back. "Excitement prostrates you, doesn't it,
dear? We must keep you quite a prisoner for the next few days!"

Mrs Ramsden sat down heavily on a wicker chair, folded her hands on her
sloping lap, and sighed resignedly. Hardly a moment had elapsed since
her arrival, but already her cause was lost. To subject Elma to the
fatigue of returning home would be madness, when even an ordinary
meeting had so disastrous effect; to refuse hospitality so charmingly
offered would be ungracious in the extreme. There was nothing for it
but to submit with a good grace, and submit she did, arranging to send
up a box of clothing later in the afternoon, and promising to drive up
again in a few days' time. "A few days!" She wanted to come every
single morning, but Madame sweetly ignored her hints, and Elma,
brightening into something wonderfully like her old self, declared that
there was not the slightest cause for anxiety.

"I shall be _quite_ well, mother dear!" she murmured affectionately as
the poor lady stooped to kiss her before hurrying away, carefully
mindful of the fare of the waiting fly. "_Quite_ well, and--happy!"
The pink flamed again at that last word, and Madame stroked the soft
cheek caressingly.

"That child is a picture! I love to look at her," she said gushingly,
as the two ladies recrossed the lawn. "How cruel of you to have kept
her to yourself all this time. Really, do you know, I hardly realised
that you _had_ a daughter. But we are going to alter all that, aren't
we? So sweet of you to trust her to me!"

Madame's conversation was a mixture of questions and exclamations, but
she rarely paused for a reply. She prattled unceasingly as she saw her
guest into her fly, and watched her drive down the avenue. Poor old
Goody Ramsden; she was a worthy old dear! Wrapped up in that child;
terrified to move her, yet terrified to leave her behind! Madame smiled
in amused understanding of the good lady's scruples. What duckings and
cacklings would go on in the parlours of the Park! What fears and
forebodings would be experienced for the safety of the dove in the
eagle's nest! Out of a pure spirit of bravado she was inclined to keep
the child as long as possible; and the fact of Geoffrey's obvious
admiration only strengthened her determination