ut ugly things--inartistic things, _jar_! They
make me feel cross and discontented, while beauty is a joy! I need not
become proud and self-engrossed because the things around me are
beautiful and rich with associations. On the contrary, they ought to do
me good. I'd _love_ them so, and be so thankful, that I should want
other people to enjoy them, too. It isn't riches themselves that one
cares for--it is the things that riches can give!"

Madame had been watching the girl's face as she spoke, her own
expression kindling in sympathy with views so entirely in accordance
with her own, but at the last sentence her brows knitted.

"It's not a case of riches, my dear!" she said quickly. "I don't think
you understand the position. Geoffrey is a poor man. The estate brings
in little more than half what it did in his father's time, and the
expense of keeping it up increases rather than diminishes, as the
buildings grow older. He ought to marry money. All these years we have
lived in the expectation of a marriage which would pay up old scores,
and put things on a better basis for the future. If he marries a girl
without money he will have to face constant anxiety and trouble."

Elma turned to her mother, her delicate brow puckered in anxiety.

"I shall have _some_ money, shan't I, mother? You told me that father
left some provision for me on my marriage!"

"You are to have three thousand pounds paid down if you marry with my
consent. My income is largely derived from an annuity, Mrs Greville,
but there will be about another five thousand to come to Elma after
death."

Madame bowed her head in gracious patronage.

"Very nice, I'm sure! A very nice little sum for pin money, but quite
useless for our purposes. Don't hate me, Elma--I am the most
unmercenary of women--Geoffrey will tell you that I am always getting
into debt!--but when a man is the owner of a property--which has
descended to him from generations of ancestors, his first duty is to it.
_Noblesse oblige_! It is not right to allow it to fall into disrepair
for a matter of sentiment!"

Elma sat with downcast looks considering the point, while Geoffrey
devoured her face with hungry eyes. Mrs Ramsden's face had flushed to
a painful red, and she passed her handkerchief nervously round her lips.
She could bear to torture her child herself, but not to sit by and hear
another woman follow in her own footsteps.

The silence lasted for a long minute bef