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When Helen's quick eyes took in this last, she turned away in horror. That motionless form might be Brandt's. Remorse and womanly sympathy surged over her, for bad as the man had shown himself, he had loved her. She followed the borderman, trying to compose herself. As they neared Colonel Zane's cabin she saw her father, Will, the colonel, Betty, Nell, Mrs.
Thurber Wade, whom Phil was pleased to call Clover's young man, the son of a rich New York banker, whose ill-health had brought him to live in St. Helen's, and who had built a handsome house on the principal street. This gilded youth had several times sent roses to Clover, a fact which Phil had noticed, and upon which he was fond of commenting.
So, for the second time in her life, she entered the house alone. The day of her visit was exquisite, and the last of unclouded happiness that she was to have for many months. Her anxiety about Helen's extraordinary absence was still dormant, and as for a possible brush with Miss Avery-that only gave zest to the expedition. She had also eluded Dolly's invitation to luncheon.
By way of pleasing the girls and doing honor to their "beau," as she called Wilford, Aunt Betsy had donned her very best attire, wearing the slate-colored pongee dress, bought twenty years before, and actually sporting a set of Helen's cast off hoops, which being quite too large for the dimensions of her scanty skirt, gave her anything but the stylish appearance she intended.
As Harley quitted the room, Helen's pale sweet face looked forth from a door in the same corridor. She advanced towards him timidly. "May I speak with you?" she said, in almost inaudible accents; "I have been listening for your footstep." Harley looked at her steadfastly. Then, without a word, he followed her into the room she had left, and closed the door.
Presently, having finished her letters, Lady Davenant rang for him. Helen's eyes were upon Carlos the moment he entered, and her thoughts did not escape observation. "You are wrong, Helen," said Lady Davenant, as she lighted the taper to seal her letters.
"I'll do it, miss," said Welch, "this very night." Hazel said nothing, but pondered. Accordingly, that very evening a piece of stout twine, with a stone at the end of it, hung down from the roof of Helen's house; and this twine clove the air until it reached a ring upon the mainmast of the cutter; thence it descended, and was to be made fast to something or somebody.
Above all things he wished to assure Helen's material safety until such time as he should be quite certain of himself. In pursuance of this idea he had gradually evolved what seemed to him an excellent plan. He had already perfected it by correspondence with Mrs. Renwick.
She was suddenly roused from her painful reverie by the pulling up of Helen's ponies, with much clatter and wriggling recoil, close beside her, making more fuss with their toy-carriage than the mightiest of tractive steeds with the chariot of pomp.
"Attention!" shouted Barth, halting and making a drive at something with his ax. The line stopped. Stampa's ringing voice came over Helen's head: "What is that ahead there?" "A new fall, I think. We ought to leave the moraine a little lower down; but this was not here when we ascended." How either man, Stampa especially, could see anything at all, was beyond the girl's comprehension.
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