The Awakening of Helena Richie - Page 30/229

"Oh, Maggie, you oughtn't to! I oughtn't to let you. Maggie, look

here: you will be careful, won't you?"

"Now, you go right along back to your brother," the woman commanded

smiling. "I'm goin' to get into my clothes; t'won't do me a bit of

harm."

And Helena, protesting and joyous, fled to her room and to her mirror.

She flung off her cambric morning dress and ran to hunt in her

wardrobe for something pretty. With girlish hurry she pulled her hair

down, braided it afresh, and fastened the burnished plats around her

head like a wreath; then she brushed the soft locks in the nape of her

neck about her finger, and let them fall into loose curls. She dressed

with breathless haste, and when she finished, stood for a minute, her

lip between her teeth, staring at herself in the glass. And as she

stared her face fell; for as the color and sparkle faded a little,

care suddenly looked out of the leaf-brown eyes--care and something

like fright. But instantly drawing in her breath, she flung her head

up as one who prepares for battle. When she went down-stairs and found

Mr. Pryor waiting for her in the parlor, the sparkle had all come

back. She had put on a striped silk dress, faint rose and green, made

very full in the skirt; her flat lace collar was fastened by a little

old pin--an oval of pearls holding a strand of hair like floss-silk.

"Why, Nelly," her visitor said, "you look younger every time I see

you."

She swept him a great courtesy, making her dress balloon out about

her; then she clasped her hands at her throat, her chin resting on the

fluff of her white undersleeves, and looked up at him with a delighted

laugh. "We are not very old, either of us; I am thirty-three and you

are only forty-six--I call that young. Oh, Lloyd, I was so low-

spirited this morning; and now--you are here!" She pirouetted about

the room in a burst of gayety.

As he watched her through half-shut eyes, the bored good humor in his

face sharpened into something keener; he caught her hand as she

whirled past, drawing her close to him with a murmured caress. She,

pausing in her joy, looked at him with sudden intentness.

"Have you heard anything of--Frederick?"

At which he let her go again and answered curtly: "No; nothing.

Perfectly well, the last I heard. In Paris, and enjoying himself in

his own peculiar fashion."

She drew in her breath and turned her face away; they were both

silent. Then she said, dully, that she never heard any news. "Mr.

Raynor sends me my accounts every three months, but he never says

anything about--Frederick."