Far more elated with her sister's success than Helen herself, Katy could talk of little else next morning, telling Helen how many complimentary things Wilford had said of her, and how much he had heard others say, while Mark Ray had seemed perfectly fascinated.
"I never thought till last night how nice it would be for you to marry Mark and settle in New York," Katy said, never dreaming how she was wounding Helen, who, but for Mrs. Cameron's charge, would have proclaimed Mark's engagement with Juno.
As it was, she felt the words struggling against her lips; but she forced them back, and tried to laugh at Katy's castles in the air, as she called them.
"You looked beautiful, Wilford said," Katy continued, "and I am so glad, only," and Katy's voice fell, while her eyes rested upon the crib where the baby was sleeping, "only I think Wilford is more anxious than ever for me to go again into society. He will not hear of my staying home for the entire season, as I wish to do, for baby is better to me than all the parties in the world. I am so tired of it all, and have been ever since I was at Newport. I was so vain and silly there, and I have been so sorry since. But that summer cured me entirely, and you don't know how I loathe the very thought of entering society again. For your sake I should be willing to go sometimes, if there were no one else. But Mrs. Banker has kindly offered to take you under her charge, and so there is no necessity for me to matronize you."
Helen laughed merrily at the idea of being matronized by the little girlish creature not yet twenty years of age, kissing fondly the white, thin cheek so much whiter and thinner than it used to be.
"You are confining yourself too much," she said. "You are losing all your color. Fresh air will do you good, even if parties will not. Suppose we drive this afternoon to Marian Hazelton's and show her the baby."
Nothing could please Katy better. Several times since baby's birth she sent a message to Fourth Street, begging of Marian to come and see her treasure, and once, urged by her entreaties, Wilford himself had written a brief note asking that Miss Hazleton would call if perfectly convenient. But there had always been some excuse, some plea of work, some putting off the coming, until Katy feared that something might he wrong, and entered heartily into Helen's propositions. It was a pleasant winter's day, and toward the middle of the afternoon the Cameron carriage stopped before the humble dwelling where Marian Hazleton was living.