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CHAPTER XIV. HELENA'S DIARY.

To-day I went as usual to the Scripture-class for girls. It was harder
work than ever, teaching without Eunice to help me. Indeed, I felt
lonely all day without my sister. When I got home, I rather hoped that
some friend might have come to see us, and have been asked to stay to
tea. The housemaid opened the door to me. I asked Maria if anybody had
called.

"Yes, miss; a lady, to see the master."

"A stranger?"

"Never saw her before, miss, in all my life." I put no more questions.
Many ladies visit my father. They call it consulting the Minister.
He advises them in their troubles, and guides them in their religious
difficulties, and so on. They come and go in a sort of secrecy. So far
as I know, they are mostly old maids, and they waste the Minister's
time.

When my father came in to tea, I began to feel some curiosity about the
lady who had called on him. Visitors of that sort, in general, never
appear to dwell on his mind after they have gone away; he sees too many
of them, and is too well accustomed to what they have to say. On
this particular evening, however, I perceived appearances that set me
thinking; he looked worried and anxious.

"Has anything happened, father, to vex you?" I said.

"Yes."

"Is the lady concerned in it?"

"What lady, my dear?"

"The lady who called on you while I was out."

"Who told you she had called on me?"

"I asked Maria--"

"That will do, Helena, for the present."

He drank his tea and went back to his study, instead of staying a while,
and talking pleasantly as usual. My respect submitted to his want of
confidence in me; but my curiosity was in a state of revolt. I sent for
Maria, and proceeded to make my own discoveries, with this result:

No other person had called at the house. Nothing had happened, except
the visit of the mysterious lady. "She looked between young and old.
And, oh dear me, she was certainly not pretty. Not dressed nicely, to my
mind; but they do say dress is a matter of taste."

Try as I might, I could get no more than that out of our stupid young
housemaid.

Later in the evening, the cook had occasion to consult me about supper.
This was a person possessing the advantages of age and experience. I
asked if she had seen the lady. The cook's reply promised something new:
"I can't say I saw the lady; but I heard her."

"Do you mean that you heard her speaking?"

"No, miss--crying."

"Where was she cryi