the entire neighbourhood. Of course, I don't know whether Mr.
Ollerenshaw would like it."

"Oh!" said Helen, without blenching, "uncle would do as I wish."

She mused, in silence, during a number of seconds.

"The idea doesn't appeal to you?" Sarah queried, disappointment in her
tones.

"Yes, it does," said Helen. "But I must think it over. Now, would you
care to see the rest of the house?"

"I should love to. Oh dear, I've left my handkerchief with my purse in
the drawing-room."

"Have mine!" said Helen, promptly.

But even after this final proof of intimate friendship, there still
remained an obstinate trifle of insincerity in their relations that
afternoon. Helen was sure that Sarah Swetnam had paid the call specially
to say something, and that the something had not yet been said. And the
apprehension of an impending scene gradually took possession of her
nerves and disarranged them. When they reached the attics, and were
enjoying the glorious views of the moorland in the distance and of
Wilbraham Water in the immediate foreground, Helen said, very suddenly:

"Will the rector be in this afternoon?"

"I should say so. Why?"

"I was thinking we might walk down there together, and I could suggest
to him at once about having the concert here."

Sarah clapped her hands. "Then you've decided?"

"Certainly."

"How funny you are, Nell, with your decisions!"

In Helen's bedroom, amid her wardrobe, there was no chance of dangerous
topics, the attention being monopolised by one subject, and that a safe
one.

At last they went out together, two models of style and deportment, and
Helen pulled to the great front door with a loud echoing clang.

"Fancy that place being all empty. Aren't you afraid of sleeping there
while your uncle is away?"

"No," said Helen. "But I _should_ be afraid if Georgiana wasn't afraid."

After this example of courageous introspection, a silence fell upon the
pair; the silence held firm while they got out of the grounds and
crossed Oldcastle-road, and took to the Alls field-path, from which a
unique panorama of Bursley--chimneys, kilns, canals, railways, and
smoke-pall--is to be obtained. Helen was determined not to break the
silence. And then came the moment when Sarah Swetnam could no longer
suffer the silence; and she began, very cautiously:

"I suppose you've heard all about Andrew and Emanuel Prockter?"

Helen perceived that she had not been mistaken, and that the scene was