ght not care
to join them. But he did, and when the verse came around to Helen he
quickly drew his chair near to hers, and taking one side of her book,
performed his part, while Helen's face grew red as the blossoms in her
hair, and her hand so near to Mark's trembled visibly.

"A right nice chap, and not an atom stuck up," was Aunt Betsy's mental
comment, and then, as he often will do, Satan followed the saintly woman
even to her knees, making her wonder if "Mr. Ray hadn't some notion
after Helen." She hoped not, for she meant that Morris should have
Helen, "though if 'twas to be it was, and she should not go agin' it;"
and while Aunt Betsy thus settled the case, Uncle Ephraim's prayer
ended, and the conscience-smitten woman arose from her knees with the
conviction that "the evil one had got the better of her once," mentally
asking pardon for her wandering thoughts, and promising to do better.

Mark was in no haste to retire, and when Uncle Ephraim offered to
conduct him to his room, he frankly answered that he was not sleepy,
adding, as he turned to Helen: "Please let me stay until Miss Lennox
finishes her socks. There are several pairs yet undarned. I will not
detain you, though," he continued, bowing to Uncle Ephraim, who, a
little uncertain what to do, finally departed, as did Aunt Hannah and
his sister, leaving Helen and her mother to entertain Mark Ray. It had
been Mrs. Lennox's first intention to retire also, but a look from
Helen detained her, and she sat down by that basket of socks, while Mark
wished her away. Still it was proper for her to remain, he knew, and he
respected Helen for keeping her, as he knew she did. A while they talked
of Katy and New York, Mark laboring to convince Helen that its people
were not all heartless and fickle, and at last citing his mother as an
instance.

"You would like mother, Miss Lennox. I hope you will know her some
time," he said, and then they talked of books, Helen forgetting that
Mark was city bred in the interest with which she listened to him, while
Mark forgot that the girl who appreciated and understood his views
almost before they were expressed was country born, and sitting there
before him clad in homely garb, with no ornaments save those of her fine
mind and the sparkling face turned so fully toward him.

"Mark Ray is not like Wilford Cameron," Helen said to herself, when as
the clock was striking eleven she bade him good-night and went up to her
room. "But o