hall he left the room, holding the
door for Aunt Betsy, who wept like a little child at the sight of Helen,
accusing herself of being a fool, an old fool, who ought to be shut up
in the insane asylum, but persisting in saying she was going home that
very day without seeing Katy at all. "If she was here I'd like it, but I
shan't go there, for I know Wilford don't want me. Say, Helen, don't you
think he'll be ashamed of me and wish I was in Guinea?" she asked as her
desire to see Katy grew stronger, but was met and combated with her
dread of Wilford!

Helen could not tell her he would be ashamed, but Aunt Betsy knew she
meant it, and with a fresh gush of tears she gave the project up
entirely, telling Helen all she did not already know of her trip to New
York, her visit to the opera, her staying with the Tubbses and her
meeting with Mark, the best young chap she ever saw, not even excepting
Morris. "If he was my own son, he couldn't be kinder," she added, "and I
mistrust he hopes to be my nephew. You can't do better, and if he
offers, take him."

Helen's cheeks were crimson as she waived this part of the conversation
and wished aloud that she had come around in the carriage, as she could
thus have taken Aunt Betsy over the city before the train would leave.

"Mark spoke of that when he heard I was going to-day," Aunt Betsy said;
"I'll warrant you he'll tend to it."

Aunt Betsy was right, for when Mark and his mother joined their guests
and learned that Aunt Betsy's intention was unchanged, he suggested the
ride and offered the use of their carriage. Helen did not decline the
offer, and ere half an hour had passed, Aunt Betsy, with her satchel,
umbrella and capbox, was comfortably adjusted in Mrs. Banker's carriage
with Helen beside her, while Mark bade his coachman drive wherever Miss
Lennox wished to go, taking care to reach the train in time.

They were tearful thanks which Aunt Betsy gave to her kind friends as
she was driven away, going first to the Bowery to say good-by and leave
the packages of fruits and herbs, lest the Tubbses should "think her
suddenly stuck up."

"Would you mind taking 'Tilda in? It would please her mightily," Aunt
Betsy whispered, as they were alighting in front of Mr. Peter Tubbs';
and as the result of this suggestion the carriage, when again it emerged
into Broadway, held Mattie Tubbs, happier, prouder than she had been in
all her life before, while the gratified mother at home felt am