one's thoughts, and give a breath of
sweetness.

The third was from Mrs. Aldred, who would be glad to do anything for her
relative. She was fond of girls, especially those who were bright and
capable of advancement. She would insure her a home and training for the
next two years, and fit her for either position, look after her
clothing, and make her as happy as possible. Hers was in reality a home
school. Her circle was complete with thirty boarders, all of whom were
of unexceptional character, and Mrs. Van Dorn need not be afraid to
trust her _protegee_ at Aldred House, nor fear that any confidence would
be misplaced.

She had meant to lay the matter before Helen this very afternoon, then
she suddenly changed her mind. If the examination went against her, she
would be the more grateful, if in her favor, it would be a card at Mrs.
Aldred's. She would let the others plan, and amuse herself with
upsetting their confident arrangements.

So they talked, instead, about places. Helen never tired of listening.
Her vivid imagination pictured the scenes, while here she smiled a
little, there her straight brows drew together in a little frown of
condemnation, then the heroic appealed to her. It was so pretty to note
the changes. Two years from this time would she be anxious about gowns
and trinkets and frivolity of all kinds? Girls were risky creatures
before their characters were really formed. Yes, it would be wise not to
commit one's self too far to draw back, or substitute other plans.

"When is your old lady going away?" asked Uncle Jason, when he came in
on Saturday. "Mother thinks she can't spare you more than next week.
There's the house to clean, and the weddin' cake to make, and the
children have to have new clothes, and goodness only knows all."

"But I was to have her a week in September," said Mrs. Dayton. "If Jenny
is to be home----"

"Well, she'll be over to her house gettin' ready. We didn't make any
such fuss when we were married. We got spliced and looked after things
afterward. Well, Helen--how is it? I'm afraid you're 'most spoiled for
living among common folks any more."

Helen's face was scarlet, as she glanced into this roughened sun-burned
one.

"You've come to be such a lady," he went on admiringly. "Mebbe it wasn't
for the best. You really ought to be somewhere else and grow up into the
kind of women there is in stories. And your hands are so soft, there
isn't a freckle in your face. There's m