was an invalid, and
even now she, with aims and purposes settled on a higher plane, might be
compelled to spend years of waiting in which there would be no pleasure,
no satisfaction. Could she do it? Had he the right to ask it?

She was coming nearer and nearer to the momentous decision. Oh, _was_
she leaving the dear, bright, fascinating schooldays behind her, the
friends of girlhood, the ambitious climbing where it seemed almost as if
one had winged feet, the delightful life with its discussions, its
shaping of tastes, its comparison of heroes, when they almost quarreled,
each being so eager and confident of her own, the lovely walks,
unearthing the secrets of nature growths, the pretty, touching
confidences so much to girls, the expansion everywhere; two splendid,
joyous years of improvement, draining the real secrets of knowledge to
help explain the mysteries of life,--was it all over?

They were coming nearer to all the Hopes. A hard little smile settled
about her lips. How queer they should have called it Hope, this dead and
alive place, where hope could be so easily crushed? Would she abandon
hope when she entered?

They steamed into the station, backed a little for some cause, then came
forward again. She was on the off-side so she need not look out of the
window. She waited for the small procession to pass out of the aisle,
then she picked up her satchel and her precious box. Mr. Warfield stood
watching, and her heart beat more freely. He took her satchel when the
conductor had helped her down, and studied her face eagerly.

"I began to wonder if you were on the train. Are you tired? It is a long
journey."

The friendly voice seemed to restore her.

"Not especially tired," she answered slowly.

They walked on in silence, but a question trembled about her lips.

"Were you tremendously surprised? Of course, one couldn't give
particulars in a telegram."

"Why--yes, after believing him dead all these years. Is he--is he well?"

That was not what she wanted to ask.

"Yes, I think so. Mrs. Dayton said he had not changed very much. He is
fifty-four and looks seventy. But, oh, the learning! He certainly has
'ransacked the ages.'"

"And I suppose it will seem strange to him to have a big girl?" There
was a little falter in Helen's voice, and she flushed and paled.

"Well--he almost expected you had gone through college," and Mr.
Warfield gave his shoulders a shrug. "I can tell you he has no faith in
mode