en?" I did not say any more. Helen was a tall, slim
girl now, but with a frigid air about her which indisposed me to
admiration. How different from Georgy, whose smile and glance thawed
reserve and drew me close to her! I did not define the meaning of the
warm lovelight in her eyes, nor ask whether it was a perpetual fire, a
lure to all men, or merely a sign for me. Sitting beside her, I was
conscious of an atmosphere emanating as it were from the warmth and
kindness of her smile and glance--an atmosphere which in itself was
delicious and complete, predisposing me to dreamy, happy silence. To be
near her was to feel in a high degree the beauty and power of woman: full
of loveliness as were the arch, mobile face, the glorious hair, the eyes
with their life and tenderness, the perfect lips, they were but a small
part of her charm, which seemed to breathe from the statuesque pose of
bust and neck and head, and the supple grace of her every movement.

She questioned me minutely concerning Mr. Floyd. He was no longer in
office now, but was spending his time at The Headlands with Mr. Raymond
and Helen until I should be ready in July to sail with him for Europe. It
was quite easy to perceive that the moment we touched upon this new
subject Georgy's composure and gayety were alike banished, and as I knew
that reasons existed which made The Headlands and Helen's society
forbidden ground for her, I would have changed to other topics; but she
kept on pertinaciously in her questionings until, with all my wish to
please her, I grew weary.

It was quite as well, however, that my first enchantment should be a
little abated before I left her, and I went away thinking for a time more
about her curiosity concerning Helen and Mr. Floyd than about the rose on
her cheeks and the light in her eyes. I had no intention of bidding her a
final good-bye when I shook hands with her, but it fell out that more than
two years were to pass before I looked upon her face again.

I think my mental equilibrium was perhaps a little disturbed by this
interview with her. She had--perhaps carelessly, perhaps with some faint
suggestion of truth--said some things which I could not forget. Had she
not told me she liked me better than anybody else? What did she mean? how
much did she mean? I knew that she spoke heedlessly at times--that she
possessed no intellectual discipline, no mental accuracy to measure the
force of her words. I knew, too, that coquetry and