The Headlands, as he had promised.
But just as my visit was drawing to an end he came, and kept me on for
the week of his stay. I had become used to the routine of life at Mr.
Raymond's, and had again and again wondered if Mr. Floyd's presence
there would make any difference; but the change in the entire aspect
of the household after the advent of my guardian absolutely startled
me. Mr. Raymond was again master of the house, and little Helen
was left free of all care and responsibility. There seemed a tacit
understanding between Mills and the child and her grandfather that Mr.
Floyd was to gain not the faintest idea of the usual state of things.
Mr. Raymond wore a dignity which was not without its pathetic side: he
no longer touched wine, although a different vintage was offered with
every course, and his selfish, peevish ways seemed entirely forgotten.
Helen had grown steadily stronger every week of my stay, and now that
her father was with her she rallied at once into a happy, careless
state of mind which made her almost as light-hearted a child as one
could wish. She had none of Georgy's gay boisterousness, but her
blitheness of heart seemed like a lambent fire playing over profound
depths of gladness and security.

Mr. Floyd was scarcely well pleased to find Georgy at The Headlands,
and at once observed with solicitude the influence she had gained over
his little girl. Georgy's idea of power was to put her foot on the
neck of her subjects and hold them at her mercy; and Mr. Floyd showed
his displeasure at her course by at once withdrawing Helen almost
entirely from her society. Georgy rebelled defiantly at this; and I
too felt keenly the injustice of leaving her so utterly alone as we
did day after day when Mr. Floyd, Helen and I went riding through the
woods together. Directly after breakfast my guardian and I mounted our
horses, and Helen her pony, and off we started for the hills, where
the keen autumn winds would put color into the little girl's pale
cheeks. Far below us we could see the curving reaches of beach and
promontory, the sparkling fall of the low surf, and in the offing
the white-winged ships bringing all the wonders of the East and the
richness of the tropics to our barren New England shores. What wonder
if I have never forgotten a single incident of those too swiftly
succeeding days? The glow, the enthusiasm, the wild gush of free,
untrammelled enjoyment, were to go from me presently, and to return