A Colony of Girls Part 37

A CABLEGRAM.

The following morning a note came for Helen by a messenger. It was from Lillian Stuart and, without a word of upbraiding for having been kept in ignorance of Helen's presence in town, begged for a visit from her prior to her return to Hetherford. Helen was fully alive to the generous spirit thus shown toward her, but it did not alter her determination to decline the invitation. She worded her answer as kindly as possible, while making her meaning quite clear. It hurt her cruelly to take this step, and as she sealed the envelope there were tears in her eyes.

It was Mrs. Hill's day at home, and when, after luncheon, Eleanor reminded Helen of this fact, the girl pleaded to be excused, for she felt far too depressed and out of sorts to meet people and to exert herself to entertain them. Mrs. Hill indulgently granted her request, and so she put on her hat and coat and started out for a walk. She strolled down a beautiful avenue, lined with fine residences, succeeded, as she proceeded, by richly and gayly ornamented shops. A crowd of people were pa.s.sing up and down, and the street at times was almost blocked with an innumerable throng of equipages. When Helen had reached a point where this avenue is intersected by another, she crossed the street and entered a square, whose patches of gra.s.s and bare trees were a rest to her eyes after the rows of stately buildings all about her. Children were playing about on the smooth paths, and as Helen looked at them she found herself longing for a sight of dear little Gladys' round, chubby face. Across the street, on the block below, a swinging sign caught her attention. Its staring characters told her that an art exhibition was being held within, and she turned her steps in that direction. As she approached the showy and over-ornamented doorway, she glanced up at a man who was coming toward her. Something in his gait and general bearing struck her as familiar.

As he gained her side he raised his hat, and she saw that he was Valentine Farr.

"Why, Miss Lawrence," he exclaimed, "this is a very great and unexpected pleasure. I had no idea you were in town. How are you?"

"Oh! very well, thank you, but," with a sympathetic glance at his arm, which she saw he carried in a sling, "have you been hurt, Mr. Farr?"

"I had a fall aboard ship on our way to Fort Munroe, and broke my arm.

It was badly attended to, so I got leave to come home and have Dr.

----," naming a well-known surgeon, "fix it up for me."

"I am sorry," said Helen, looking at him with friendly eyes.

"Where were you going, Miss Lawrence?" Farr asked, as the surging throng crowded them close to the railing of a near house.

"I thought I would go in just above here, and see the pictures."

"Will you let me accompany you? I would deem it a very great favor, I have so many questions I want to ask you. I want to know all about Hetherford and everyone there.

"Indeed, I wish you would, and I will gladly satisfy your curiosity.

There is not much to tell of Hetherford save that Jean has gone to Europe."

She tried to mention her sister's name quite naturally, but the color rose to her face, and she could not bring herself to look at her companion.

"To Europe?" he echoed, and could think of nothing further to say.

"I will tell you all about it when we are inside," Helen said to him rather flurriedly.

In a moment more they found themselves in a softly lighted room, the walls of which were lined with paintings. A few people, catalogue in hand, were slowly walking about or standing in groups of two or three before some painting of more than usual merit. Helen gained courage to raise her eyes to her companion's face, and something in its expression made her direct her steps at once toward a huge red ottoman which occupied the center of the room.

"Shall we sit down here and have our talk first?" her voice softly interrogated. "You can show me the pictures afterward."

Farr looked at her gratefully.

"It would be my wish, Miss Helen, but you mustn't let me bore you."

For answer, Helen seated herself and motioned him to take the place beside her.

"Jean went to Europe in October. She had not been at all well, and----"

"Not well?" he interrupted her with an anxious face.

"In fact, she was quite ill," Helen went on gravely, "and she had an opportunity to join some friends of ours who were over there, so we sent her in the hope that the change would benefit her."

"And how is she now?"

"Somewhat better, I think, but not very strong yet."

"I am deeply grieved," he answered, in a voice which his best efforts could not keep very steady.

There was a brief silence, during which Farr's eyes were fixed moodily on the carpet.

"I called to see your sister," he began at length, "the day before we left Hetherford, but she excused herself."

"I don't think Jean knew of your visit."

"You are mistaken," he returned bitterly. "The servant who admitted me had received orders that Miss Jean would not see me, and she made that fact patent to me beyond the possibility of any doubt."

"I cannot help that," said Helen, her determination to pursue the subject struggling against a sudden timidity. "I am sure you are wrong. I remember the afternoon perfectly. Nathalie and I had been to the inn, and when we reached home I found Jean on the sofa in her room, and I asked her if anyone had called, and she said 'no.'"

A puzzled expression crossed Farr's face.

"It is very strange. Why, Miss Helen, I wrote and asked your sister if she would see me, and she replied that she would be at home at the hour I mentioned in my note."

All at once there flashed through Helen's mind a recollection which suggested a most cruel suspicion. Farr was looking straight at her, his honest eyes demanding an honest answer.

"I cannot explain it, Mr. Farr," she said slowly, "but I feel perfectly safe in answering you that it was all a mistake, and that Jean never knew of your call at the manor."

"And what of the message the servant gave me? Forgive me, Miss Helen, if I seem to press you, but this is no light matter to me."

"I am quite sure that Jean never gave that message, although I can give you no further explanation of the matter."

Farr's face went very white, and, as Helen looked at him, she saw how much the past few months had changed him. There were deep lines about his mouth, and his grave eyes were immeasurably sad. Her heart went out to him in sudden sympathy, and she spoke to him with a touch of tenderness in her voice.

"Jean will be with us again at Christmas time, I hope, and then you must see her and let her explain to you how such a mistake was made."

Farr rested his elbow on his knee and dropped his head in his hand.

"If I only felt sure you were right, Miss Helen." He paused a moment, then resumed with deep earnestness, "I cared so much for your sister that the sudden withdrawal of her friendship was a bitter blow to me."

Helen's eyes were downcast, her lips refused to speak. The silence was broken by Farr.

"I think at one time I dreamed she cared for me a little, but my illusion was quickly dispelled."

Another pause of briefer duration, and then he turned to his companion with a question on his lips.

"How was it, Miss Helen? Did I presume too much on your sister's kindness to me? I suppose I must have, although it seems to me that I hardly deserved her excessive coldness and dislike."

Helen, thus put to the test, looked straight up at him, and answered a little tremulously:

"Mr. Farr, Jean always liked you."

He drew a quick sharp breath.