wered Helena, playing her best
card at once.

Mrs. Hallam met it with a scornful laugh. "Old maid!" she cried.
"That is a preposterous idea you've got out of your comic papers."

"They're all I've ever read, histories and them," Helena said mildly;
raising who shall say how many bitter doubts in the breast of a
theorist.

"You're nothing but a child, my darling girl," the mother said more
gently; "and even if you weren't, there's no disgrace in being what you
call an old maid. Some of the world's best women have been that.
You've got to think of far more serious matters than that before you
can possibly decide on such a step as marriage;" and searching
frantically for objections which she felt sure must exist, she fell
back on her first thought. "What do you know about Mr. Brett?"

"I liked him better than any of the men I've met."

"You've not met _any_ yet," snapped Mrs. Hallam; she had no patience
with this nonsensical idea. Then, as her girl was silent, she realised
that here too she had flung out a taunt mainly against her own theories.

Mrs. Hallam loved Helena with real devotion, and it was a torture now
to feel that possibly her care had all been a mistake; had all been
shipwrecked by the unexpected action of an extraordinary man. She knew
for a fact--she had taken care--that she and he had not indulged in any
sentimental rubbish. Mr. Brett had seemed to hate all that, and she
had for this very reason asked him round so often. Helena and he had
been like boy and girl, brother and sister, playing games or finding
their dear jelly-fish and crabs together, whilst he had talked to her
in just the way to broaden her views out a bit yet not stretch them too
far. And now----!

It really was provoking. The silly girl--all girls were silly--would
of course exalt him into the fine figure of her first love, the real
man for her, the man that she was not allowed to marry....

Mrs. Hallam, always frail and white, seemed to shrink visibly beneath
this trouble. She held out a thin hand to the puzzled Helena, and drew
her down beside her on the sofa.

"Look here, dear," she said gently; "I want to talk seriously to you.
Life isn't so easy as you think. I've kept you here, safe from all
worries and responsibilities and guarded you so that everything has
seemed quite simple; but there _are_ worries and responsibilities.
You've got to live your life now, you see, Helena, and you will have to
learn the habit o