hole she was
satisfied, for she liked to accept his fancy that the two were
indissoluble. He wrote delightful letters, witty and graceful, full of
interesting gossip, and with many personal and tender pages. But the
novelty of his absence had worn off some time since, and she longed
impatiently for his return. She was caught in the whirl of social
activity, and was the restless Helena's constant companion;
nevertheless, there were lonely hours, when the future with its
imperious demands routed the past.

The engagement was still a profound secret; Magdalena had told Helena at
once, but it was unguessed by anyone else. Mrs. Yorba had insisted that
her daughter should have one brilliant girl season. The truth was that
she was delighted at Don Roberto's sudden interest in the world of
fashion, and was determined to make the most of it. He developed,
indeed, into an untiring seeker after the innocent amusements of his
wife's exclusive kingdom, and had given a fashionable tailor permission
to bring his wardrobe down to date; he had hitherto worn clothes of the
same cut for twenty years. The girls always gave him a square dance;
during the round dances he stood against the wall with Mr. Polk and
Colonel Belmont, and fairly beamed with good-will. The Yorbas seldom
spent an evening at home unless their own doors were open, and Don
Roberto consented to two parties and several large dinners. Mrs. Yorba
shuddered sometimes at the weakening of her inborn and long-nurtured
economical faculty, but thoroughly enjoyed herself--forming an important
item of the dado--and hoped that her husband's enthusiasm would endure.

VI

"I'm not a bit blase," remarked Helena, "but I'd like to be engaged for
a change--not to last, of course. Only I can't make up my mind which of
the four; and whichever I choose the other three will be so
disagreeable. If I could only let them know I didn't mean it,--at least
wouldn't later,--but that would never do, because I shouldn't enjoy
myself unless I really thought I was in earnest. Besides, I haven't been
able to fall in love with any of them yet."

"You don't really mean what you say when you talk that way, do you,
Helena?" asked Magdalena, with much concern. "It would be so--so
unprincipled; and I can't bear to think that of you."

"But, 'Lena dearest, I should be in earnest for the time being; I'm just
talking from the outside, as it were. At the time I should think I
really meant it. Otherwi