y carry out Mr. Dunboyne's views
in her personal appearance is, I regret to say, what I can't deny.
But as to the other qualifications, how hopeful is the prospect! Good
principles, and good temper? Ha! ha! Helena has the principles of
Jezebel, and the temper of Lady Macbeth."

After dashing off this striking sketch of character, the fair artist
asked to look at my letter again, and observed that the address was
wanting. "I can set this right for you," she resumed, "thanks, as
before, to my sweet Euneece. And (don't be in a hurry) I can make myself
useful in another way. Oh, how I do enjoy making myself useful! If
you trust your letter to the basket in the hall, Helena's lovely
eyes--capable of the meanest conceivable actions--are sure to take a
peep at the address. In that case, do you think your letter would get to
London? I am afraid you detect a faint infusion of spitefulness in that
question. Oh, for shame! I'll post the letter myself."

CHAPTER XXXVII. THE SHAMELESS SISTER.

For some reason, which my unassisted penetration was unable to discover,
Miss Helena Gracedieu kept out of my way.

At dinner, on the day of my arrival, and at breakfast on the next
morning, she was present of course; ready to make herself agreeable in
a modest way, and provided with the necessary supply of cheerful
small-talk. But the meal having come to an end, she had her domestic
excuse ready, and unostentatiously disappeared like a well-bred young
lady. I never met her on the stairs, never found myself intruding on
her in the drawing-room, never caught her getting out of my way in the
garden. As much at a loss for an explanation of these mysteries as I
was, Miss Jillgall's interest in my welfare led her to caution me in a
vague and general way.

"Take my word for it, dear Mr. Governor, she has some design on you.
Will you allow an insignificant old maid to offer a suggestion? Oh,
thank you; I will venture to advise. Please look back at your experience
of the very worst female prisoner you ever had to deal with--and be
guided accordingly if Helena catches you at a private interview."

In less than half an hour afterward, Helena caught me. I was writing
in my room, when the maidservant came in with a message: "Miss
Helena's compliments, sir, and would you please spare her half an hour,
downstairs?"

My first excuse was of course that I was engaged. This was disposed of
by a second message, provided beforehand, no doubt, for an a