Philip rather gains upon me; he appears to
have some capacity for feeling ashamed of himself. On the other hand,
I regard the discovery of an intimate friendship existing between
Mrs. Tenbruggen and Miss Jillgall with the gloomiest views. Is this
formidable Masseuse likely to ply her trade in the country towns? And is
it possible that she may come to this town? God forbid!

Of the other letters in the collection, I need take no special notice.
I returned the whole correspondence to Helena, and waited to hear from
her.

The one recent event in Mr. Gracedieu's family, worthy of record, is of
a melancholy nature. After paying his visit to-day, the doctor has left
word that nobody but the nurse is to go near the Minister. This seems to
indicate, but too surely, a change for the worse.

Helena has been away all the evening at the Girls' School. She left a
little note, informing me of her wishes: "I shall expect to be favored
with your decision to-morrow morning, in my housekeeping room."

At breakfast time, the report of the poor Minister was still
discouraging. I noticed that Helena was absent from the table. Miss
Jillgall suspected that the cause was bad news from Mr. Philip Dunboyne,
arriving by that morning's post. "If you will excuse the use of strong
language by a lady," she said, "Helena looked perfectly devilish when
she opened the letter. She rushed away, and locked herself up in her
own shabby room. A serious obstacle, as I suspect, in the way of her
marriage. Cheering, isn't it?" As usual, good Selina expressed her
sentiments without reserve.

I had to keep my appointment; and the sooner Helena Gracedieu and I
understood each other the better.

I knocked at the door. It was loudly unlocked, and violently thrown
open. Helena's temper had risen to boiling heat; she stammered with rage
when she spoke to me.

"I mean to come to the point at once," she said.

"I am glad to hear it, Miss Helena."

"May I count on your influence to help me? I want a positive answer."

I gave her what she wanted. I said: "Certainly not."

She took a crumpled letter from her pocket, opened it, and smoothed it
out on the table with a blow of her open hand.

"Look at that," she said.

I looked. It was the letter addressed to Mr. Dunboyne the elder, which
I had written for Mr. Gracedieu--with the one object of preventing
Helena's marriage.

"Of course, I can depend on you to tell me the truth?" she continued.

"Without fe