ll I call you Helena? Very well. Now I have got
something else to say; another secret which must be kept from Philip
(I call _him_ by his name now, you see) for a few days more. Your
happiness, my dear, must not depend on his miserly old father. He must
have a little income of his own to marry on. Among the hundreds of
unfortunate wretches whom I have relieved from torture of mind and body,
there is a grateful minority. Small! small! but there they are. I have
influence among powerful people; and I am trying to make Philip private
secretary to a member of Parliament. When I have succeeded, you shall
tell him the good news."

What a vile humor I must have been in, at the time, not to have
appreciated the delightful gayety of this good creature; I went to the
other extreme now, and behaved like a gushing young miss fresh from
school. I kissed her.

She burst out laughing. "What a sacrifice!" she cried. "A kiss for me,
which ought to have been kept for Philip! By-the-by, do you know what I
should do, Helena, in your place? I should take our handsome young man
away from that hotel!"

"I will do anything that you advise," I said.

"And you will do well, my child. In the first place, the hotel is too
expensive for Philip's small means. In the second place, two of the
chambermaids have audaciously presumed to be charming girls; and
the men, my dear--well! well! I will leave you to find that out for
yourself. In the third place, you want to have Philip under your own
wing; domestic familiarity will make him fonder of you than ever. Keep
him out of the sort of company that he meets with in the billiard-room
and the smoking-room. You have got a spare bed here, I know, and your
poor father is in no condition to use his authority. Make Philip one of
the family."

This last piece of advice staggered me. I mentioned the Proprieties.
Mrs. Tenbruggen laughed at the Proprieties.

"Make Selina of some use," she suggested. "While you have got _her_ in
the house, Propriety is rampant. Why condemn poor helpless Philip to
cheap lodgings? Time enough to cast him out to the feather-bed and the
fleas on the night before your marriage. Besides, I shall be in and out
constantly--for I mean to cure your father. The tongue of scandal is
silent in my awful presence; an atmosphere of virtue surrounds Mamma
Tenbruggen. Think of it."

CHAPTER LV. HELENA'S DIARY RESUMED.

I did think of it. Philip came to us, and lived in our house.

Let