s round Thurwell Court, out in
the open country with her thoughts. This town season with its monotonous
round of gayety was nothing to her now. More than ever, in the enlarged
and sweeter life which seemed opening up before her, she saw the
littleness and enervating insipidity of it all. She would go down home,
and take some books--the books he was fond of--and sit out on the cliffs
by the sea and read and dream, and think over all he had said to her,
and look forward to his coming; it should be there he would find her.
They two alone would stand together under the blue sky, and wander about
in the sunshine over the blossoming moors. Would not this be better than
meeting him again in a crowded London drawing-room? She knew that he
would like it best.

So when Lady Thurwell returned from her party, and was sitting in her
room in a very becoming dressing gown, yawning and thinking over the
events of the evening, there was a little tap at the door, and Helen
entered, similarly attired.

"Please tell me all about it," she begged, drawing up a chair to the
fire. "My headache is quite gone."

"So I should imagine," remarked Lady Thurwell. "I never saw you look
better. What have you been doing to yourself, child? You look like
Aphrodite 'new bathed in Paphian wells.'"

"If you mean to insinuate that I've had a bath," laughed Helen, "I admit
it. Now, tell me all about this evening."

Which of course Lady Thurwell did, and found a good deal to say about
the dresses and the menu.

"By the bye," she wound up, with a curious look at her niece, "Sir Allan
Beaumerville was there, and seemed a good deal disappointed at the
absence of a certain young lady."

"Indeed!" answered Helen. "That was very nice of him. And now, aunt, do
you know what I came in to say to you?"

Lady Thurwell shook her head.

"Haven't any idea, Helen. Has anyone been making love to you?"

Helen shook her head, but the color gathered in her cheeks, and she took
up a screen, as though to protect her face from the fire.

"I want to go home, aunt. Don't look so startled, please. I heard from
papa this morning, and he's not very well, and Lord Thurwell comes back
to-morrow, so you won't be lonely, and I've really quite made my mind
up. Town is very nice, but I like the country best."

"Like the country best in May!" Lady Thurwell gasped. "My dear child,
have you taken leave of your senses?"

"Not quite, aunt," Helen answered, smiling. "Only it is as I