ter contact,
so centred, in her significant self, on its one deep preoccupation. But
there was no preoccupation now. Gerald's image passed before her and
meant nothing more than the other things she looked at, while her mind
drifted like an aimless butterfly from the flowers and the prints to the
pretty old mirror--a gift of Gerald's--and hovered over the graceful
feminine objects scattered upon the chairs and tables. The thought of
Gerald stirred nothing more than a mild wonder. What a strange thing,
her whole life hanging on this man, coloured, moulded by him. What did
such a feeling mean? and what had she really wanted of Gerald more than
he had given? She wanted nothing now.

It was with an effort--a painful, dragging effort--that she roused
herself to talk to Aunt Grizel, who appeared at the same time as her
breakfast. Not that she needed to act placidity and acquiescence before
Aunt Grizel; she felt them too deeply to need to act; the pain, perhaps,
came from having nothing else with which to meet her.

Aunt Grizel was amazed, distressed, nearly indignant; she only was not
indignant because of a pity that perplexed even while it soothed her.
She, too, had had a letter from Franklin that morning, and only that
morning had heard of the broken engagement and of how Franklin faced it.
She did not offer to show Helen Franklin's letter, which she held in her
hand, emphasising her perplexity by doubling it over and slapping her
palm with it. 'She sent for him, then.' It was on Althea that she longed
to discharge her smothered anger.

Helen was ready for her; to have to be so ready was part of the pain.
'Well, in a sense perhaps, it was all she could do, wasn't it? when she
found that she couldn't go on with Gerald, and really wanted Franklin at
last.'

'Rather late in the day to come to that conclusion when Mr. Kane was
engaged to another woman.'

'Well--he was engaged to another woman only because Althea wouldn't have
him.'

'Oh!--Ah!' Aunt Grizel was non-committal on this point. 'She lets him
seem to jilt you.'

'Perhaps she does.' Helen's placidity was profound.

'I know Mr. Kane, he wouldn't have been willing to do that unless
pressure had been brought to bear.'

'Pressure was, I suppose; the pressure of his own feeling and of
Althea's unhappiness. He saw that his chance had come and he had to take
it. He couldn't go on and marry me, could he, Aunt Grizel? when he saw
the chance had come for him to take,'