at it's all he can do now,' said Aunt Grizel; 'that he is removing
himself.'

It was her tribute to Franklin, and Helen, even for the sake of all the
delicate appearances, couldn't protest against such a tribute. She was
glad that Franklin was to know, from Aunt Grizel, that he, himself, was
regretted. So that she said, 'Yes; I'm glad you can tell him that.'

It was at this moment of complete understanding that the maid came in
and said that Mr. Digby was downstairs and wanted to see Miss Helen. He
would wait as long as she liked. There was then a little pause, and Aunt
Grizel saw a greater weariness pass over her niece's face.

'Very well,' she spoke for her to the maid. 'Tell Mr. Digby that some
one will be with him directly,' and, as the door closed: 'You're not fit
to see him this morning, Helen,' she said; 'not fit to pour balms into
his wounds. Let me do it for you.'

Helen lay gazing before her, and she was still silent. She did not know
what she wanted; but she did know that she did not want to see Gerald.
The thought of seeing him was intolerable. 'Will you pour balms?' she
said. 'I'm afraid you are not too sorry for Gerald.'

'Well, to tell you the truth, I'm not,' said Aunt Grizel, smiling a
little grimly. 'He takes things too easily, and I confess that it does
rather please me to see him, for once in his life, "get left." He needed
to "get left."'

'Well, you won't tell him that, if I let you go to him instead of me?
You will be nice to him?'

'Oh, I'll be nice enough. I'll condole with him.'

'Tell him,' said Helen, as Aunt Grizel moved resolutely to the door,
'that I can't see anybody; not for a long time. I shall go away, I
think.'

CHAPTER XXX.

Miss Grizel had known Gerald all his life, and yet she was not intimate
with him, and during the years that Helen had lived with her she had
come to feel a certain irritation against him. Her robust and caustic
nature had known no touch of jealousy for the place he held in Helen's
life. It was dispassionately that she observed, and resented on Helen's
account, the exacting closeness of a friendship with a man who, she
considered, was not worth so much time and attention. She suspected
nothing of the hidden realities of Helen's feeling, yet she did suspect,
acutely, that, had it not been for Gerald, Helen might have had more
time for other things. It was Gerald who monopolised and took for
granted. He came, and Helen was always ready. Miss Griz