Franklin Kane

did come, her bedroom and her sitting-room were always waiting for her, as was Aunt Grizel with her cheerful 'Well, my dear, glad to see you back again.' Their mutual respect and trust wer

s, a row of little fruit-trees, black-branched but brightly foliaged, and high walls that looked as though they were built out of sooty plum cake. Aunt Grizel's cat, Pharaoh, sleek, black, and stalwart, often lay on the grass

ike Aunt Grizel, he trusted and respected her deeply, though again, like Aunt Grizel, he did not, perhaps, know her quite down to the ground. He thought, however, that he did; he knew that Helen was as intimate

dered it kept its air of fashionable grace. His large, long nose, his finely curved lips and eyelids, had a delicately carved look, as though the sculptor had taken great care over the details of his face. His brown eyes had thick, upturned lashes, and were often in expres

nd, by the expense it had entailed upon her, had deprived her of the new hat and dress that she had hoped in Paris to secure. Talking of Paris led to the letter she had sent him fo

ut I believe she will take Merriston. She wanted to take it a

p the dear old place f

her that I loved the place and hadn't been there for years, an

said Ger

She is a dear little p

uldn't take a fancy to you,' said Gerald, smil

And she seemed to get tremendously interested in me. But then, she seemed capable of getting treme

became gr

suppose

tereste

tte before answering. 'Well, no; I can't say that s

rom the case she offered. He was fond of such desultory pursuit of

rdly illuminating: 'S

her to take such an interest

dn't felt her a person so easily affected. She had-how can I put it?-it seems brutal when she is such a dear-but she had so little stuff in her; it was as if she had to find it all the time in other

and say them! Poor Miss Jakes!-that's

is

young,

s kept all her illusions intact-a queer mixture of information and innocence. It's difficult to keep one's mind on what she's saying; there is never any background t

. 'How you must have

it. But I did like her, you know. I liked her very

ougie; I'm afraid

ld refreshment, not altogether tasteless, and not at all intoxicating.

fearfully hard up. I suppose it would only be a

ike it, but I'll do my best to make her stay on if she does, and with a cl

that she'd be a grea

well. She will be here next week, you k

that I'm particularly eager to me

of me,' said Helen; on which he owned that, with that compul

him with a livelihood, and he would have been seriously put to it had not his father's death left him a tiny income, while a half-informal secretaryship to a political friend, offered him propitiously at the same time, gave him leisure for his painting as well as for a good many other pleasant things. He had leisure, in especial, for going from country-house to country-house, where he was immensely in demand, and where he hunted, danced, and acted in private theatricals-usually in company with his cousin Helen. Helen's position in life was very much like his own, but that she hadn't even an informal secretaryship to depend upon. He had known Helen all his life, and she was almost like a sister, only nicer; for he associated sisters with his own brood, who were lean, hunting ladies, pleasant, but monotonous and inarticulate. Helen was very articulate and very various. He loved to look at her, as he loved to look at birds and flowers, and he loved to talk with her. He had many opportunities t

ng self. It was her aspect of mystery and that faint hint of bitterness that he found so charming; Helen herself he never thought of as mysterious. Mystery was a mere outward asset of her beauty, like the powdery surface of a moth's wing. He didn't think of Helen as mysterious, perhaps b

omrade and counsellor. He depended upon her more than upon any one. Comically helpless as h

gauge the effect upon him of the pleading coquetry at which they were such adepts. She could gauge them the better, no doubt, from having herself no trace of coquetry. Men often liked her, but often found her cold and cynical, and even suspected her of conceit, especially since it was known that she had refused many excellent opportunities for establishing herself in life. She was also suspe

n't even have enough-would they, did Helen think?-for love in a cottage, and Molly would hate love in a cottage. They would have to go about living on their relations and friends, as he now did, more or less; but with a wife and babies, how could one? Did Helen think one could? Gerald would finish dismally, standing before her with his hands thrust deeply into his pockets and a ruffled brow of inquiry. Or else it was the pretty Miss Oliver who had him-half alarmed, half enchanted-in her toils, and Gerald couldn't imagine what she was going to do with him. For such entanglements Helen's advice had always shown a way out, and for hi

r me,' said Gerald. 'Pl

at she would always

hough once, after a conversation with old Miss Buchanan, he remarked to Helen, looking at her with a vague curiosity, that it was a pity she hadn't take

right,' s

self are; but

y do with some few thousands a year; but that, in

ight confide everything in Helen, but he realised, as a restraining influence, that she n

ed that s

readful pity. She's very

he poor dear to worry. The

n't care

o be in love when I married,' said Helen,

ssed the subject from his mind, taking it for granted that Helen's disengaged, susta