"As you like!"
Helena accepted the somewhat ungracious assent, and stood up to ring for the servant; as she reseated herself on the ground by Mary, one of her old malicious little smiles played over her face. Was she thinking that perhaps she could change Mary's indifference into eagerness, equal to if not greater than her own?
The servant appeared at the door, and was told to go to Mrs. Penton's, and say that the Misses Elton would be ready for her at the appointed hour.
As soon as the door was closed Helena said, "Can you not be natural, Mary, and say that you are dying to hear the information which I said I could give you, and which you would be glad to know? I am sure you are, only you are too dignified to say so."
"Too dignified! why, child, that word and I have parted company for ever. Was it dignified, think you, to betray such a secret as mine? When and how did you guess it?"
"At Frascati, during that thunder-storm, when I was so frightened. You remember that I hid my face in your lap; suddenly I felt you tremble, and, not seeing any lightning, I looked up at you to learn the cause. Mr. Earnscliffe was gone, but his voice could be heard speaking to Flora Adair, and your eyes were fixed in the direction from which the voice came. Their expression was so strange that I kept looking at you in wonder. Then came a flash of lightning; you covered up your face with your hands, and kept them there long after the flash had passed. When you did at last take them down, your eyes were red, and I felt sure that hot tears had been standing in them, tears which only your strong will had kept from falling; you looked so inexpressibly sad and sorrowful as you turned away and leaned your head upon your hand, that it came to me at once, 'Mary loves that man!' Since then I have watched you, noticed your eyes flashing when you heard of his attention to Flora during her illness, and now, this very day, how irritable you became when I spoke of her ideas of love. How I have pitied you, sister, and wanted to be allowed to comfort you!"
"Fool that I have been! I thought myself less demonstrative."
"You are undemonstrative, surely, Mary, and I should never have guessed anything of this but for that trembling at Frascati. Had you even trembled opportunely, when there was a flash of lightning, I should have supposed it was on that account. But, Mary, is it not better so?—better to talk to me of it sometimes, than for ever to brood over it alone? And you know that you can trust me; you have even said so."
"That I can, and do, Helena; forgive me if I seem ungenerous. As I said before, it is a sort of barrier with which I am obliged to fence in my heart, in order to enable me to keep up appearances; but, believe me, I am most grateful for all your affection, even when I may the least appear to value it."
Helena caressed her hand as she said, "Listen to my news. There is somebody else going to the Catacombs, besides Mr. Caulfield."