Helen Grant's Schooldays

by Amanda M. Douglas

It had come like a sudden vision, and now it was quenched in bitter regret, with the unappeased want back of it.

"I do object to indiscriminate visiting for such young girls. If Mrs. Van Dorn were here and could see just the kind of girl Miss Daisy is, it would be different, but I suppose, if she thought at all, it was about the generality of girls, who sometimes are quite lawless in their own homes. Since you have accepted her direction for the next two years, it is best to do it cheerfully," advised Mrs. Aldred.

"Yes, I do owe her that much," returned Helen in a convinced tone, if the disappointment had not all gone out of it.

Then Daisy and she had an unpleasant disagreement about it, and Helen felt sorrier than ever.

Juliet Craven's happening was a comforting one for her. Mrs. Davis had gone abroad with a clear conscience. Her friend, Mrs. Howard, was to look after the ward who was neither woman or child.

Then came the rush of examinations, the excitement to know who had passed, and what the marks were, and the graduation exercises which began at three in the afternoon and were to end with a lawn party in the moonlight.

Some of the pupils were secretly mortified at not attaining a higher rate, a few really did not care, and they were not sufficiently above the ordinary to make a mark anywhere. Some others were a credit to the training and culture of Aldred House, and went their way with a grateful remembrance of their teacher friend and her admirable daughter.

Helen had a part in the singing, there was some excellent playing, recitations, and essays. The house was crowded, it was one of the summer events at Westchester. There were congratulations and good wishes, and an evening of unbounded delight, as many of the young people were invited, and for this evening the youthful masculines, among them a number of law students, were welcomed.

Was it only a year ago Helen Grant had recited Hervé Riel in the old schoolhouse at Hope Center? Oh, how many things had happened since then. Why, it was like a fairy story. She could hardly believe it herself.

She recited it again out on a corner of the lawn, and before she was half through her audience had doubled, and listened with flattering attention. The young son of Mr. Danforth, just home from college, was standing near.