She bent over and kissed Helen, who returned the caress with much warmth.
"You will answer your letter to go by noon to-morrow."
Helen bowed, too much moved to speak.
It was still strange to her. One might dream of an event coming in the future, but to have it here, to put your hand on it, as one might say, dazed her. Daisy was at a music practice, though she did not think she could talk it over with anyone just now.
Miss Craven stood hesitatingly in the half open doorway, with beseeching eyes.
"If you are not too very busy—I'm in trouble about the Latin. Oh, if I could be quick to see into things!" in a passion of regret that emphasized every line of her face where last year it would have been unmoved.
"I had an awful time about it, too, so we can sympathize," smiling cheerfully. "I just wanted something to start up my energies."
"Oh, what should I do without you? Shall I ever be able to go on alone?"
"Think what you have accomplished in the two years," was the reassuring answer.
There was a saunter around the grounds afterwards, meeting several groups of girls and flinging bright jests at each other. Then dinner, the study period, some conversation and it was bedtime. But Helen could not sleep. She smiled to herself as she wondered what Mr. Warfield would say and there was a consciousness that he would think her only half educated. Well, could one ever be wholly educated at sixteen?—even at sixty, professors are learning new things. And, oh, what a stir it would make all through the Hopes!