Mrs. Van Dorn had given her these two splendid years, but if she asked back ten, and she was so confident of living to ninety—oh, could she grant it cheerfully? There would have to be some greater grace than her own. And if God gave her this to do—if the friends of girlhood were denied her, if Mrs. Van Dorn claimed all, would she have to submit?
It was a hard question for sixteen who had only enjoyed two years of freedom about the things she loved best, the thing she wanted most, education.
She told Daisy Bell, who didn't know whether to rejoice or not. It was splendid, of course, but if she should be away for years and all their lovely friendship come to an end!
"For I am sure I shall never find a girl I love so thoroughly, that I depend on, that is a strong tower to me. Mamma said my letters had been her treasures this year, I was taking so much more serious and sacred views of life. And they will be dismal enough next winter."
"Then I am afraid I haven't done you much good," Helen smiled through tears.
"Yes, you have. And I will try to remember all the nice talks we have had and keep strong on them. We will appoint one hour in the day when we shall always think of each other."
"And pray that God may give us grace to remember for years if there is need," Helen returned solemnly.
Miss Craven was glad for her. "It must be wonderful to have a person care that much for you," she said, "to want to keep you near her. Why, it is almost as mothers feel, I suppose. I couldn't bear the thought of you being away alone—if you were alone I should ask you to come and be a sister to me. I don't know how I can get along without you, but I must try and comfort myself with the thought of what you have been to me. And, oh, if you should be absent years, I will come over. Why, I should like to see the dear old lady who loves you so."
Helen felt almost convicted of ingratitude.