Helen Grant's Schooldays

by Amanda M. Douglas

This Mr. Fenton had besieged her for some money in the spring and a liberal allowance in her will. As far as she could trace the relationship there were but two families who had any claim on her, and his was one. She had put him off with a sarcastic promise of taking her will into consideration, then her quick wit intervened.

"If I should die without a will you would share equally. I think I will let it go that way."

That was all the satisfaction he could get. She hoped never to see him again. But he had found her in Paris, and again importuned her. She had so much she could surely spare him a little now. She allowed herself the gratification then of explaining the annuity to him and that she meant to spend her income in each year. He flew into a passion and called her some harsh names, when she had left him alone with a very curt dismissal. She had been more provoked than excited. There were some special reasons why she wished to attend this reception and she went. Whether it might have been different or whether she had reached her allotted span, only God knew.

The next few days Mrs. Aldred took especial pains with Helen. She must be able to enter the graduating class. Helen was delighted with the attention, and repaid it with earnest endeavor.

Mr. Castles sent word that Miss Gage had started with the body.

Helen had passed most of her examinations when Mrs. Aldred very tenderly informed her of the sad news, and how almost incredulous she had been at first.

"Of course, this changes all the plans," she said, when she had given Helen time for her first anguish. "But I have been talking with Mrs. Wiley, who is quite willing to take you for some of the younger classes, a year or two years, and in that time you can graduate. It is best that you should have a diploma. You are very young yet, and will be more capable of facing the world at eighteen. I really have no fear for you, and am confident you will succeed."

"I cannot thank you sufficiently now," Helen answered. "I am bewildered. May I be excused from dinner?"

"Yes, and anything you desire to-morrow. You have my warmest sympathy, and I feel that I do not want to lose sight of you in the years to come."

It was a sad night for Helen, a sad day following; indeed, it took all the joy out of the graduation exercises for her. Mrs. Wiley made her proffer and Helen accepted it.