"Oh, I couldn't say that. It was about your journeys, and the people you had met. And he was so interested."
Mrs. Van Dorn was mollified, and added a few touches to her toilet, picked up a fleecy scarf, came downstairs with her hand on Helen's shoulder, and was duly presented. The man was young.
But the lady was an agreeable surprise. He had been a little biased by Aunt Jane, he admitted to himself. She was like some of the fine old ladies he had met abroad, who carried their age with a serene unconsciousness.
Mrs. Dayton was coming up the path, and gave them a little nod.
"Perhaps she would like your service a while, Helen," exclaimed Mrs. Van Dorn. "I should enjoy having a little talk with your friend."
Helen rose reluctantly. She would much rather have stayed. But in five minutes she was in full flow of an interested confidence with Mrs. Dayton, and then they sat down on the north corner of the kitchen porch, and peeled peaches for the luncheon, as it was getting late.
Mr. Warfield meant to suggest several things to Mrs. Van Dorn that could tend to Helen's benefit presently. She resolved to learn what he thought of the child's capabilities for advancement. In a certain way, though, they both parried skillfully, each gained a point, yet it was not the point Mr. Warfield set out to make.