"On Monday next. You can leave your big box here still, and if you like to come over to lunch every second Sunday, you may do so. But I doubt if you will care for the long walk across the park,—or if Mrs. Kane could spare a servant to walk home with you."
"Then, thank you, I won't mind."
"Well, dear," rising as if a load had been removed from her mind, "I believe we have settled everything satisfactorily. It is so much pleasanter to talk over these matters face to face. And now, love, I'll say good-night. I daresay you would like to finish Carrie's handkerchief before you go upstairs." Then, stooping and kissing her, she added, "Be sure you put the lamp out carefully," and with this parting injunction, Aunt Julia opened the door, and departed, leaving her orphan niece alone with her own thoughts.
Helen stitched away mechanically for nearly ten minutes, then she laid down her work, and sat with her hands lying idly in her lap, and her eyes riveted upon the rose-coloured lamp-shade, but her thoughts did not take any reflection from that brilliant hue. The life that had begun so brightly now stretched out before her mental vision as grey and dreary as a winter's day. She was imperiously summoned to work for herself, to take up her post in the battle of existence, to toil for her daily bread for the future,—her only aim being to lay by some provision for her old age; she saw before her years of drudgery, with but this end in view. She had no friends, no relations, no money. A cold, dull despair settled down upon her soul, as she sat in the same attitude for fully an hour. At last she rose, folded up her work, carefully extinguished the lamp, and then made her way noiselessly up to her own apartment under the slates.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
MALVERN HOUSE.
"Come what, come may—
Time and the hour runs through the roughest day."
Macbeth.
A few days after her aunt had thus frankly unfolded her plans, Helen was out shopping,—officiating as companion and carrier to her cousin Clara—and again encountered Mr. Quentin. He was strolling down Piccadilly, looking like a drawing from a tailor's fashion plate, and evidently in a superbly contented frame of mind. On this occasion (being alone) he condescended to accost Miss Denis, entirely ignoring their previous meeting in the park.