"Perhaps there was, aunt!" she rejoined, with a laugh, that entirely baffled Mrs. Platt, who, after surveying her for some seconds in searching silence, exclaimed,—
"Well, you are a queer girl! I can't make you out! I certainly could not imagine you caring a straw for any man! Your face entirely belies your real disposition; it gives people the idea that you are capable of deep feelings—perhaps of what is called 'une grande passion'—whereas, in reality, you are cold and as unresponsive as the typical iceberg. However, considering your present circumstances, and youth, and good looks,—perhaps it is just as well!"
Having delivered herself of this opinion, as though it were an oracle, Mrs. Platt sank into a tone of easy confidential discourse, and imparted to her listener, that her recent campaign on the Continent, had not been entirely barren of results. A certain elderly widower, had been "greatly attracted" by Clara, and had paid her considerable attention, and that it was not unlikely, that they would have a wedding before very long. And after a good deal more in this strain, and yet more, on the subject of the frightful expenses she had incurred abroad, and the paralyzing prices of some of the French hotels, Mrs. Platt, with a final recommendation of extract of malt, went her way, and drove home alone, in her comfortable, plush-lined brougham.
Helen continued to struggle on from day to day, and conscientiously fulfilled her allotted duties. She indignantly refused to accept the rôle of invalid; she told herself that, could she but tide over the next six weeks, she would contrive a trip to some cheap seaside resort, and there recruit her shattered health—her health that was her only capital! What was to become of her if she broke down? she would have no resource but charity! She shivered at the very thought. Each day her round of tasks became more of an effort; she felt as if some dreadful, unknown illness was lying in wait, and dogging her steps hour after hour. Sometimes the room swam round, and figures and words in exercise-books seemed to mix and run about before her aching eyes. But so far, by sheer force of will she fought off the enemy, and fiercely refused to surrender.
When ten days had elapsed, Mrs. Platt was once more in Mrs. Kane's drawing-room, the bearer of a letter in her pocket, that she flattered herself would remove her poor relation entirely out of her own orbit.
"My dear, I declare you look really ill—very ill!" she exclaimed, as her niece entered. "Don't come near me,"—moving suddenly across the room, and making a gesture of repudiation with both hands,—"keep away, there's a good girl! I'm certain you are sickening for something,—diphtheria or small-pox! Small-pox is raging. You must see a doctor immediately, and take precautions. If it is anything, you will have to be sent to a hospital at once!"
"You need not be the least alarmed, Aunt Julia; there is nothing the matter with me. My head aches, and I'm tired sometimes; that is all, I assure you."
"Oh, well,"—rather relieved—"I'm sure I hope so, otherwise it would be most awkward! I understand now, that you really require a change, and it is principally about that, I have come over to see you. I have had a letter I wish to show you,"—sinking into an easy chair, and commencing to fumble in her pocket. "Yes, here it is,"—handing it to her niece, who unfolded it, and ran her eyes over the following effusion:—
"Dearest Mother,—Carrie and I cannot possibly go home this week, there is so much coming off; and Mr. Jones is here! Please send down our black lace dresses, our new opera cloaks, and some flowers from that man in the Bayswater Road. We shall be rather short of money, so you might enclose some—say, a five pound note—in an envelope in my dress pocket. So sorry you are having all this worry about Helen. What a tiresome creature she is! Of course it is quite out of the question, that we should take her in; be sure you impress that very firmly on her mind, mother dear. Is there not a convalescent home for broken-down governesses? Some charitable institution that she could go to?—"
"Charitable institution!" echoed Helen, aloud.