“Now I like this one––a Gainsborough, isn’t it?” She had stopped in front of “The Blue Boy.”
“Do you like that one?” cried the young man.
“It’s charming,” gushed Mrs. Burton.
“It’s yours.”
“Mine! Why, I couldn’t think of it.”
“Please do me the honor of accepting it.”
“After what has occurred to-night? Why, I”–––Mrs. Burton couldn’t take her eyes from the picture, and seemed thrilled with an ecstasy of admiration.
“I will have it packed and shipped to you to-morrow.”
Mrs. Burton wheeled upon him with an expression that fairly took him to her arms.
“You dear, generous boy,” she cried; “if Helen had only confided in me––here is my card; come to me to-morrow and we will have a family conference. I”–––