“I came to see if you wished to change your gown before tea.”
“I am not going to change it to-day. Come in. I wished to see you. Mr. Derwent has been telling me of your good fortune. I wish to congratulate you.”
There was no elation or change of manner in the quiet girl as she replied:—
“Thank you. Mr. Derwent has done fine work for me. You don’t wish my help, then?”
Mrs. Nixon hesitated. She knew that yesterday she would have said no, and closed the door, and she knew that Helen Maynard knew it; so though she desired to beg her to be seated for a chat, she indulged in no such stupidity.
“Did you see the geyser play?” she asked. “The Old Faithful?”
“No.” Helen Maynard had indeed been in her own room, careless of scenery, absorbed in the considerations that had held her captive since Mr. Derwent had shown his telegram.
“My son says it has just played. Let us not miss the next show.”
“Do you wish me to come for you?”