Helène lay in her bed thinking, not of her friend’s new-found happiness, but of the morning’s meeting, and the visit to Morton’s home. She was anxious about the impression she would make on his mother and sister and painfully timid of the ordeal. Of Morton himself she had no fear—he had been so kind, so happy to meet her. There was but one problem with regard to him she had still left unsolved—it related to the money in the bank at Weimar. She was at a loss how to broach the subject and how to dispose of it once and for all. She lay awake for a long time turning it over in her mind again and again. She decided finally that she would speak of it at the first opportunity and have done with it. She would not then be his debtor, and would feel free of the burden it had been to her.
Comforted by this decision, she closed her eyes and with a happy sigh slept peacefully the deep and strengthening sleep of a mind at rest.
Margaret sat for a long time going over in her mind all that happened to her on this momentous evening. She was doing battle with herself to subjugate the doubts that kept assailing her as to the step she had taken. For, indeed, she had gone through a wonderful metamorphosis. Yesterday, an ordinary working girl—to-day, the affianced of a Van Dusen! A few hours ago she was a confirmed spinster, and now she was happy in the possession of the truest lover a girl was ever blessed with. Her eyes fell on the finger of her left hand on which shone a gorgeous diamond—his betrothal ring. He had had it ready in his pocket—nay, as he told her, he had had it there for weeks, waiting until he could muster up the courage to speak to her. What a man!
She began slowly to undress, speculating the while as to whether or no she should wear the ring in the morning. What would Mrs. Kane and the others say? She extinguished the light, but not before she had taken a last admiring and loving look at the glittering gem, and crept into her bed. Should she remove the ring or wear it? The pillow was soft and soothing. She stretched her limbs luxuriously. Should she wear the ring or—her eyes closed in sleep.
Sleep, dear girl; sleep and dream of the happiness that has at last come to you. Your brave spirit shall soon receive its reward. Love, with which you blessed, will bless you.
CHAPTER XXIX
THE harvest moon that had smiled so benignly upon New York in all its fullness the evening before had proved a false prophet. The wind had shifted to the east and brought a copious rainfall during the early morning hours, and it was still drizzling when Morton’s carriage drew up before the Gramercy Park house.
The feelings of Helène, who had risen early, and in high spirits, had begun to oscillate while awaiting the arrival of Morton, alternating between looking forward with hopeful expectancy to meeting the ladies of whom she had thought so often, and the dread of a possible unfavorable impression she might create.