Laboring under these depressing doubts, her greeting of Morton appeared less spontaneous than he in his optimism had anticipated. The exchange of salutations became quite formal, his compliment on her appearance sounded commonplace. When, during the short drive to the Grand Central Station, he once more and rather soberly expressed his regret that their outing had begun in such unpromising weather, Helène turned to him with a somewhat pathetic smile:
“I don’t mind the rain at all. I think I am really frightened at the prospect of meeting Mrs. Morton and your sister!”
“You dear child—you need not worry on that score! They can’t help but like you, and I am quite confident that you will like them.”
“You give me courage, Mr. Morton—I do hope you will prove to be right!” Helène’s smile had now lost its pathos, anticipating to Morton the breaking of the sunshine through the clouds which was promised by a rapidly widening strip of heavenly blue.
In the drawing-room of the now quickly moving train, Helène found the opportunity she had been waiting for so long.
“Mr. Morton—I want to speak to you on a matter which has been constantly on my mind. It relates to that money in the Weimar bank. I cannot accept it—it is not rightfully mine. Please withdraw what of it is yours. I cannot take money from you, really I cannot!”
Morton was not surprised. He had expected some such outbreak as this. In the stillness of the past night, in which he had devoted some hours to his “Hellenic studies,” he had once again read the girl’s last letter to him, and while in the blissful state of having found her, had also decided what he would do should she speak of this matter.
“Miss Barton, you told me yesterday that you had written to me to Cleveland. The letter should reach me in two days. In that letter, I presume, you accept the injunctions laid upon you by your father? Am I right?” Helène, who had been anxiously awaiting his reply, nodded.
“Your father had enjoined me to act in his stead. Consequently, I have become, so to say, your legal guardian. Now, Miss Helène, as you are still a minor, any action with reference to any property or money you may own, lies with me. You surely do not question my qualifications for this duty?” Helène gave a protesting and frightened, “Oh—no!”
“Very good, then, suppose you leave this all to me and to my office. When the proper time arrives, my secretary will render you a full account. Until then, please let us dismiss it!” The mouth of his vis-à-vis showed a decided droop, which made Morton immediately change both his tone and tactics. Taking the little hand that hung listlessly at her side, and giving her his most brotherly smile, he said, as insinuatingly as he knew how: