“I could not possibly set the hour. I am much overworked. I should beg your pardon,” said Bayard in his gentlest way.
“You are overworked,” answered Helen, in her candid voice. “And I am an idle, useless woman. It wouldn’t have hurt me a bit to wait your leisure. But I’m not— ... you see ... I’m not used to it.”
“I must remind you again, that I no longer move in good society,” said Bayard, looking straight at her. “You must extend to me as much tolerance as you do to other working men.”
“Yes,” returned Helen; “we always wait a week for a carpenter, and ten days for the plumbers. Anyhow, Johnny’s mother is in the Widows’ Home. She’s as snug as a clam in a shell. She says she won’t run away again till I’ve been to see her.”
“How in the world did you manage?” asked Bayard admiringly.
“Oh, I don’t just know,” replied Helen, clasping her hands behind her head; “I made myself lovely, that’s all.”
“That might be enough, I should fancy,” ventured the young man under his breath.
“I took her shopping,” said Helen.
“Took her shopping!”