[From Helen's Diary.]
March, —. It has been days since I have written in this diary. There has been a good deal to record, but I have had neither the time nor desire to do it.
I see Everet every day. He lunches and dines here quite as though it were home to him. Edgar is seldom here, but when he is, he is discretion itself. There is always a severe dignity preserved between them.
Everet has the entire run of the house, and drops into my boudoir for tea in the afternoons, as a matter of course.
I manage matters in such a way that we are never seen together in public, except as we casually meet. It required some diplomacy to get out of making one of his theatre party last week, for it would never do for me to appear conscious of any wrong in our public association while I admit him so intimately in private; it would betray a depth of discernment and worldliness that he does not dream exists.
Our relations are those of intimate friends, good comrades, but there is always a dignity preserved. Nothing occurs that the most scrupulous could find fault with—if they knew all; it would never do for them to know a little. It is enough to keep him where he sees me constantly and listens to me.
The ease with which I charm and achieve, astonishes myself. There is never a word of business. He does not know that I know the House from the Senate—I don't when it comes to that, but I can accomplish when I am told what to work for.
Everet, himself, does not know how essential I am to him. I discover from time to time the progress I am making by being "out" two or three days in succession when he calls. I can judge much from the manner of his greeting when he next finds me at home.
To-day I did a master-stroke. He has some vague idea of his danger. He begins to understand in some degree what my presence means to him. He was inclined to break loose, and to-day he announced that he was going north for a time.
I started, and—I think I turned a little pale. I intended to, and for some reason, I felt so. I said quite carelessly: "Yes?" after he had noticed the start.