“And you will discover poor Helen, and bring her back?” she said, forcing herself to speak of a subject that she felt would be welcome to him.
“If men can do it, we will succeed!” he replied, earnestly.
“Poor Helen!” sighed Grey. “Tell her, Mr Hilton—from me—”
“Yes,” he said, eagerly, for she hesitated and stopped.
“That her old schoolfellow’s arms long to embrace her once again, and that the hours have seemed very bitter since she has been gone.”
“Yes,” he said. “I will tell her, Miss Stuart. Poor girl! she will need all the consolation that can be given her, and it will be welcome news to her that she is sure of yours.”
“Sure of mine, Captain Hilton? Oh, yes. For many years past I have felt like the sister of Helen Perowne.”
“Who is happy in possessing so dear a friend,” he said, gravely. “May she ever retain your friendship—nay, I should call it sisterly love.”
“She shall,” said Grey, in a voice that sounded hard and firm. “I am not one to change lightly in my friendships.”
“No,” he said, quietly; “you cannot be.”