Mrs. Burrell beamed. “I guess you can see it in Carrie Cora’s face. Eh, girls?”
“I should think so!” Emeline and Gladys cried together.
“It’s true, then? There is something?” Helen asked.
Carrie Cora’s face flushed violently. “Yes,” the girl replied, lifting her gloved hand to her forehead.
“Don’t be a ninny, Carrie Cora!” Mrs. Burrell exclaimed.
Helen held out her hand. “It’s all settled?” she asked.
Carrie Cora looked up shyly. “Yes.” Then she cast her eyes down again.
“I’m so glad, dear,” said Helen, bending forward and kissing her.
“Well, it was you that did it, Mrs. Briggs!” Mrs. Burrell cried, in a loud voice, as if to keep the situation from becoming sentimental. “I might as well give you the credit. That talkin’ to you gave me that day after your ball just opened my eyes. I suppose I am kind of a cross old thing, and—well, I didn’t understand Rufus James. The family’s always been poor and good-for-nothing. But Rufus, he’s got lots of spunk. Why, at first he wouldn’t come to the house—even when I said he could. You’d think he was a prince, the way he acted. And he’s doin’ real well. He’s had a raise in his salary, and he ain’t lettin’ father do a thing for him.”
“And is it to be soon?” Helen asked.