"Mr. Farr, Jean always liked you."
He drew a quick sharp breath.
"Why do you think so?" he asked. Then before Helen could reply, he went on in a strained voice, "I loved Jean with all my heart, and was about to ask her to be my wife. I love her now—I shall always love her."
"And Jean cares for you," Helen whispered, so low he had to bend his head to catch the words.
"Cares for me?" he repeated, a sudden light in his eyes, his voice grown very deep and tender.
"Yes, oh yes. There must have been some wretched mistake which can be explained away. I don't know how it was," she went on with a plaintive smile. "Jean's heart was almost broken because of you, and she grew so ill we had to send her away."
"Thank God!" he ejaculated solemnly.
Helen broke into a little laugh, which was full of tears.
"That Jean has gone away?" she queried.
Farr lifted his head and drew a deep breath.