A feeling of distrust had taken possession of her and she determined to be on the watch, for the unsuspicious major would be easily duped, and Helen trusted more to her own quick and keen eye than to his experience. She tried to show nothing of the change in her manner; but Hoffman perceived it, and bore it with a proud patience which often touched her heart, but never altered her purpose.
VII.
AT FAULT.
Four weeks went by so rapidly that every one refused to believe it when the major stated the fact at the breakfast-table, for all had enjoyed themselves so heartily that they had been unconscious of the lapse of time.
“You are not going away, uncle?” cried Amy, with a panic-stricken look.
“Next week, my dear; we must be off, for we’ve much to do yet, and I promised mamma to bring you back by the end of October.”
“Never mind Paris and the rest of it; this is pleasanter. I’d rather stay here—”
There Amy checked herself and tried to hide her face behind her coffee-cup, for Casimer looked up in a way that made her heart flutter and her cheeks burn.
“Sorry for it, Amy; but go we must, so enjoy your last week with all your might, and come again next year.”
“It will never be again what it is now,” sighed Amy; and Casimer echoed the words “next year,” as if sadly wondering if the present year would not be his last.