As proof of this he led her to the glass, showing her the pale, thin face and unnaturally large eyes, so distasteful to him. Wilford Cameron was very proud of his handsome house, proud to know that everything there was in keeping with his position and wealth, but when Katy was immured in the nursery, the bright picture was obscured, for it needed her presence to make it perfect, and he began to grow dissatisfied with his surroundings, while abroad he missed her quite as much, finding the opera, the party or the reception insipid where she was not, and feeling fully conscious that Wilford Cameron, without a wife, and that wife Katy, was not a man of half the consequence he had thought himself to be. Even Sybil Grandon did not think it worth her while to court his attention, especially if Katy were not present, for unless some one saw and felt her triumph it ceased directly to be one. On the whole Wilford was not well pleased with society, as he found it this winter, and knowing where the trouble lay he resolved that Katy should no longer remain at home, growing pale and faded and losing her good looks. Wilford would not have confessed it, and perhaps was not himself aware of the fact, that Katy's beauty was quite as dear to him as Katy herself. If she lost it her value was decreased accordingly, and so as a prudent husband it behooved him to see that what was so very precious was not unnecessarily thrown away. It did not take long for Katy to understand that her days of quiet were at an end, that neither crib nor cradle could avail her longer. Mrs. Kirby, selected from a host of applicants, was wholly competent for Baby Cameron, and Katy must throw aside the mother which sat so prettily upon her and become again the belle. It was a sad trial, but Katy knew that submission was the only alternative, and so when Mrs. Banker's invitation came, she accepted it at once, but there was a sad look upon her face as she kissed her baby for the twentieth time ere going to her dressing-maid.
Never until this night had Helen realized how beautiful Katy was when in full evening dress, and her exclamations of delight brought a soft flush to Katy's cheek, while she felt a thrill of the olden vanity as she saw herself once more arrayed in all her costly apparel. Helen did not wonder now at Wilford's desire to have Katy with him, and very proudly she watched her young sister as Esther twined the flowers in her hair and then brought out the ermine cloak she was to wear as a protection against the cold.
"If they could only see you at home," she said, while instantly there arose a thought of Dr. Grant, and Helen felt a throb of keen regret as she contrasted the gay, airy figure with the grave, quiet Morris, who found his chief delights in works of charity, and whose feet lingered amid the haunts of poverty and suffering, rather than such scenes as that to which she was going.
But Katy's path lay far from Dr. Grant's, and only Wilford Cameron had A right to say whither she should go or when return. He was standing by her now, making a few suggestions and expressing his approbation in a way which reminded Helen of that night before the marriage, when Katy's dress had been condemned, and of that sadder, bitterer time when she had poured her tears like rain into that trunk returned. All she had thought of Wilford then was now more than confirmed, but he was kind to her and very proud of Katy, so she forced back her feelings of disquiet, which, however, were roused again when she saw the dark look on his face, as Katy, at the very last, ran to the nursery to kiss baby again, succeeding this time in waking it, as was proven by the cry that made Wilford scowl angrily and brought to his lips a word of rebuke for Katy's childishness.
"You are like a girl with her first doll," he said, as he opened the door for her to pass, and Helen, though she felt the truth of the remark, knew there was no necessity for him to throw so much of lordly displeasure into his manner, and make poor Katy look so distressed and worried as they drove rapidly along the streets to Mrs. Banker's.
The party was not so large as that at Sybil Grandon's, but it was more select, and Helen enjoyed it better, meeting people like Morris, who readily appreciated the peculiarities of her mind, and who would have made her forget all else around her if she had not been a guest at Mark Ray's house. It was the first time she had met him away from home since the night of Mrs. Grandon's, and as if forgetful of her reserve, he paid her numberless attentions, which, coming from the master of the house, were the more to be valued.
With a quiet dignity Helen received them all, the thought once creeping into her heart that she was preferred, notwithstanding that engagement. But she soon repudiated this idea as unworthy of her. She could not be wholly happy with one who, to win her hand, had trampled upon the affections of another, even if that other were Juno Cameron.
And so she kept out of his way as much as possible, watching her sister admiringly as she moved about with an easy, assured grace, or floated like a snow flake through the dance in which Wilford persuaded her to join, looking after her with a proud, all-absorbing feeling, which left no room for Sybil Grandon's coquettish advances.
As if the reappearance of Katy had awakened all that was weak and silly in Sybil's nature, she now put forth her full powers of attraction, but met only with defeat. Katy, and even Helen, was preferred before her—both belles of a different type; but both winning golden laurels from those who hardly knew which to admire most—Katy, with her pure, delicate beauty and charming simplicity, or Helen, with her attractive face and sober, quiet manner. But Katy grew tired early. She could not endure what she once did; and when she came to Wilford with a weary look upon her face and asked him to go home, he did not refuse, though Mark, who was near, protested against their leaving so soon.
"Surely Miss Lennox might remain; the carriage could be sent back for her; and he had hardly seen her at all."