When he came in sight, however, and she knew he was actually there, she ran away to hide her blushes and the feeling of awe which had come suddenly over her for the man who was to be her husband. But Helen bade her go back, and so she went coyly in to Wilford, who met her with loving caresses, and then put upon her finger the superb diamond which he said he had thought to send as a pledge of their engagement, but had finally concluded to wait and present himself. Katy had heard much of diamonds, and seen some in Canandaigua; but the idea that she, plain Katy Lennox, would ever wear them, had never once entered her mind; and now as she looked at the brilliant gem sparkling upon her hand, she felt a thrill of something more than joy at that good fortune which had brought her to diamonds. Vanity, we suppose it was—such vanity as was very natural in her case, and she thought she should never tire of looking at the precious stone; but when Wilford showed her next the plain broad band of gold, and tried it on her third finger, asking if she knew what it meant, the true woman spoke within her, and she answered, tearfully:
"Yes, I know, and I will try to prove worthy of what I shall be to you when I wear that ring for good."
Katy was very quiet for a moment as she sat with her head nestled against Wilford's bosom, but when he observed that she was looking tired, and asked if she had been working hard, the quiet fit was broken, and she told him of the dress "we had made," that "we" referring solely to Helen and Marian, for Katy had hardly done a thing. But it did not matter; she fancied she had, and she asked if he did not wish to see her dresses. Wilford knew it would please Katy, and so, though he cared very little about it, he followed her into the adjoining room where they were still spread out upon the tables and chairs, with Helen in their midst, ready to pack them away. Wilford thought of Mrs. Ryan and the check, but he shook hands with Helen very civilly, saying to her, playfully:
"I suppose that you are willing I should take your sister with me this time."
Helen could not answer, but turned away to hide her face, while Katy showed to her lover one dress after another, until she came to the little plaid, which, with a bright blush she told him "was the very thing itself—the one intended for to-morrow, and asked if he did not like it."
Wilford could not help telling her yes, for he knew she wished him to do so, but in his heart he was thinking bad thoughts against the wardrobe of his bride-elect—thoughts which would have won for him the title of hen-huzzy from Helen, could she have known them. And yet Wilford did not deserve that name. Accustomed all his life to hearing dress discussed in his mother's parlor, and in his sister's boudoir, it was natural he should think more of it and notice it more than Morris Grant would do, while for the last five weeks he had heard at home of little else than the probably _tout ensemble_ of Katy's wardrobe, bought and made in the country, his mother deciding finally to write to her cousin, Mrs. Harvey, who boarded at the Revere, and have her see it before Katy left the city. Under these circumstances, it was not strange that Wilford did not enter into Katy's delight, even after she told him how Helen had made every stitch of the dress herself, and that it would on that account be very dear to her. This was a favorable time for getting the poplin off his mind, and with a premonitory ahem, he said: "Yes, it is very nice, no doubt; but," and here he turned to Helen, "after Mrs. Ryan's services were declined, my mother determined to have two dresses fitted to Sister Bell, who I think is just Katy's size and figure. I need not say"—and his eyes still rested on Helen, who gave him back an unflinching glance—"I need not say that no pains have been spared to make these garments everything they should be in point of quality and style. I have them in my trunk," and, tuning now to Katy, "it is my mother's special request that one of them be worn to-morrow. You could take your choice, she said—either was suitable. I will bring them for your inspection."
He left the room, while Helen's face resembled a dark thundercloud, whose lightnings shone in her flashing eyes as she looked after him and then back to where Katy stood, bewildered and wondering what was wrong.
"Who is Mrs. Ryan?" she asked. "What does he mean?" but before Helen could command her voice to explain, Wilford was with them again, bringing the dresses, over which Katy nearly went wild.
She had never seen anything as elegant as the rich heavy poplin or the soft lustrous silk, while even Helen acknowledged that there was about them a finish which threw Miss Hazelton's quite in the shade.
"Beautiful!" Katy exclaimed; "and trimmed so exquisitely! I do so hope they will fit!"