There was a world of mirth in Helen’s eyes, as she replied, “You are the twenty-first!”
Craig gasped, as if the honor were a questionable one. Helen saw it and hastened to add, “I could not help it if a lot of senseless men and boys chose to think they were in love with me. I never cared for one of them,—never!”
She made the last never very emphatic, and thus reassured the shadow lifted from Craig’s face, and during the remainder of the drive he talked of their future which should be as bright and happy as it was in his power to make it. They would have a home of their own in Boston, for he believed in the saying that no house was large enough for two families,—a sentiment in which Helen fully concurred when she thought of his stately mother, who, she felt sure, was not anxious to have her for a daughter-in-law. They would go to Europe, if she liked, when they were married, and it would please him to have the marriage take place as soon as possible, say, at Christmas time.
“No, oh, no! Not so soon as that!” Helen exclaimed. “You do not care for society, and I do. Let me have one more winter of it before I settle down into the domestic wife I mean to be.”
She was very earnest, and Craig consented to wait until spring.
“And, please,” she said, “don’t let us talk of the engagement at once. I mean, not to-night, and you going away to-morrow. Wait till you return.”
“But suppose you are not here? You said you might not be,” Craig suggested, and Helen replied, “We shall be here. I can persuade mamma to stay, if she still thinks of going. I shall tell her, of course, and shall write to Alice to-night. She will be interested, and, oh, Mr. Mason—”
“Craig, please,” he interrupted her.
“Well, then, Craig. I think it such a pretty name,” Helen continued. “If we go to Europe,—and I should like that so much,—would you mind having Alice go with us? I am always better when she is with me. Did you ever notice what clear, honest eyes she has,—eyes which keep you from being bad when they are on you. She is so helpful, too, and sees what to do and does it. I should be happier if Alice were with us.”
It was a novel thing for a newly-engaged young lady to be asking her fiancé to take another young lady with them on their bridal trip because it would make her happier. But Helen was in earnest. She was always at her best with Alice, and much as she might love Craig Mason, if she did love him, she knew there was very little that was congenial between them, and there had already come over her something like homesickness as she thought of months abroad, with only him for company and no one to whom to show herself as she really was,—to let herself out, as she expressed it. Craig was in a mood to promise anything. He could be very happy alone with Helen, but Alice would not be in his way. She was restful and helpful and sunny, and, as Jeff had once said of her to him, “Cool and good to look at, with her blue eyes and lily complexion.” He was quite willing she should be the third in his party, for he had an impression that she was a kind of ballast for Helen. That she should go with them was settled by the time they reached the hotel, and Helen’s “Thank you, Craig,” was very genuine as she arose for him to lift her from the buggy.