A burst of laughter greeted her innocent remark, at which Dorothy flushed rosily, to find a joke had been played upon her; then, quietly returning the bill to its place, she passed the wallet to Mr. Hamilton, and observed demurely:
"I guess auntie knows what she is about, and where to find more when she wants it," at which a second outburst brought a dimple into her own cheeks.
"Dorothy, I did not think that of you! Do you know what faithful Mrs. Micawber was in the habit of saying to Mr. Micawber?" inquired Mr. Hamilton, with an assumption of severity.
"Yes, sir; but I don't think Mr. Micawber was in the habit of playing tricks upon Mrs. Micawber," retorted Dorothy, the mischievous dimples deepening, while Mrs. Hamilton applauded gleefully with both hands.
"So you are going to desert me, if I play tricks upon you! Well, I can't afford to lose my sweetheart, so we will try to be good friends—at least until we reach New York, and I promise you auntie shall not suffer for pretty things," said the gentleman, bestowing a fond look upon her and a smile upon his wife.
"Oh, Uncle Horace, I wish you were going to live in New York, too," the girl observed wistfully. "If I could only have you, and Aunt Belle, and Grace Winthrop, I would be perfectly happy."
"You will miss Grace, but you will find nice friends wherever you go," said Mrs. Hamilton kindly; then the conversation turned upon plans for the coming trip.
The next few days were busy ones, and Monday morning found the party of four en route for the East; and with her good friends to bear her cheerful company Helen bade a final farewell to her "Valley of Achor," and turned her face toward the rising sun, with something of hope in her heart, to begin anew the battle of life for herself and her child, in a great, unknown city.
Upon their arrival in New York, the Hamiltons helped her to find and furnish a small apartment in a good location, these faithful friends manifesting a keen enjoyment and interest in their work that was most inspiring to Helen.
It certainly was a very attractive little nest when the last touches were put to it—"a haven of rest," she told them, after her battle with the rough storms and winds that had wrecked her bark and left her bruised and broken upon the barren shore of despair.