In planning his new residence, Clifford Alexander had arranged for a delightful suite of rooms which he placed at Helen's disposal, with a pressing invitation that she would make her future home with Dorothy and himself.
Helen was deeply touched by this evidence of his sincere regard for her, but she gently declined, telling him she thought a newly wedded couple should begin their life and home making alone with each other; while, too, she would not be willing to give up her work for a long while yet; hence she must have her studio in the city, and it would be better for her to live there, as usual.
"But you have labored continuously for many years—you have spent your life for this dear girl"—bending a fond look upon his fiancée—"whom I have won away from your nest. Now come and rest, and play with us—at least, for a while," the young man had urged.
And Dorothy had also pleaded:
"Do come, mamma, dear; it will be lovely to have you with us."
"I do not deny that my 'nest' will be lonely without her," Helen had replied, smiling bravely through a mist of sudden tears; "but I could not be idle, and the nestling must learn to use her own wings. All the same," she went on, more brightly, "I am not going to allow you to forget in the days to come that you have added a mother-in-law to your list of responsibilities, and I warn you that I intend to drop in upon you often enough to keep you both upon your best behavior."
"Well, madam mother-to-be," said Mr. Alexander, smiling at her threat, "the rooms are there—they were planned for you, and I hope some time to see you very comfy in them. I would not impose any sense of obligation upon you; I wish you to be happy in your own way, but please bear in mind always that it would give us great pleasure to have you with us."
Helen lifted a searching look to his face.
"Pardon me; but are you sensitive regarding my occupation—my career?" she inquired.
He laughed out softly as he read her meaning.