CHAPTER XVII.
AS WHEAT IS SIFTED.
At two o'clock Helen rang the bell of Mrs. Everleigh's palatial home on Riverside Drive. A man in livery admitted her, swept herself and her card with a comprehensive glance as she laid the bit of pasteboard upon his tray, obsequiously bowed her into an elegantly appointed reception room, and disappeared.
Five minutes later Mrs. Everleigh came to her. Helen had thought her a rarely beautiful woman when she had seen her in church, more than four months previous; but she seemed a hundredfold more lovely now, dressed all in simple white, her abundant snowy hair coiled becomingly about her head, her only ornament an exquisite chain of turquoise set in silver and almost the color of her peaceful eyes, and her lips wreathed in sunny, welcoming smiles.
"Mrs. Ford, I am more than glad to see you," she said, as she cordially clasped Helen's hand. "And now, if you will allow me to waive the formalities of a first call, I am going to ask you to come up to my private sitting room, where we can be wholly by ourselves."
Helen thanked her, and followed her up the grand stairway, noting the costly furnishings of the great hall, the rare paintings, statuary, bric-a-brac, et cetera, on every hand; and almost gave vent to an exclamation of childish delight as she was ushered into an exquisite boudoir on the second floor, and which was furnished throughout in blue and white; the great chandelier in the center of the ceiling, and other appliances for lighting, together with many beautiful vases, being all of crystal or expensive cut glass.
"What an ideal setting for an ideal woman!" she said to herself, as she entered the room.
"Come and sit here, Mrs. Ford," said Mrs. Everleigh, as she preceded her to a great bow window, where there were two inviting rockers, with hassocks to match, a pretty onyx table on which rested a small easel supporting the photograph of a beautiful young girl, and, standing beside it, a costly cut-glass vase filled with fresh forget-me-nots.
"What a lovely nook!" was Helen's involuntary tribute, as she sank into the luxurious chair offered her. "And, oh, that view!" she added, with a quick indrawn breath, as her glance fell upon the scene without, where, between splendid great trees, all glorious in their brilliant fall attire of red, yellow, and green, glimpses of the river, flashing in the sunlight, with the darker hills beyond, made a picture that one could never forget.
"Yes, it is a scene of which I never tire," returned her hostess, as she took the other rocker, and thoughtfully pushed a hassock nearer her guest.
"I hope, Mrs. Everleigh, I have not seemed intrusive in asking to come to you?" Helen observed, after a moment or two, during which she sat silently drinking in the beauty before her. "But your kindness to me that day in church emboldened me to beg the favor."