“Helen,” said Hope Oswald, “this is Miss Maxwell.” Hope intended to add something pretty—to say that they were like each other, and should be friends; but it would not do, for Hope too, after her own peculiar fashion, was shy; so she withdrew abruptly and left her friends to improve their acquaintance by themselves.
“I am very glad to see you, Miss Maxwell,” said Helen, earnestly; and then she too stopped and became embarrassed, and looked at the door for her mother—but her mother did not come: and Helen glanced up with admiration and quick liking into the quiet pensive face whose steadiness she could not but envy, and felt her own variable countenance burn as she repeated,—“indeed I am very glad to see you.”
“You are very kind,” said the composed and gentle Lilias, who was less swiftly moved than Helen. “Hope told me you had compassion on my solitude, Miss Buchanan, and encouraged me to ask you to cheer it;—and I had confidence in Hope.”
“But you must have no confidence in Hope as regards us,” said Helen, recovering herself, “for Hope is my sworn knight, and has been my mother’s favourite all her life:—will you come and see my mother?”
Mrs Buchanan was prepared for them by Hope’s kind warning, and had little more than time to remove some small matters of preparation for their simple mid-day meal from the fire, when the famed young lady of Mossgray entered the parlour with Helen.
And then as Lilias, the motherless, received the cheerful kindly greeting which people call motherly, Helen saw that the face of the Lily of Mossgray was not an unexpressive one; that the large dark blue eyes were cast down to hide unshed tears, and that even in the pleasure which Mrs Buchanan’s welcome gave her, the anguish of the solitary and desolate came over the orphan’s heart.
They were soon friends—friends so warmly and speedily that Hope Oswald started in glad surprise when Mrs Buchanan invited Lilias to remain with them, until it should be time for Mrs Oswald’s juvenile Hallowe’en party, and Lilias consented with goodwill. Here was a master-stroke! To have the Lily of Mossgray, at present the admired of all admirers, come direct from the humble house of Helen Buchanan! Hope repeated to herself as she went home the commendation of Miss Swinton, and ventured to believe it true.
“What will my father think?” mused Hope; and she hurried to the office to beg him, as an especial favour, himself to come with her to the grocer’s to lay in a stock of nuts for the important transactions of the evening.
“Wait till after dinner, Hope,” said the banker, graciously; and Hope waited till after dinner; then, when the lights began to shine out one after another in the main street of Fendie—the more dignified shops of Fendie are resplendent in the glories of gas—and Hope was quite sure that her friend Adelaide would be getting ready to start, and that she herself would scarcely have time to assume the new silk frock which Mrs Oswald feared could not fail to receive extensive damage this evening, her father at last was ready to accompany her, and they proceeded to make their important purchase.
There was a good deal of the mist of frost in the bracing, pleasant air; but high above the haze was a cold, distinct, full moon. It did not cast down a very clear light however through the veil which hung between the earth and the sky, and the youngsters in the Main Street of Fendie decidedly preferred the shop-windows.