“What?” challenged Helen.
“I see Scuddy leading out from Trinity some day the loveliest girl in Winnipeg.”
“Oh, I won't talk about Scuddy,” said Helen impatiently. “I want to talk about you. Tell me about this Chicago business.”
For the rest of the way home she led Larry to talk of his plans for the future. At her door Helen held out her hand. “You won't come in, Larry, I know, so we will say good-bye here.” Her voice was gentle and earnest. The gay, proud, saucy air which she had ever worn and which had been one of her chief charms, was gone. The moonlight revealed a lovely wistful face from which misty eyes looked into his. “This is the end of our good times together, Larry. And we have had good times. You are going to be a great man some day. I wish you all the best in life.”
“Thank you, Helen,” said Larry, touched by the tones of her voice and the look in her eyes. “We have been good friends. We shall never be anything else. With my heart I wish you—oh, just everything that is good, Helen dear. Good-bye,” he said, leaning toward her. “How lovely you are!” he murmured.
“Good-bye, dear Larry,” she whispered, lifting up her face.
“Good-bye, you dear girl,” he said, and kissed her.
“Now go,” she said, pushing him away from her.
“Be good to Scuddy,” he replied as he turned from her and hurried away.
He broke into a run, fearing to be late, and by the time he arrived at the Allens' door he had forgotten all about Helen Brookes and was thinking only of Jane and of what he wanted to say to her. At the inner door he met Macleod and Ethel coming out.