"Yes, indeed, poor chap. And nobly he has done," and Shock told of The Don and of his work in the Pass.
"How good you have been," exclaimed Helen, "and how much you have done. I am so thankful, and so proud. We are all so proud of you."
"No," said Shock gravely, "that is not the word, Miss Fairbanks. There is no room for pride."
"Well, we think so," replied Helen. "You will come to see us? Mother will be so glad."
Helen was wondering at her own calmness. She could hardly make herself believe that she was talking to Shock, and so quietly, in this room where so short a time ago he had held her in his arms.
"I do not know," replied Shock. "It may be as well not to—not to see much—to see you."
Shock became unexpectedly conscious of their previous relations. The memory of that scene in which they had been the chief actors came vividly, before him. For weeks he had dreaded this interview, and now it was almost over. He felt like a man who, in the hour of victory, is unexpectedly threatened with defeat. Well, sooner or later he must speak his mind plainly; there would never be a better chance than now, and though he wished he could get back that perfect self-mastery of the past few minutes, he resolved to go through with it now. He took hold of himself with a stern grip.
Helen saw it in his face. A great fear seized her; She started up.
"Oh, I must run!" she exclaimed. "You will be sure to come and see us, Mr. Macgregor. Indeed, you must come."
Her manner was light, almost frivolous. Shock felt the change instinctively, read her fear, and decided that the moment for speech had passed.