"Oh, mother," cried Helen, "I am very happy."
"Well, darling, it makes me happy to hear you say so. Has—has Mr. Lloyd spoken to you?"
"Mr. Lloyd?" Helen laughed gleefully. "No, mother, he knows better than that. Oh, mother, Shock loves me."
"What! Has he dared to speak-after promising—"
"No, mother, he has not spoken, not with his lips. But I know it, I know it, and oh, I am so glad."
"What of his plain declaration to me that he had given you up?"
"Oh, I don't care, mother. He has not changed," cried the happy girl. "He loves me just the same as ever."
"And what of the girl Mr. Ambherg told us of?"
"No, mother, there is no other girl," cried Helen. "I don't care who told you."
"Helen, I am ashamed of you," exclaimed her mother, angrily. "Dear mother," said Helen, falling on her knees and putting her arms about her mother, "I cannot help loving him, and I cannot help being happy. Oh, mother, he is splendid. You ought to have heard him to-night, and you ought to have seen the people. Why, the ministers almost hugged him. And oh, mother, mother, as he came down and passed my seat, he turned and looked at me. He did not expect to see me, and he was off his guard, and then I knew, oh, I knew. He is just the same. Oh, mother, be happy with me."