“Helen,” she demanded, “is it really possible for you to think of giving up these things and going back to live in that miserable little house at Oakdale? Can you not see that you would be simply burying yourself alive? You might just as well be as ugly as those horrible Nelson girls across the way. Helen, you know you belong to a different station in life than those people! You know you have a right to some of the beautiful things in the world, and you know that after this vision of everything perfect that you have seen, you can never possibly be happy in your ignorant girlish way again. You have promised Mr. Harrison to marry him, and made him go to all the expense that he has; and you've told everybody you know, and all the world is talking about your triumph; and you've had Mr. Roberts go to all the trouble he has about your trousseau,—surely, Helen, you cannot dream of changing your mind and giving all this up. It is ridiculous to talk about it.”
“I don't want to give it up,” protested the girl, moaning, “but, oh, I can't—”
“I know!” exclaimed the other. “I've heard all that a thousand times. Don't you see, Helen, that you've simply got to marry him! There is no other possibility to think of, and all of your weakness is that you don't perceive that fact, and make up your mind to it. Just see how absurd you are, to make yourself ill in this way.”
“But I can't help it, Auntie, indeed I can't!”
“You could help it if you wanted to,” vowed the other. “I am quite disgusted with you. I have told you a thousand times that this is all an imaginary terror that you are conjuring up for yourself, to ruin your health and happiness. When you have married him you will see that it's just as I tell you, and you'll laugh at yourself for feeling as you did.”
“But it's in the meantime, Aunt Polly—it's having to think about it that frightens me.”
“Well, let me tell you one thing,” said Mrs. Roberts; “if I found that I couldn't cure myself of such weakness as this, sooner than let it ruin my life and make everyone about me wretched, I'd settle the matter right now and forever; I'd marry him within a week, Helen!” And the resolute little woman clenched her hands grimly. “Yes, I would,” she exclaimed, “and if I found I hadn't strength enough to hold my resolution, I'd marry him to-morrow, and there'd be an end to it!”
“You don't realize, Helen, how you treat Mr. Harrison,” she went on, as the girl shuddered; “and how patient he is. You'd not find many men like him in that respect, my dear. For he's madly in love with you, and you treat him as coldly as if he were a stranger. I can see that, for I watch you, and I can see how it offends him. You have promised to be his wife, Helen, and yet you behave in this ridiculous way. You are making yourself ill, and you look years older every day, yet you make not the least attempt to conquer yourself.”
So she went on, and Helen began to feel more and more that she was doing a very great wrong indeed. Mrs. Roberts' sharp questioning finally drew from her the story of her reception of Mr. Harrison's one kiss, and Helen was made to seem quite ridiculous and even rude in her own eyes; her aunt lectured her with such unaccustomed sternness that she was completely frightened, and came to look upon her action as the cause of all the rest of her misery.
“It's precisely on that account that you still regard him as a stranger,” Mrs. Roberts vowed; “of course he makes no more advances, and you might go on forever in that way.” Helen promised that the next time she was alone with Mr. Harrison she would apologize for her rudeness, and treat him in a different manner.