Helen did not answer, nor did she half realize the question, so lost was she in her own misery. She sat gazing at her aunt, while the latter went on: “You have had your way in one thing, at any rate, Helen; Mr. Harrison is downstairs to see you.”
The girl gave a slight start, but then she answered quietly: “Thank you, Auntie; I shall go down and see him.”
“Helen,” said Mrs. Roberts, “do you still refuse to tell me anything of what I ask you?”
Helen was quite too much humbled to wish to oppose anyone just then; and she answered mournfully, “What is it that you wish?”
“I wish to know in the first place why you wanted to see Mr. Harrison.”
“I wanted to see him to tell him that I could not marry him, Aunt Polly.”
And Mrs. Roberts sat down opposite Helen and fixed her gaze upon her. “I knew that was it,” she said grimly. “Now, Helen, what in the world has come over you to make you behave in this fashion?”
“Oh, it is so much to tell you,” began the girl; “I don't know—”
“What did you find at Hilltown?” went on her aunt persistently. “Did you see Arthur?”
“No, Aunt Polly, that is what is the matter; he has gone.”