“I hope he admired it as much as I did,” said the unfortunate railroad-president.
“I'm afraid he didn't,” said Helen, trying to turn the matter into a laugh.
“He didn't!” exclaimed Mr. Harrison, in surprise. “Pray, why not?”
He asked the question of Mr. Howard, and Helen shuddered, for fear he might begin with that dreadful “There are always three persons concerned, you know.” But the man merely said, very quietly, “My criticism was of rather a technical nature, Mr. Harrison.”
“I'm sure, for my part I thought her playing wonderful,” said the gentleman from Cincinnati, to which the other did not reply.
Helen felt herself between two fires and her vexation was increasing every moment; yet, try as she might, she could not think of anything to change the subject, and it was fortunate that the watchful Aunt Polly was on hand to save her. Mrs. Roberts was too diplomatic a person not to see the unwisdom of putting Mr. Harrison in a position where his deficiencies must be so very apparent, and so she came over, determined to carry one of the two men away. She was relieved of the trouble by the fact that, as she came near, Mr. Howard rose, again with some pain as it seemed to Helen, and asked the girl to excuse him. “I have been feeling quite ill today,” he explained.
Helen, as she saw him walk away with Mrs. Roberts, sank back with a sigh which was only half restrained. “A very peculiar person,” said Mr. Harrison, who was clever enough to divine her vexation.”
“Yes,” said the girl, “very, indeed.”
“He seemed to be lecturing you about something, from what I saw,” added the other. The remark was far from being in the best taste, but it pleased Helen, because it went to justify her to herself, and at the same time offered her an opportunity to vent her feelings.
“Yes,” she said. “It was about music; he was very much displeased with me.”