“Yes,” answered the girl, “I feel so sorry for poor Mr. Howard.”
“He seemed to be rather ill last night,” said the other. He was going to add that the fact perhaps accounted for the invalid's severity, but he was afraid of shocking Helen by his levity,—a not entirely necessary precaution, unfortunately.
“You are going back to town this morning, with the others?” Helen asked.
“No,” said Mr. Harrison, somewhat to her surprise; “I have a different plan.”
“Good Heavens, does he suppose he's going to stay here with me?” thought the girl.
“I received your aunt's permission to ask you,” continued Mr. Harrison, “and so I need only yours.”
“For what?” Helen inquired, with varied emotions.
“To drive you over to Oakdale with my rig,” said the other. “I had it brought down, you know, because I thought there might be a chance to use it.”
Helen had turned slightly paler, and was staring in front of her.
“Are you not fond of driving, then, Miss Davis?” asked the other, as she hesitated.