“Just leave me alone,” she said. “I do not feel very well. And don't tell father I am here yet.”
“Your father, Miss Helen!” exclaimed the woman; “didn't you get his letter?”
“What letter?” And then poor Helen was made aware of another trouble.
“Mr. Davis wrote Mrs. Roberts last night,” answered the servant. “He's gone away.”
“Away!” cried the girl. “Where to?”
“To New York.” Then the woman went on to explain that Mr. Davis had been invited to take the place of a friend who was ill, and had left Oakdale for a week. Helen understood that the letter must have reached her aunt after her own departure.
“Dear me!” the girl exclaimed, “How unfortunate! I don't want to stay here alone.”
But afterwards it flashed over her that if she did she might be able to have a week of quiet to regain her self-possession. “Mr. Harrison couldn't expect to visit me if I were alone,” she thought. “But then, I suppose he could, too,” she added hastily, “if I am engaged to him! And I could never stand that!”
“Miss Helen,” said the servant, who had been standing and watching her anxiously, “you look very ill; is anything the matter?”
“Nothing,” Helen answered, “only I want to rest. Leave me alone, please, Elizabeth.”