“Stop!” Helen commanded. The motor-car turned into the Piazza San Lorenzo. “If you have anything to say about my husband,” she continued, “you had better say it direct to him.”
“May I?” cried Emory, leaning forward eagerly. He looked at Helen steadily for a moment, like a runner waiting for the pistol-shot to release him from his strained position at “set.” The girl returned his look with equal steadiness for only an instant before she read what was in his mind. Armstrong and Inez were just coming out through the cloister gates.
“May I?” Emory repeated.
“No!” Helen replied, quickly, sinking back against the cushions.
XVIII
Armstrong was most enthusiastic when he returned late the next afternoon, and Miss Thayer’s face reflected his own great satisfaction. The book was beginning to round into completeness, Cerini had placed upon it the stamp of his unqualified approval, and the author himself had reason to feel well pleased with the results of his tireless application. Helen watched the two as they came out into the garden where she and Uncle Peabody had been visiting. Yes, they were meant for each other. Helen could see this more plainly now even than before. Her husband had lost in weight and in color since he began his work at the library, but the slighter frame and paler face seemed more in keeping with the man whom she now knew. Inez had also changed. The individuality which Helen had always considered a striking characteristic of her friend while at school and later was now completely merged into that of the man beside her. They thought alike, talked alike, acted alike. That was what Jack preferred and what he needed, Helen admitted, and she felt a certain satisfaction that she was at least strong enough to see and to admit it.
“You seem to be very happy to-night, Jack.” Helen tried hard to be natural. “What pleasant thing has happened to you to-day?”
Armstrong drew up a chair for Inez and seated himself beside Helen. “Nothing in particular,” he replied, “except that I begin to see the end of my book in sight.”