Madison, leaving the Patriarch, hastened forward politely.

“Mr. Madison,” said Hiram Higgins importantly, “this be the Patriarch’s grand-niece come to stay with him.”

From under a picture hat, Helena’s eyes smiled down at Madison.

“Oh, I am so glad to meet you, Mr. Madison,” she said cordially.  “Mr. Higgins has been telling me about you, and how good you have been to my—­my grand-uncle.”

“You are very kind to say so, Miss Vail,” responded Madison modestly.  “May I help you down?”

She gave him a daintily gloved hand, exposed a daintily stockinged ankle as she placed her foot a little hesitantly on the wheel, and jumped lightly to the ground.

“That,” she said quickly and a little anxiously for Mr. Higgins’ ears, indicating the Patriarch, “that is my grand-uncle there, I am sure.”

“Yes,” said Madison, leading her toward the Patriarch.  “And he has been looking forward very anxiously all day to your arrival—­it seemed as though the afternoon would never come for him.”

“Gee!” said Helena under her breath.  “I had the rubes in the village on the run—­you ought to have seen them stare as the chariot drove along.”

“I don’t wonder,” said Madison softly.  “The sun’s rather strong down here, Helena, and if you’re not careful you’ll scorch your neck with those burning-glasses you’ve got in your ears.”

“Don’t I look nice?” demanded Helena, with a pout.

“You bet you do!” said Madison earnestly.  “You’ve got the swellest thing on Broadway beaten from Forty-Second Street to the Battery.  Now, here you are”—­they had halted before the Patriarch.

The venerable face was turned toward them, as though by instinct the Patriarch knew that they were there—­and his hands were held out in greeting.

Helena clasped them firmly, and submitted sweetly as the Patriarch drew her into his arms.

The Patriarch released her after an instant, and his hands, in lieu of eyes, reaching out to search her face, came bewilderingly in contact with the picture hat.

Helena, a little uncertainly, looked at Madison.

“Is he all blind?” she whispered.

“Quite blind,” said Madison sadly.

Helena’s face clouded a little, and into the brown eyes crept a strange, sudden, sympathetic look.

“Doc,” she said, “it—­it isn’t fair.  It’s a shame—­he can’t fight back.”

“One error to you, Miss Vail,” said Madison pleasantly.  “Eliminate the ‘Doc.’  Don’t shed tears, you’re down here to be sweet to him, aren’t you—­well, get into the game.”

Helena turned from Madison, and, impulsively taking the Patriarch’s groping hands, guided them to her cheeks and held them there.

“Lucky dog!” observed Madison; then, raising his voice:  “I am sure you would like to be alone together, Miss Vail—­perhaps you will take him into the cottage.  If you will excuse me, I’ll help Mr. Higgins with the trunks.”