But Katy’s path lay far from Dr. Grant’s, and only Wilford Cameron had A right to say whither she should go or when return.  He was standing by her now, making a few suggestions and expressing his approbation in a way which reminded Helen of that night before the marriage, when Katy’s dress had been condemned, and of that sadder, bitterer time when she had poured her tears like rain into that trunk returned.  All she had thought of Wilford then was now more than confirmed, but he was kind to her and very proud of Katy, so she forced back her feelings of disquiet, which, however, were roused again when she saw the dark look on his face, as Katy, at the very last, ran to the nursery to kiss baby again, succeeding this time in waking it, as was proven by the cry that made Wilford scowl angrily and brought to his lips a word of rebuke for Katy’s childishness.

“You are like a girl with her first doll,” he said, as he opened the door for her to pass, and Helen, though she felt the truth of the remark, knew there was no necessity for him to throw so much of lordly displeasure into his manner, and make poor Katy look so distressed and worried as they drove rapidly along the streets to Mrs. Banker’s.

The party was not so large as that at Sybil Grandon’s, but it was more select, and Helen enjoyed it better, meeting people like Morris, who readily appreciated the peculiarities of her mind, and who would have made her forget all else around her if she had not been a guest at Mark Ray’s house.  It was the first time she had met him away from home since the night of Mrs. Grandon’s, and as if forgetful of her reserve, he paid her numberless attentions, which, coming from the master of the house, were the more to be valued.

With a quiet dignity Helen received them all, the thought once creeping into her heart that she was preferred, notwithstanding that engagement.  But she soon repudiated this idea as unworthy of her.  She could not be wholly happy with one who, to win her hand, had trampled upon the affections of another, even if that other were Juno Cameron.

And so she kept out of his way as much as possible, watching her sister admiringly as she moved about with an easy, assured grace, or floated like a snow flake through the dance in which Wilford persuaded her to join, looking after her with a proud, all-absorbing feeling, which left no room for Sybil Grandon’s coquettish advances.

As if the reappearance of Katy had awakened all that was weak and silly in Sybil’s nature, she now put forth her full powers of attraction, but met only with defeat.  Katy, and even Helen, was preferred before her—­both belles of a different type; but both winning golden laurels from those who hardly knew which to admire most—­Katy, with her pure, delicate beauty and charming simplicity, or Helen, with her attractive face and sober, quiet manner.  But Katy grew tired early.  She could not endure what she once did; and when she came to Wilford with a weary look upon her face and asked him to go home, he did not refuse, though Mark, who was near, protested against their leaving so soon.