“Well,” and Helen twisted her napkin ring nervously, waiting for him to say more; but her manner, so different from Katy’s, disconcerted him, making him a little uncertain what might be hidden behind that rigid face, confronting him so steadily, a little doubtful as to the expression it would put on when he had said all he meant to say.

He did not expect it to wear a look as frightened and hopeless as Katy’s did when he last saw it upon the pillow, for he knew how different the two sisters were, and much as he had affected to despise Helen Lennox, he was afraid of her now.  It had never occurred to him before that he was somewhat uncomfortable in her presence, that her searching brown eyes held him often in check; but it came to him now that his wife’s sister was in his way, for what could he do with a will almost as firm as his own, and she was sure to take Katy’s part.  He saw it in her face, even though she had no idea of what he meant to say.

“Well;” that was the last sound heard in the quiet room; but since its utterance the relative positions of the two individuals sitting opposite each other had changed.  Wilford regarding Helen as an obstacle in his path, and Helen regarding him as a tyrant contemplating some direful harm against her sister.

He must explain some time, and so at last he continued:  “You must have seen how opposed Katy is to complying with my wishes, setting them at naught, when she knows how much pleasure she would give me by yielding as she used to do.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Helen replied, “unless it is her aversion to going out, as that I think is the only point where her obedience has not been absolute.”

Wilford did not like the words “obedience” and “absolute;” that is, he did not like the sound.  Their definition suited him, but Helen’s enunciation was at fault, and he answered quickly:  “I do not require absolute obedience from Katy.  I never did; but in the matter to which you refer, I think she might consult my wishes as well as her own.  There is no reason for her secluding herself in the nursery as she does.  Do you think there is?”

He put the question direct, and Helen answered it.

“I do not believe Katy means to displease you, but she has conceived a strong aversion for festive scenes, and besides baby is not healthy, you know, and like all young mothers she may be over-anxious, while I fancy she has not the fullest confidence in the nurse, and this may account for her unwillingness to leave the child with her.”

Kirby was all that was desirable, Wilford replied.  His mother had taken her from a genteel, respectable house in Bond Street, and he paid her an enormous price, consequently she must be right; and then there came out the story how his mother had decided that neither Katy nor baby would improve so long as they remained together—­that for both a separation was desirable—­that she had recommended sending