which works eighteen hours a day to keep itself amused, but after the death of her husband she had disappeared into the country as completely as though she had entered a convent, and after several years had then re-entered the world as a professional philanthropist.  Her name was now associated entirely with Women’s Leagues, with committees that presented petitions to Parliament, and with public meetings, at which she spoke with marvellous ease and effect.  Her old friends said she had taken up this new pose as an outlet for her nervous energies, and as an effort to forget the man who alone had made life serious to her.  Others knew her as an earnest woman, acting honestly for what she thought was right.  Her success, all admitted, was due to her knowledge of the world and to her sense of humor, which taught her with whom to use her wealth and position, and when to demand what she wanted solely on the ground that the cause was just.

She had taken more than a fancy for Helen, and the position of the beautiful, motherless girl had appealed to her as one filled with dangers.  When she grew to know Helen better, she recognized that these fears were quite unnecessary, and as she saw more of her she learned to care for her deeply.  Helen had told her much of Carroll and of his double purpose in coming to London; of his brilliant work and his lack of success in having it recognized; and of his great and loyal devotion to her, and of his lack of success, not in having that recognized, but in her own inability to return it.  Helen was proud that she had been able to make Carroll care for her as he did, and that there was anything about her which could inspire a man whom she admired so much to believe in her so absolutely and for so long a time.  But what convinced her that the outcome for which he hoped was impossible, was the very fact that she could admire him, and see how fine and unselfish his love for her was, and yet remain untouched by it.

She had been telling Lady Gower one day of the care he had taken of her ever since she was fourteen years of age, and had quoted some of the friendly and loverlike acts he had performed in her service, until one day they had both found out that his attitude of the elder brother was no longer possible, and that he loved her in the old and only way.  Lady Gower looked at her rather doubtfully and smiled.

“I wish you would bring him to see me, Helen,” she said; “I think I should like your friend very much.  From what you tell me of him I doubt if you will find many such men waiting for you in this country.  Our men marry for reasons of property, or they love blindly, and are exacting and selfish before and after they are married.  I know, because so many women came to me when my husband was alive to ask how it was that I continued so happy in my married life.”

“But I don’t want to marry any one,” Helen remonstrated, gently.  “American girls are not always thinking only of getting married.”