She saw Helen give a start, but she could not read the girl’s mind, and did not know how much she had done to estrange her by those words.  It was as if Helen’s whole soul had shrunk back in horror, and she sat staring at her aunt with open eyes.

“I suppose you think,” the other went on grimly, “that I am going to share all this wonderful sentimentality with you about that boy; but I assure you that you don’t know me!  He may get you to weep over him because he chooses to behave like a fool, but not me.”

Helen was still for a moment, and then she said, in an awe-stricken voice:  “Aunt Polly, I have wrecked Arthur’s life!” Mrs. Roberts responded with a loud guffaw, which was to the other so offensive that it was like a blow in the face.

“Wrecked his life!” the woman cried scornfully.  “Helen, you talk like a baby!  Can’t you know in the first place that Arthur is doing all this high-tragedy acting for nothing in the world but to frighten you?  Wrecked his life!  And there you were, I suppose, all ready to get down on your knees to him, and beg his pardon for daring to be engaged, and to promise to come to his attic and live off bread and water, if he would only be good and not run away!”

Mrs. Roberts’ voice was bitter and mocking, and her words seemed to Helen almost blasphemy; it had never occurred to her that such grief as hers would not be sacred to anyone.  Yet there was no thought of anger in her mind just then, for she had been chastened in a fiery furnace, and was too full of penitence and humility for even that much egotism.  She only bowed her head, and said, in a trembling voice:  “Oh, Aunt Polly, I would stay in an attic and live off bread and water for the rest of my days, if I could only clear my conscience of the dreadful thing I have done.”

“A beautiful sentiment indeed!” said Mrs. Roberts, with a sniff of disgust; and she stood surveying her niece in silence for a minute or two.  Then smothering her feelings a little, she asked her in a quieter voice, “And so, Helen, you are really going to fling aside the life opportunity that is yours for such nonsense as this?  There is no other reason?”

“There is another reason, Aunt Polly,” said Helen; “it is so dreadful of you to ask me in that way.  How CAN you have expected me to marry a man just because he was rich?”

“Oh,” said the other, “so that is it!  And pray what put the idea into your head so suddenly?” She paused a moment, and then, as the girl did not raise her head, she went on, sarcastically, “I fancy I know pretty well where you got all of these wonderful new ideas; you have not been talking with Mr. Howard for nothing, I see.”

“No, not for nothing,” said Helen gently.

“A nice state of affairs!” continued the other angrily; “I knew pretty well that his head was full of nonsense, but when I asked him here I thought at least that he would know enough about good manners to mind his own affairs.  So he has been talking to you, has he?  And now you cannot possibly marry a rich man!”