Helen was gazing at the other with real earnestness, and the words were sinking deep into her soul, deeper than words generally sunk there.  She felt her cheeks burning, and her frame stirred by a new emotion; she had seldom before thought of anything but the happiness of the hour.

“Just think of it, my love,” continued Mrs. Roberts, “and know that that is what your old auntie was thinking of when you were only a little tiny girl, sitting upon her knee, and when you were so beautiful that artists used to beg to have you pose for them.  I never said anything about it then, because you were too young to understand these things; but now that you are to manage yourself, I have been waiting for a chance to tell you, so that you may see what a prize is yours if you are only wise.  And if you wonder why I have cared so much and thought so much of what might be yours, the only reason I can give is that you are my niece, and that I felt that any triumph you might win would be mine.  I want you to win a higher place in the world than mine, Helen; I never had such a gift as yours.”

Helen was silent for a minute, deeply thoughtful.

“Tell me, Auntie,” she asked, “and is it really true, then, that a woman is to train herself and grow beautiful and to have so much trouble and money spent upon her—­only for her marriage?”

“Why of course, Helen; what else can a woman do?  Unless you have money and a husband you cannot possibly hope to accomplish anything in society.  With your talents and your beauty you might go anywhere and rule anywhere, but you have to have money before you can even begin.”

“But where am I to meet such a rich man, Aunt Polly?” asked Helen.

“You know perfectly well where.  Do you suppose that after I have worried myself about you all this time I mean to desert you now, when you are at the very climax of your glory, when you are all that I ever dared dream of?  My dear Helen, I am more interested in you just now than in anything else in the world.  I feel as a card player feels when millions are at stake, and when he knows that he holds the perfect hand.”

“That is very nice,” said Helen, laughing nervously.  “But there is always a chance of mistake.”

“There is none this time, Helen, for I am an old player, and I have been picking and arranging my hand for long, long years; and you are the hand, my love, and the greatest glory of it all must be yours.”

Helen’s heart was throbbing still faster with excitement, as if she were already tasting the wonderful triumph that was before her; her aunt was watching her closely, noting how the blood was mounting to her bright cheeks.  The girl felt herself suddenly choking with her pent up excitement, and she stretched out her arms with a strange laugh.

“Auntie,” she said, “you tell me too much at once.”

The other had been marshaling her forces like a general during the last few minutes, and she felt just then as if there were nothing left but the rout.  “All that I tell you, you may see for yourself,” she said.  “I don’t ask you to take anything on my word, for you have only to look in the glass and compare yourself with the women you meet.  You will find that all men will turn their eyes upon you when you enter a room.”