Then the indomitable woman set to work at her old task of conjuring up before the girl’s eyes all the allurements that had so often made her heart throb; she, pictured Fairview and all its luxuries, and the admiration and power that must be hers when she was mistress of it; and she mentioned every other source of pleasure that she knew would stir Helen’s eager thirst.  After having hammered away at that theme until she saw signs of the effect she desired, she turned to the other side of the picture.

“Helen,” she demanded, “is it really possible for you to think of giving up these things and going back to live in that miserable little house at Oakdale?  Can you not see that you would be simply burying yourself alive?  You might just as well be as ugly as those horrible Nelson girls across the way.  Helen, you know you belong to a different station in life than those people!  You know you have a right to some of the beautiful things in the world, and you know that after this vision of everything perfect that you have seen, you can never possibly be happy in your ignorant girlish way again.  You have promised Mr. Harrison to marry him, and made him go to all the expense that he has; and you’ve told everybody you know, and all the world is talking about your triumph; and you’ve had Mr. Roberts go to all the trouble he has about your trousseau,—­surely, Helen, you cannot dream of changing your mind and giving all this up.  It is ridiculous to talk about it.”

“I don’t want to give it up,” protested the girl, moaning, “but, oh, I can’t—­”

“I know!” exclaimed the other.  “I’ve heard all that a thousand times.  Don’t you see, Helen, that you’ve simply got to marry him!  There is no other possibility to think of, and all of your weakness is that you don’t perceive that fact, and make up your mind to it.  Just see how absurd you are, to make yourself ill in this way.”

“But I can’t help it, Auntie, indeed I can’t!”

“You could help it if you wanted to,” vowed the other.  “I am quite disgusted with you.  I have told you a thousand times that this is all an imaginary terror that you are conjuring up for yourself, to ruin your health and happiness.  When you have married him you will see that it’s just as I tell you, and you’ll laugh at yourself for feeling as you did.”

“But it’s in the, meantime, Aunt Polly—­it’s having to think about it that frightens me.”

“Well, let me tell you one thing,” said Mrs. Roberts; “if I found that I couldn’t cure myself of such weakness as this, sooner than let it ruin my life and make everyone about me wretched, I’d settle the matter right now and forever; I’d marry him within a week, Helen!” And the resolute little woman clenched her hands grimly.  “Yes, I would,” she exclaimed, “and if I found I hadn’t strength enough to hold my resolution, I’d marry him to-morrow, and there’d be an end to it!”