Wilford was no niggard with his money, and when Katy had asked for more, it had been given unsparingly, even though he knew the purpose to which it was to be applied. "Oh, Katy, Katy, why did you do it?" Helen cried, her tears falling like rain through the fingers she clasped over her eyes. "You are not angry?" Katy said, in some dismay, as Helen continued to sob without looking at the handsome furs, the stylish hat, the pretty cloak, and rich patterns of blue and black silk, which Mrs. Banker had selected. "No, oh, no!" Helen replied. "I know it was all meant well; but there is something in me which rebels against taking this from Wilford. He had better have sent to Silverton for that trunk. Its contents have never been disturbed, and surely there might be something found good enough for me." It was the first time Helen had alluded to that trunk; but Katy did not think that anything ill-natured was meant by the remark. She only felt that Helen shrank from receiving so much from Wilford, as it was natural she should, and she hastened to reassure her, using all her powers to comfort her until she at last grew calm enough to examine and admire the Christmas gifts upon which no expense had been spared. Much as we may ignore dress, and sinful as is an inordinate love for it, there is yet about it an influence for good, when the heart of the wearer is right, holding it subservient to all higher, holier affections. At least Helen Lennox found it so, when, clad in her new garments, which added so much to her good looks, she drove with Mrs. Banker, or returned Sybil Grandon's call, feeling that there was about her nothing for which Katy need to blush, or even Wilford, who blandly invited her one pleasant day to drive with him to the Park, seeming so disappointed when told that he had been forestalled by Mr. Ray, whose fine turnout attracted less attention that afternoon than did the handsome lady at his side, Helen Lennox, who bade fair to rival even her Sister Katy tarrying at home, and listening with delight to the flattering things which Wilford reported as having been said of Helen by those for whose opinion he cared the most. He was not afraid to be seen with her now, and Helen, while knowing the reason of the change, did not feel like quarreling with him for it, but accepted with a good-natured grace of what made her life in New York very happy. With Bell Cameron she was on the best of terms; while Sybil Grandon, always going with the tide, professed for her an admiration, which, whether fancied or real, did much toward making her popular; and when, as the mistress of her brother's house, she issued cards of invitation for a large party, she took especial pains to insist upon Helen's attending, even if Katy were not able. But from this Helen shrank. She could not meet so many strangers alone, she said, and so the matter was dropped, until Mrs. Banker offered to chaperone her, when Helen began to waver, changing her mind at last