Helen was quite fascinated with all the adornments. There were dainty partitions, velvet rooms, Helen called them, boxes in which rings were dropped, a mound to lay the bracelets, where a tiny ridge kept them from slipping, a hook for the pendants, and a case for the pins. The girl placed them in deftly, as only a person who really loved them could. To her their sparkle seemed the flame of a spirit. Then the laces were laid in their boxes. Helen hung up the soft silk gown, the petticoats with their lace and ruffles, the night dress was donned and a pretty wrapper over it, the slippers exchanged for some soft knit ones. As for her hair--perhaps she slept in it, for that was never taken down until after the girl went away. "Now are you comfortable?" "Yes. Helen, how did you come by so many pretty ways? I do not believe they abound in your aunt's house." "No, they do not." Helen laughed in soft apology. "I think because everything is nice and dainty here, and everybody is----" How could she explain it. "No, you're not quite so much of a chameleon as that. It is something from the inside, that was born with you. And you must have the opportunity of developing it. There child, good-night." Mrs. Van Dorn felt suddenly in a glow. She would do a good deed, help this girl to her true place, cast some bread upon the waters and have it return to her presently. Three years. She hoped Helen would grow tall and keep slim, her eyes were beautiful, her complexion clear and fine if a little sun-burned. She had nice hands, too, now that she was taking care of them. She was quick to see any improvement, she had adaptiveness and a pleasant temper. She would make an attractive young woman at seventeen, and she would owe it all to her. She _must_ love her benefactress. Why, this was something to live for! Helen sat on the far end of the stoop step. There were two rows of steps. This commanded the kitchen porch, as well as the dining room. Most of the boarders were up at the other end, where two hammocks were slung, but this was a favorite nook of hers when she wanted to think. Mrs. Dayton came out presently, having finished her talk with Joanna. "Are you homesick or lonesome?" she inquired. "Was everybody glad to see you to-day." "The children were. I think Aunt Jane was a little hurt because I didn't come and stay over Sunday." "Do you want to go next Saturday? Though what we could do with Mrs. Van Dorn I don't know." "I think I do not want to go," Helen made answer slowly. "Oh, Mrs. Dayton," and she stretched out her hand in entreaty, "can't you sit down here a few moments. I want to talk to someone. I want to know whether I am right, or wrong and ungrateful. And I have a half plan if--if----" "What is it, child?" The girl's tone appealed to her strongly, and she sat down beside her.