They stopped now and then to discuss some point, but Mrs. Van Dorn was going over several other considerations. An ordinary country girl with the sweetest temper in the world would not have given her more than a passing pleasure. This girl was quite out of the ordinary with her intelligence and her quick understanding. She would love all the finer arts of life. Her enthusiasm was really infectious. That was what one needed when one was going down the other side of the great divide. And she didn't really belong to anybody. Clara would never forget her mother and sisters, and if they were ill she would want to fly to them. This girl was not comfortable in her home, she would not sigh for it. And she might adore her, for there was a kind of worship in her nature. To be adored by a young girl who might have been her grandchild, the child of the daughter she had longed for and never had. Helen glanced up hesitatingly. "Oh, I'm not asleep," laughingly. "I was thinking. You have a fine voice, so strong and clear, and not aggressive. Don't you sing?" "Oh, yes. When I am out in the fields I sing with the birds." "But you have never had lessons in elocution?" "Mr. Warfield taught me that the best reading was entering into the spirit of the writer, imagining yourself in the scenes that are described, or taking part in any conversation. And he said when I recited that last day of school, I must be the Captains and Hervé Riel, just as if I was leading in the ships." Her face was in a glow, her eyes luminous. "How old is Mr. Warfield?" Helen Grant's father had married one of his young pupils, Mrs. Van Dorn remembered. "Oh, I don't know, a real young man. He has only been at the Center a year." Mrs. Van Dorn nodded with her chin, a way she had. "He is quite in earnest about your going to the High School?" she continued. "He thinks I could teach, and I should like that so much." She flushed daintily recalling the other half secret she had touched upon with Mrs. Dayton. "The girl is capable of love and all that nonsense," thought Mrs. Van Dorn. Why should she not come to love her? CHAPTER VI HOW THEY ALL PLANNED "Helen," began Mrs. Dayton, "I was thinking if you would like to go home on Saturday and make your visit it might be a good thing. We have made no real plans about the winter as yet, but we might like to presently." There was a half mirthful, half meaning light in her eyes. "Oh!" Helen said. She was not longing for the visit. Her cool reception by her aunt had really hurt her. "Time is going so fast. Why, here it is only two weeks and a half to September." "If you think I had better," very soberly. "Yes, I do. It would look rather underhand if you went home and said nothing when we had settled upon certain intentions." "Yes, I understand."