She had meant to lay the matter before Helen this very afternoon, then she suddenly changed her mind. If the examination went against her, she would be the more grateful, if in her favor, it would be a card at Mrs. Aldred's. She would let the others plan, and amuse herself with upsetting their confident arrangements. So they talked, instead, about places. Helen never tired of listening. Her vivid imagination pictured the scenes, while here she smiled a little, there her straight brows drew together in a little frown of condemnation, then the heroic appealed to her. It was so pretty to note the changes. Two years from this time would she be anxious about gowns and trinkets and frivolity of all kinds? Girls were risky creatures before their characters were really formed. Yes, it would be wise not to commit one's self too far to draw back, or substitute other plans. "When is your old lady going away?" asked Uncle Jason, when he came in on Saturday. "Mother thinks she can't spare you more than next week. There's the house to clean, and the weddin' cake to make, and the children have to have new clothes, and goodness only knows all." "But I was to have her a week in September," said Mrs. Dayton. "If Jenny is to be home----" "Well, she'll be over to her house gettin' ready. We didn't make any such fuss when we were married. We got spliced and looked after things afterward. Well, Helen--how is it? I'm afraid you're 'most spoiled for living among common folks any more." Helen's face was scarlet, as she glanced into this roughened sun-burned one. "You've come to be such a lady," he went on admiringly. "Mebbe it wasn't for the best. You really ought to be somewhere else and grow up into the kind of women there is in stories. And your hands are so soft, there isn't a freckle in your face. There's mighty little Mulford about you!" "Oh, Uncle Jason!" She flung her soft arms about his neck, immeasurably touched by the tone of his voice. Her eyes shone with the tenderness of tears. She laid her fond lips to his rough cheek with a delicate caress. "Whatever comes," she began, after a pause, "remember that I do sincerely love you, and that I believe you would be willing to do the best for me if it was in your power." "Your head's level there, child," with a tremble in his voice, and he kissed her fondly, a rare thing with him. She watched him as he went down the path and climbed into the old wagon. "I feel mean, and underhand, and deceitful," she cried passionately, turning to Mrs. Dayton. "I like to live along just on the square, and how the thing will ever get told, and whether Aunt Jane will let me stay, and whether it is all right, and why you should want things that seem out of your reach, and why someone should rise up and forbid you mounting the ladder that stands just at hand--oh dear!" and Helen burst into a flood of tears.