Helen was left seated in the chair, where she remained for several minutes, leaning forward with her head in her hands, and gazing steadily in front of her, thinking very grave thoughts. She rose at last, however, and brushed back the hair from her forehead, and went slowly towards the door. It would have seemed lack of feeling to her, had she thought of it, but even before she had reached the stairs the scene through which she had just passed was gone from her mind entirely, and she was saying to herself, “If I could only know where Arthur is this afternoon!” Her mind was still full of that thought when she entered the room, where she found her aunt seated just as she had left her, and in no more pleasant humor than before. “You have told him, I suppose?” she inquired. “Yes,” Helen said, “I have told him, Aunt Polly.” “And now you are happy, I suppose!” “No, indeed, I am very far from that,” said Helen, and she went to the window; she stood there, gazing out, but with her thoughts equally far away from the scene outside as from Mrs. Roberts' warnings and sarcasms. The latter had gone on for several minutes before her niece turned suddenly. “Excuse me for interrupting you, Aunt Polly,” she said; “but I want to know whether Mr. Howard has gone yet.” “His train goes in an hour or so,” said Mrs. Roberts, not very graciously. “I think I will see if he is downstairs,” Helen responded; “I wish to speak to him before he goes.” And so she descended and found Mr. Howard seated alone upon the piazza. Taking a seat beside him, she said, “I did not thank you when I left you in the carriage, Mr. Howard, for having been so kind to me; but I was so wrapped up in my worry--” “I understood perfectly,” put in the other. “I saw that you felt too keenly about your discovery to have anything to say to me.” “I feel no less keenly about it now,” said Helen; “but I could not let you go away until I had spoken to you.” She gazed very earnestly at him as she continued: “I have to tell you how much you have done for me, and how I thank you for it from the bottom of my heart. I simply cannot say how much all that you have shown me has meant to me; I should have cared for nothing but to have you tell me what it would be right for me to do with my life,--if only it had not been for this dreadful misfortune of Arthur's, which makes it seem as if it would be wicked for me to think about anything.” Mr. Howard sat gazing in front of him for a moment, and then he said gently, “What if the change that you speak of were to be accomplished, Miss Davis, without your ever thinking about it? For what is it that makes the difference between being thoughtless and selfish, and being noble and good, if it be not simply to walk reverently in God's great temple of life, and to think with sorrow of one's own self? Believe me, my dear friend, the best men that have lived on earth have seen no more cause to be pleased with themselves than you.”