‘Not unless you mean it,’ said Helena, coldly; ‘and, when you think how different our thoughts and wishes, and hopes and objects in life are, you will, I hope, hesitate before making more pretty speeches.’ ‘You are very severe. I think I had better say no more upon the subject. But,’ he added, with that air of almost affectionate interest which Helena believed she so greatly resented, ‘you are downcast and out of spirits to-night--not as you should be for your own birthday ball. How is it?’ In so matter-of-fact a tone was the question asked, that Helena scarcely felt it strange that he should put it, and began in a docile manner to explain. ‘How can I be otherwise? It is such nonsense. What is the good of having a ball? I don’t want a ball. I wanted to be quiet. I go about every day, from house to house, and see people starving--much better people than I am, or ever shall be--and then I have to come home and see money flung away on a ball--for me--because such an important personage has condescended to live twenty-one years in this horrid, grimy old world; and to put on a dress that has cost--no, I will never reveal all my shame, but I could tear my dress to pieces when I think of a woman whom I saw this afternoon, and who was crying as if her heart would break, because she had to pawn her husband’s and children’s Sunday clothes, and their best tea-things, that she had when she was married. I thought of this dress, which was got on purpose for me at Paris, and which cost about ten times as much as the materials that made it are worth,’ said Helena passionately, ‘and when I put it on, I felt as if I were putting on my shroud.’ ‘I am very sorry--only you won’t believe it, because I say so, but surely now it will be different? You must not get morbid. That never does any good. You will have wealth of your own now, and be your own mistress, when you can take your revenge on all these fine clothes, and go about in home-spun, or even sackcloth, if you choose.’ ‘Yes,’ said Helena dispiritedly, ‘I know; but I should not like it. I love expensive things, and I hate coarse and common ones. And I am beginning to think that perhaps I am not such a very fit person to have money. I have heard a great deal about money lately, and I don’t fancy it is so easy to manage as I used to think.’ ‘Miss Mereweather will assist you,’ he said, half smiling. ‘Don’t name Miss Mereweather to me,’ said Helena, with sudden animation. ‘She has deceived me cruelly. I never was so cut-up about anything.’ ‘What _has_ she done?’ ‘She has got married,’ said Helena, in a determined voice, as if anxious to get the worst over. ‘Got married!... Why ... and a very good wife she will make, if she has got the right sort of husband. I remember thinking, that evening I met her here, what a capital head of a large establishment she would make....’