“Mrs. Grandon and Juno Cameron,” Mrs. Banker said, making some further remark to her son, while Helen felt that the brightness of the day had changed, for she could not be unconscious of the look with which she had been regarded by these two fashionable ladies, and again her _furs_ came up before her, bringing a felling of which she was ashamed, especially as she had fancied herself above all weakness of the kind. That night at the dinner, from which Mrs. Cameron was absent, Wilford was unusually gracious, asking “if she had enjoyed her ride, and if she did not find Mrs. Banker a very pleasant acquaintance.” Wilford felt a little uncomfortable at having suffered a stranger to do for Katy’s sister what should have been done by himself. Katy had asked him to drive with Helen, but he had found it very convenient to forget it, and take a seat instead with Juno and Mrs. Grandon, the latter of whom complimented “Miss Lennox’s fine intellectual face,” after they had passed, and complimented it the more as she saw how it vexed Juno, who could see nothing “in those bold eyes and that masculine forehead,” just because their _vis-à-vis_ chanced to be Mark Ray. Juno was not pleased with Helen’s first appearance in the street, but nevertheless she called upon her next day, with Sybil Grandon and her sister Bell. To this she was urged by Sybil, who, having a somewhat larger experience of human nature, foresaw that Helen would be popular just because Mrs. Banker had taken her up, and who, besides, had conceived a capricious fancy to patronize Miss Lennox. But in this she was foiled, for Helen was not to _be_ patronized, and she received her visitors with that calm, assured manner so much a part of herself. “Diamond cut diamond,” Bell thought, as she saw how frigidly polite both Juno and Helen were, each recognizing in the other something antagonistic, which could not harmonize. Had Juno never cared for Dr. Grant, or suspected Helen of standing between herself and him, and had Mark Ray never stopped at Silverton, or been seen on Broadway with her, she might have judged her differently, for there was something attractive in Helen’s face and appearance as she sat talking to her guests, with as much quiet dignity as if she had never mended Uncle Ephraim’s socks or made a pound of butter among the huckleberry hills. Bell was delighted, detecting at once traces of the rare mind which Helen Lennox possessed, and wondering to find it so. “I hope we shall see each other often,” she said, at parting. “I do not go out a great deal myself—that is, not so much as Juno—but I shall be always glad to welcome you to my _den_. You may find something there to interest you.”