Helen nodded assent, while in her heart was a wild tumult of feelings—flattered pride, disappointment, indignation, and mortification all struggling for the mastery—mortification to feel that she who had quietly ignored such a passion as love when connected with herself, had, nevertheless, been pleased with the attentions of one who was only amusing himself with her, as a child amuses itself with some new toy soon to be thrown aside—indignation at him for vexing Juno at her expense—disappointment that he should care for such as Juno, and flattered pride that Mrs. Cameron should include her in “our family.” Helen had as few weak points as most young ladies, but she was not free from them all, and the fact that Mrs. Cameron had taken her into a confidence which even Katy did not share, was soothing to her ruffled spirits, particularly as after that confidence, Mrs. Cameron was excessively gracious to her, introducing her to many whom she did not know before, and paying her numberless little attentions, which made Juno stare, while the clear-seeing Bell arched her eyebrows, and wondered for what Helen was to be made a _cat’s paw_ by her clever mother. Whatever it was it did not appear, save as it showed itself in Helen’s slightly changed demeanor when Mark again sought her society, and tried to bring back to her face the look he had left there. But something had come between them, and the young man racked his brain to find the cause of this sudden indifference in one who had been pleased with him only a short half hour before. “It’s that confounded waltzing which disgusted her,” he said, “and no wonder, for if ever a man looks like an idiot, it is when he is kicking up his heels to the sound of a fiddle, and whirling some woman whose skirts sweep everything within the circle of a rod, and whose face wears that die-away expression I have so often noticed. I’ve half a mind to swear I’ll never dance again.”