“Do you?” he said, touched by the sight. Charley Ashton did not know how many other troubles in poor Helen’s heart found grateful outlet in those tears. They dropped upon her dress and frightened her lest any one else should see them, but the young man was altogether melted by Helen’s emotion. “That shall be my best reason for loving--at least for liking her too,” he said. “Thank you for showing me how much you care for her. What a lucky inspiration I had to come to Sainte-Barbe! I had been just thinking of you, wondering if you would be much changed--if, perhaps, I should find you at Fareham.” “I think I am very much changed,” she said, sadly shaking her head--while he looked at her, smiling, with a look of subdued yet tender admiration. He did not venture to look all he felt, yet he could not keep it from appearing. “Yes, I think you are changed,” he said, with a confused laugh. She was thinking of the last week, he of the last five years. He had admired her then as a child--for Helen had been tall and precocious. Now he could not tell her how much more he admired her as a woman, and Helen was too sadly preoccupied to interpret justly the lingering glance that dwelt upon her. She had never had any lover, nor was she at all aware that the vicar’s son had any special recollection of her; that he should recognise her at all, filled her with surprise. But at the same time the sense of something sympathetic by her side, of some one who was young like herself, and English, and looked kindly at her, gave the girl a sense of consolation. He laughed, but certainly he meant nothing unkind. The moment after, young Ashton gave Helen, all unawares, a sudden blow which forced her back upon herself. He said with a little eagerness, but calmly, as if it were the most ordinary question in the world, “Do you go back soon to Fareham? I have come home on sick leave. I shall have only a little while at home. I hope I shall see you while I am there.” “Oh!” said Helen, trembling all over with the shock, “I do not know--papa has never told me. Perhaps--we may not be back for a long time; perhaps--not at all. I don’t know.” “Not back at all! Has Mr Goulburn sold it?” young Ashton said, and his changed countenance grew long. He was as much disappointed as she was startled; and for a moment both looked, though from very different reasons, as though not at all indisposed to mingle their tears. “I don’t know,” said Helen. She looked away from him, her voice shook,--there was trouble indescribable in her face. And he remembered that he had been gone for four years; that he had not heard very much about them for some time back; that many changes might happen, especially in the fortunes of a man in business, however great he might be, and apparently beyond the assaults of fortune. What could young Ashton say or do to show his sympathy? He did not even know how far he might inquire.