This was really the case. She had not recognized the phrase. There was no use for it in Shannon. The worst thing she had ever heard was Sammy Duncan swearing at the cat. Her reading had been sternly censored. Mrs. Adams took no morning paper, “on account of Helen”; a magazine, yes; and there were Scott’s novels. These had been the girl’s text books of love. She had never even read the Song of Solomon. Mrs. Adams had forbidden her this richer scriptural food. “You won’t understand it,” the mother had said. And Helen obediently skipped it when she turned the pages of her Bible. She had secretly wondered why Solomon was in the Bible anyway. He was not a proper person, if one believed the preacher, and one must do that. Neither was David all he should have been by all accounts. But here she veered again and merely learned her Psalms, making no inquiries into the author’s private life, which was very ladylike of her. In short, brought up according to a standard of innocence which amounted to a deformity, at this moment she was stripped of every weapon by which she might have defended herself against an iniquitous doctrine. George decided not to go too fast with his teaching on this subject, for he was determined that she should learn it and accept it. He kissed her hand instead and told her that she was all there was of love so far as he was concerned. CHAPTER VI From this time their affair progressed with reeling swiftness. Helen assumed an air of independence, as if she had suddenly come into possession of a private fortune. This is ever the effect of riches upon the meekest of us. She was now a lovely young insurrection in her mother’s house. She had opinions and expressed them boldly in opposition to those of her mother. This had never happened before. Mrs. Adams was astonished, but she conformed to the natural order of parents. She abdicated, merely trailing clouds of futile protests as she descended, also after the manner of parents. You may manage a son in love by putting the financial brakes on him; but you can do literally nothing with a daughter in love, because her sense of responsibility is purely devotional and sentimental. She will risk a husband because she will not be obliged to support him. This is the difference, which she may discover afterwards does not exist. But she thinks it does, which comes to the same thing. If you are a girl you cannot stir up any great issue. Helen simply made those within her reach. For one thing she decided to wear “pink.” “But blue is your color,” Mrs. Adams objected. “But it is not one of my principles, mother. I am tired of blue. I have worn it all my life as a rabbit wears one kind of skin. I’m human. I can wear any color.” And she did. She tried every shade of the rainbow that summer. She was extravagant. “Helen, where are your economies?” Mrs. Adams exclaimed, as if she referred to certain necessary fastenings on the feminine character.