"Y-yes, of course; only--the very words 'lady' and 'gentleman' have been so abused that we--we--Oh, Helen, Helen, you do put things so baldly, and it sounds so--so-- Don't you see, dear? It's all just as I've told you lots of times. The minute you begin to talk about it, you lose it. It's something that comes to you by absorption and intuition." "But there are things I have to learn, Mrs. Thayer,--real things, like holding your fork, and clothes, and finger nails, and not speaking so loud, and not talking about 'folks' being 'swell' and 'tony,' and--" "Yes, yes, I know," interrupted Mrs. Thayer, with a touch of desperation. "But, after all, it's all so--so impossible! And--" She stopped abruptly at the look of terrified dismay that always leaped to Helen Denby's eyes in response to such a word. "No, no, I don't mean that. But, really, Helen," she went on hurriedly, "the time has come when you must be seen more. And it will be quite safe at the shore, I am sure. You'll meet no one who ever saw you in Dalton; that is certain." "Then, of course, if you say I'll have to--I'll have to. That's all." "I do say it." "My, but I dread it!" Helen drew in her breath and bit her lip. "All the more reason why you should do it then," smiled Mrs. Thayer briskly. "You're to learn _not_ to dread it. See? And it'll be easier than you think. There are some very pleasant people coming down. The Gillespies, Mrs. Reynolds and her little Gladys,--about Betty's age, by the way,--and next month there'll be the Drew girls and Mr. Donald Estey and his brother John. Later there will be others--the Chandlers, and Mr. Eric Shaw. And I'm going to begin immediately to have them see you, and have you see them." "They'll know me as 'Mrs. Darling'?" "Of course--a friend of mine." "But I want to--to help in some way." "You do help. You help with the children--your companionship." "But that's the way I've learned--so many things, Mrs. Thayer." "Of course. And that's the way you'll learn--many other things. But there are others--still others--that you can learn in no way as well as by association with the sort of well-bred men and women you will meet this summer. I don't mean that you are _always_ to be with them, my dear; but I do mean that you must be with them enough so that it is a matter of supreme indifference to you whether you are with them or not. Do you understand? You must learn to be at ease with--anybody. See?" Helen sighed and nodded her head slowly. "Yes, I think I do, Mrs. Thayer; and I will try--so hard!" She hesitated, then asked abruptly, "Who is Mr. Donald Estey, please?" There was an odd something in Mrs. Thayer's laugh as she answered. "And why, pray, do you single him out?" "Because of something--different in your voice, when you said his name." Mrs. Thayer laughed again. "That's more cleverly put than you know, child," she shrugged. "I never thought of it before, but I fancy we all do say Mr. Donald Estey's name--with a difference."