"Is he so very important, then?" "In his own estimation--yes! There! I was wrong to say that, Helen, and you must forget it. Mr. Donald Estey is a very wealthy, very capable, very delightful and brilliant young bachelor. He is a little spoiled, perhaps; but that's our fault and not his, I suspect, for he's petted and made of enough to turn any man's head. He's very entertaining. He knows something about everything. He can talk Egyptian scarabs with my brother, and Irish crochet with me, and then turn around and discuss politics with my husband, and quote poetry to Phillis Drew in the next breath. All this, of course, makes him a very popular man." "But he's a--a real gentleman, the kind that my husband would like?" "Why, of--of course!" Mrs. Thayer frowned slightly; then, suddenly, she laughed. "To tell the truth he's very like your husband, in some ways, I've heard my brother say--tastes, temperament, and so forth." An odd something leaped to Helen Denby's eyes. "You mean, what _he_ likes, Burke likes?" she questioned. "Why, y-yes; you might put it that way, I suppose. But never mind. You'll see for yourself when you see him." "Yes, I'll see--when I see him." Helen Denby nodded and relaxed in her seat. The odd something was still smouldering in her eyes. "Then it's all settled, remember," smiled Mrs. Thayer. "You're not to run and hide now when somebody comes. You're to learn to meet people. That's your next lesson." "My next lesson--my next lesson," repeated Helen Denby, half under her breath. "Oh, I hope I'll learn so much--in this next lesson! I won't run and hide now, indeed, I won't, Mrs. Thayer!" And at the glorified earnestness of her face, Mrs. Thayer, watching, felt suddenly her own throat tighten convulsively. In spite of her valiant promise, Helen Denby, a week later, did almost run and hide when the Gillespies, the first of Mrs. Thayer's guests, arrived. Held, however, by a stern something within her, she bravely stood her ground and forced herself to meet Mr. and Mrs. Gillespie and their daughters, Miss Alice and Miss Maud. It was not so difficult the next week when Mrs. Reynolds came, perhaps because of the pretty little Gladys, so near her own Betty's age.