Here was a dilemma which Helen had anticipated and which she met promptly. “Of course not,” she said, in the tone which usually subdued her mother. “Have you forgotten that Craig is coming back on Saturday? What would he say to find us gone, and what use for you to fatigue yourself with a journey to New York just to chaperone me? No, mamma; make yourself comfortable with Celine and don’t worry about me. If there are any errands I can do for you I may perhaps have the time. I can at least see the fashions.” Mrs. Tracy was not convinced and to the last insisted that if Helen must go she or Celine ought to go with her. “I tell you I prefer to go alone, and if I can’t do that I’ll not go at all,” Helen said, and that decided it. When Uncle Zach was told of the arrangement and asked to have Paul and Virginia ready to take her to the station for the noon train, he was at once on the alert for the reputation of his house. “Got malary here! That can’t be. There ain’t no sweeter drain in the state. Dot never pours bean water in it and keeps it stuffed with copperas all the time. No, sir! ’Tain’t malary. It’s bile, and boneset tea is good for that. Dot’ll steep you some.” Helen declined the boneset and insisted upon New York. “Wall, then, why not wait till night? Mark is goin’ on the eight train, and will see to you,” was Mr. Taylor’s next suggestion, and when Helen declined Mark’s company, as she had the boneset, saying she preferred to go at noon, he continued: “Of course we’ll send you down; and what do you say to Mark’s tacklin’ up Dido? She or’to be used before she knocks the stable to pieces. She’s kicked off two boards already.” From this proposition Helen recoiled. To have Mark drive her to the station after Dido would be the acme of cruelty and insult to Craig. “No, no,” she said. “I don’t want Dido. Let Sam take me when he goes to the train.” “Mebby that will be best, as Mark is kinder busy lookin’ over papers and castin’ up accounts,” was Uncle Zach’s reply, as he went to order Sam to have the carriage and Paul and Virginny ready for the noon train. Helen felt like a guilty thing as she made her preparations, and once resolved to give it up. Going to the office where she found Mark alone, she said to him, “I can’t do it. I’d rather stay and brave mother and Craig than sneak off this way.” “Very well,” Mark said, looking at her with an expression before which her eyes fell. “Suit yourself,” and he turned to his papers again. “Do you wish to give it up?” she asked timidly, and he replied, “Certainly not for myself. But I know you, and that between your mother and Mr. Mason I should get the worst of it and lose you, while you might lose us both.” This was a catastrophe which Helen did not care to contemplate. She had staked everything and could not lose. “I’ll go,” she said. Mark put out his hand and taking one of hers pressed it warmly as he said, “My darling, you shall never regret it.”