from coming; for, Morris, I won't have any of Wilford Cameron's dressmakers in the house."
Morris could not help smiling at Helen's energetic manner as she hurried to his library and taking his pen wrote to Wilford Cameron as follows:
SILVERTON, May 9th.
Mr. WILFORD CAMERON: I give you credit for the kindest of motives in sending the check, which I now return to you, with my compliments. We are not as poor as you suppose, and would almost deem it sacrilege to let another than ourselves provide for Katy so long as she is ours. And furthermore, that Mrs. Ryan's services will not be needed, so it is not worth her while to make a journey here for nothing. Yours,
HELEN LENNOX.
Helen felt better after this letter had gone, wondering often how it would be received, and if Wilford would be angry. She hoped he would, and his mother too. "The idea of sending that Ryan woman to us, as if we did not know anything!" and Helen's lip curled scornfully as she thus denounced the Ryan woman, whose trunk was all packed with paper patterns and devices of various kinds when the letter arrived saying she was not needed. Being a woman of few words, she quietly unpacked her patterns and went back to the work she was engaged upon when Mrs. Cameron proposed her going into the country. Juno, on the contrary, flew into a violent passion to think their first friendly advances should be thus received. Bell laughed immoderately, saying she rather liked Helen Lennox's spirit, and almost wished her brother had chosen her instead of the other, who, she presumed, was a milk and water thing, even if Mrs. Woodhull did extol her so highly. Mrs. Cameron felt the rebuff keenly, wincing under it, and saying "that Helen Lennox must be a very rude, ill-bred girl," and hoping her son would draw the line of division between his wife and her family so tightly that the sister could never pass over it. She had received the news of her son's engagement without opposition, for she knew the time for that was passed. Wilford would marry Katy Lennox, and she must make the best of it, so she offered no word of remonstrance, but, when they were alone, she said to him: "Did you tell her? Does she know it all?"
"No, mother," and the old look of pain came back into Wilford's face. "I meant to do so, and I actually began, but she stopped me short, saying she did not wish to hear my faults, she would rather find them out herself. Away from her it is very easy to think what I will do, but when the trial comes I find it hard, we have kept it so long; but I shall tell her yet; not till after we are married though, and I have made her love me even more than she does now. She will not mind it then. I shall take her where I first met Genevra, and there I will tell her. Is that right?"
"Yes, if you think so," Mrs. Cameron replied.
Whatever it was which Wilford had to tell Katy Lennox, it was very evident that he and his mother looked at it differently, he regarding it as a duty he owed to Katy not to conceal from her what might possibly influence her decision, while his mother only wished the secret told in hopes that it would prevent the marriage; but now that Wilford had deferred it till after the marriage, she saw no reason why it need be told at all. At least Wilford could do as he thought best, and she changed the conversation from Genevra to Helen's letter, which had so upset her plans. That her future daughter-in-law was handsome she did not doubt, for Wilford said so, and Mrs. Woodhull said so in her letter of congratulation; but she, of course, had no manner, no style, and as a means of improving her in the latter respect, and making her presentable at the altar and in Boston, she had proposed sending out Ryan, as she was called in the family; but that project had failed, and Helen Lennox did not stand very high in the Cameron family, though Wilford in his heart felt an increased respect for her independent spirit, notwithstanding that she had thwarted his designs.
"I have another idea," Mrs. Cameron said to her daughters that afternoon, when talking with them upon the subject. "Wilford tells me Katy and Bell are about the same size and figure, and Ryan shall make up a traveling suit proper for the occasion. Of course there will be no one at the wedding for whom we care, but in Boston, at the Revere, it will be different. Cousin Harvey boards there, and she is very stylish. I saw some elegant gray poplins, of the finest luster, at Stewarts yesterday. Suppose we drive down this afternoon."
This was said to Juno as the more fashionable one of the sisters, but Bell answered quickly: "Poplin, mother, on Katy? It will not become her style, I am sure, though suitable for many. If I am to be fitted I shall say a word about the fabric. Get a little checked silk, as expensive as you like. It will suit her better than a heavy poplin."
Perhaps Bell was right, Mrs. Cameron said; they would look at both, and as the result of this looking, two dresses, one of the finest poplin, and one of the softest, richest, plaided silk were given the next day into Mrs. Ryan's hands, with injunctions to spare no pains or expense in trimming and making both. And so the dressmaking for Katy's bridal was proceeding in New York, in spite of Helen's letter; while down in Silverton, at the farmhouse, there were numerous consultations as to what was proper and what was not, Helen sometimes almost wishing she had thrown off her pride and suffered Mrs. Ryan to come. Katy would look well in anything, but Helen knew there were certain styles preferable to others, and in a maze of perplexity she consulted with this and that individual, until all Silverton knew what was projected, each one offering the benefit of her advice until Helen and Katy both were nearly distracted. Aunt Betsy suggested a blue delaine and round cape, offering to get it herself, and actually purchasing the material with her own funds, saved from drying apples. That would answer for one dress, Helen said, but not for the wedding; and she was becoming more and more undecided, when Morris came to the rescue, telling Katy of a young woman who had for some time past been his patient, but who was now nearly well and anxious to obtain work again. She had evidently seen better days, he said; was very ladylike in her manner, and possessed of a great deal of taste, he imagined; besides that, she had worked in one of the largest shops in New York. "As I am going this afternoon over to North Silverton," he added, in conclusion, "and shall pass Miss Hazelton's house, you or Helen might accompany me and see for yourself."
It was decided that Helen should go, and about four o'clock she found herself ringing at the cottage over whose door hung the sign: "Miss M. Hazelton, Fashionable Dressmaker." She was at home, so said the little slipshod girl who answered the ring, and in a few moments Helen was talking with Marian Hazelton, whose face showed signs of recent illness, but, nevertheless, very attractive, from its peculiarly sad expression and the soft liquid eyes of dark blue, which looked as if they were not strangers to tears. At twenty she must have been strikingly beautiful; and even now, at thirty, few ladies could have vied with her had she possessed the means for gratifying her taste and studying her style. About the mouth, so perfect in repose, there was when she spoke a singularly sweet smile, which in a measure prepared one for the low, silvery voice, which had a strange note of mournful music in its tone, making Helen start as it asked: "Did you wish to see me?"
"Yes; Dr. Grant told me you were—" Helen paused here, for though Marian Hazelton's dress indicated poverty, the words "were wanting work" seemed at variance with her whole being, and so she changed her form of speech, and said instead: "Told me you could make dresses, and I drove around with him to secure your services, if possible, for my sister, who is soon to be married. We would like it so much if you could go to our house instead of having Katy come here."
Marian Hazelton was needing work, for there was due more than three months' board, besides the doctor's bill, and so, though it was not her custom to go from house to house, she would, in this instance, accommodate Miss Lennox, especially as during her illness her customers had many of them gone elsewhere, and her little shop was nearly broken up. "Was it an elaborate trousseau she was expected to make?" and she bent down to turn over some fashion plates lying upon the table.
"Oh, no! we are plain country people. We cannot afford as much for Katy as we would like; besides, I dare say Mr. Cameron will prefer selecting most of her wardrobe himself, as he is very wealthy and fastidious," Helen replied, repenting the next instant the part concerning Mr. Cameron's wealth, as that might look like boasting to Miss Hazelton, whose head was bent lower over the magazine
