The Burrells came face to face with their hostess in the wide hall.
“I wondered what had happened to you,” said Helen, leaving West, who
strolled into the billiard-room, and joining the group. “Have the girls
been enjoying themselves?” she asked, turning, with a smile, from the
mother to the three daughters.
“Oh, yes, we’ve all been having a lovely time!” Mrs. Burrell replied,
her eyes shining with enthusiasm.
“Oh, yes, lovely!” the girls cried together.
“Of course,” Mrs. Burrell went on, with a wistful look, “after my
daughters get better acquainted they’ll have more partners.”
“Ma!” exclaimed Carrie Cora.
“But let me introduce you to some of the gentlemen,” said Helen,
solicitously. “We’ll go back into the drawing-room.”
“No,” Burrell interposed. “We must go home. We ought to have gone long
ago. I’m sorry not to have had a chance to talk with your husband about
that law case of mine, Mrs. Briggs.”
“I’ll speak to him about it, Mr. Burrell,” said Helen. “Now that
Congress is nearly ready to adjourn, he’ll have more time. Is it to
come before the New York courts?”
The old man nodded. “Those New York men have infringed on my patents,
confound ’em! Mrs. Briggs, there ain’t anybody else I’d trust as I do
your husband. He’s been a brick to me ever since I come here. He’s the
only one of the big fellows in Congress that’s taken any notice of me,
an’ I guess I appreciate it. An’ the girls, they think you’re just
perfect.”
“I’m only sorry I couldn’t do more for you, Mr. Burrell,” said Helen,
with a smile.
Mrs. Burrell led the way toward the staircase, the others following,
with the exception of Carrie Cora.
“Oh, Mrs. Briggs!” the girl exclaimed, impulsively, “I have something
to tell you. But I--I mustn’t stay a minute.”
“What is it, dear?”
“He’s come to Washington,” Carrie Cora whispered. “He got here this
morning.”
“Why didn’t you bring him to-night?”
“I wanted to,” Carrie Cora replied, breathlessly. “I wanted him to meet
you. I’ve told him so much about you, and what a help you’ve been to
me. But I was afraid of ma. She was furious when he came to the hotel.
He sent his card up, just as bold, and ma didn’t want to let me go down
to see him. But I did. And oh, he’s--he’s just as handsome as ever!”
She turned her face away, to hide the tears in her eyes.
“My poor girl,” said Helen, taking her hand.
It was at an afternoon tea that the strange girl had confided to Helen
Briggs the story of her baffled love-affair. Since that time Helen had
often thought of it with a pity none the less real because it had the
relief of amusement.
“And he wanted me to go right out, just as I was, and get married. He
said he’d call a carriage.”
“I’m glad you didn’t, dear,” said Helen, trying to keep from smiling.
“I think I would have gone--only I just had my every-day dress on, and
I looked horrid! It seemed so foolish to go like that. And now I’m
sorry I didn’t. I never shall have the courage again.”
“You’re sorry?”
“Yes, because ma says that I’m not to see him any more. She made an
awful fuss. That’s what I wanted to speak to you about. Won’t you
please talk to ma? He’s just as good as he can be, and even if he isn’t
very successful he earns enough for two. That’s all I care about.”
“But what can I say to your mother, dear? I don’t even know him.”
Carrie Cora looked down and began to rub the carpet with her foot.
“Well, ma thinks everything of you, and if you’d just--just ask her to
let him come to see me, that would be something. I’m sure she’ll like
him when she understands him better. Pa likes him, but pa is afraid to
oppose ma in anything, except when he gets roused.”
Helen patted the girl’s hand affectionately. “Well, dear, I’ll go to
see your mother to-morrow. I’ll take her out for a drive. Then we can
have a good talk together.”
Carrie Cora impulsively threw her arms around Helen’s neck. “Oh, Mrs.
Briggs!” she cried. Then she drew back, ashamed. “It’s silly of me to
act like this, isn’t it, before all these people? But I must go now.
They’ll wonder what has happened to me. Good-night, dear Mrs. Briggs.”
During Helen’s talk with the girl Franklin West had appeared at the
back of the hall with M. de Lange, whom he seemed to know. As soon as
the girl disappeared the two men walked toward Helen.
The Frenchman drew his heels together and made another of his low
bows, which West observed with the amused superiority of the American,
scornful of decorative politeness.
“I have been waiting to say good-night, madame. Your reception, it is
most beautiful! The flowers, the pretty women! Ah, you Americans, you
are wonderful!”
West interposed coolly: “Well, we do things in pretty good style over
here, that’s a fact.”