HELEN'S SECRET.
BUT to-morrow, her mood had changed. And when, as soon as they were
comfortably seated in the cars, he urged her to relieve his mind, and
tell him all she knew of the youth who bore his precious father's name,
she quietly refused.
"It is not my secret; I have no right to know it. I did not obtain my
information honorably. That is, I overheard a conversation not intended
for my ear, and I did not allow my presence to be discovered even when
I might. I was spellbound. I could not have stirred for the world. And
now I would not be ignorant of what I heard; no, not for every dollar
dear papa left me."
It was all in vain Frank expressed his horror and surprise and grief
that she was so reserved, she only shook her head.
"No," she repeated drawing up her dainty little neck, and putting on an
air of defiance, "No, I can take care of myself, if I am only sixteen.
If it ever becomes necessary, I will tell you. Now let us talk of
something more agreeable."
"But, Helen, remember that I promised Father to watch over you as
tenderly as he could have done. You must explain your unaccountable
behaviour. I will not go back to College, and leave you so. Between
wonder and anxiety, I scarcely slept at all last night."
"Do you want me to become a laughing-stock for all these people?" she
inquired, her cheeks crimson with excitement. "I should be crying
before I said ten words."
She turned suddenly away to the window and for some time appeared
absorbed in the prospect without. But at last, hearing her brother sigh
repeatedly, she touched his hand and said humbly:
"Don't worry, Frank. I'm a bad girl; and I'm afraid I shall grow worse,
with all sorts of hard feeling rankling in my breast; but when we
are at home, we will take a walk to my pretty arbor, and I'll make a
full confession of all that concerns myself. That's what I'm going to
Maytown for, you know. Come, Mr. Junior, can't you be agreeable? With
that solemn face, our neighbors will think you are my jealous lover, or
a very stern guardian, which you are not."
A few hours later the happy pair, for the time throwing behind them all
anxious thoughts, wandered off from the cottage of their old nurse to
the garden and grove belonging to the estate.
The place had been rented for two years by an aged couple who were in
search of quiet, and who gladly gave permission to the youthful owners
to ramble wherever they pleased.
"I can breathe here," cried Helen, expanding her chest and inhaling
large draughts of the sweet, fresh country air. "The fragrance from the
flowers and the new mown lawn is perfectly delightful."
Then with a sudden change of tone and manner, she turned to her
brother, stopping in her walk, and inquired:
"Frank, what would be the result if we told Mr. Tracy that we preferred
Mr. Knowles for our guardian?
"But, Sis, under the circumstances Mr. Knowles would not accept the
trust."
"What if I could persuade him? Don't you remember what he said the day
we left dear papa under the sycamore trees?
"'If you are ever in trouble, my child, come to me as to a father. My
heart and my home are ever open to receive the children of my best
parishioner.'"
Frank walked for some distance in silence, his sister closely and
rather impatiently watching him.
"I am not sufficiently acquainted with the law, to understand whether
wards have a right to change their guardian except for some delinquence
in regard to the trust. Perhaps Mr. Tracy would be glad to be rid of
the responsibility."
"No, he would not!" exclaimed Helen, in great excitement. "He would not
give it up if he could keep it against our wish."
"Now, Sis, I will not go on talking in this blind way. Here is our
rustic seat, and we are as retired as if we were in the midst of a
great forest. Sit down, and tell me everything that has occurred since
I left you."
"Well, I will."
She threw herself on the seat and for one moment covered her face with
her hands, shuddering visibly.
"Are you trying to torture me, Helen?" inquired Frank, seizing her hand
and pulling it from her face; "if so, you have succeeded well."
"Oh, Frank! I hate Mr. Tracy and Roswell. I despise Mrs. Tracy for
being the wife of her husband. And I despise Helen Edmond more than
all. I'm growing worse and worse every day; I'm freezing up, as you
call it. I'm growing hard and defiant, and unforgiving. I'm forgetting
all dear papa's instructions. I'm getting to hate prayer, or grace at
table. Oh, I'm horrid! And the worst of it is, I'm afraid I shall never
be any better."
"Helen, Mr. Tracy is a Christian. You ought not to talk so."
"If he is, I'll try hard never to become one. But I know he is not. I
might have believed it, if I had never known our precious papa. I might
have imagined that religion was talking about churches and ministers,
going to church one half of every pleasant Sunday, reading prayers in a
loud, monotonous voice, and in the meantime doing every mean, selfish,
ungrateful thing, under the cloak of piety.
"Thank God, I have seen one good Christian. I have seen him live, and
I have seen him die." Her voice faltered and for a moment she lost
self-control.
But with an effort, she quickly resumed: "I have seen a man whose heart
was kept pure, and therefore sweet, healthy streams flowed from the
living fountain. A man who thought little of himself except so to live
as to do honor to his Saviour, but who thought much of others in his
efforts to make them happier and better,—a man whose name, perhaps, was
never seen in public print, but which was engraven on the hearts of all
who knew him,—a man who confessed himself a sinner, though in the sight
of others he was a saint,—a man whom Jesus loved and comforted in his
dying hours. Yes, I'm sure there are Christians."
Frank sat and gazed at his sister in wonder. Her eyes by turns melting
and defiant, her head erect, her cheeks crimson with excitement, her
tongue loosened and the words flowing with the greatest rapidity from
her lips. For one instant, the thought crossed his mind that a fever
was burning in her veins and affecting her reason, but one recollection
of her talk before starting with old nurse, just like her old self, put
such fears to flight.
He clasped her hand tenderly exclaiming, "Sis, I can't make it out. I
don't know you. I believe you're not Helen after all."
"That's just it," she answered, with a loud laugh that distressed him
beyond measure. "I'm not Helen, papa's darling, who meant to try and be
good and meet her papa in heaven. I'm another girl, all bad, 'bad,' and
nothing to help me be good. How will it all end?"
"Helen, do you think Mr. Tracy a bad man? Have you a sufficient reason
for thinking so? If you have, tell me what it is, and I will take you
away from him, if I lose my fortune by the means. But if you have any
pity on me, don't give up so."
"I distrust Monson P. Tracy, Frank. He may be a shrewd business man.
Papa thought him so. But I consider him wholly without principle; and
then he is eaten up with selfishness. I verily believe he imagines
there is only one man in the United States whose opinion is worth
taking, and that man is Monson P. Tracy. He may be honest in this
belief; and cheat himself into the idea that he is noble, generous,
upright and honorable; but I'm sure he doesn't cheat his Maker."
"Nor does he seem to have cheated you, Sis. But you give no proofs."
"Perhaps I cannot. One must live with him to see how thoroughly a man
can make clean the outside of the platter while the inside is full of
corruption."
"You never used to be so bitter, Helen! I couldn't have believed it was
in you. Remember who says 'Judge not.'"
She sighed. "Perhaps you would become bitter too, if you were obliged
to put a constant restraint on your feelings, to listen day after
day to a discourse on Christian duty, which was after all only an
opportunity for self-glorification, and knew,—what you knew. If you
heard a man planning all sorts of iniquity to blast the happiness of
one under his charge, and then was obliged to listen to his prayers."
She started as if to leave the spot; but he seized her hand.
"You must not run away," he said firmly.
"I wish I could run away from myself. I loathe the thought of harboring
such hard, bitter, defiant feelings. I loathe myself for being obliged
to live with those so utterly distasteful to me, to accept common
civilities from their hands while all the time I hate them. Oh, it is
indeed dreadful!"
"Helen, tell me, what iniquity has Mr. Tracy planned to blast your
happiness?"
She shook her head, her eyes flashing. "I cannot tell you. It would be
dishonorable. They think me young and capable of being moulded to—to,
well no matter, to what. No, I must not tell you yet; but I promise
that if anything occurs to make it impossible for me to reside under
the same roof, I will tell you."
"Do you imagine I can go back to my studies with the thought that my
only sister, left to my care by our dying father, is in circumstances
of peril, all the more alarming to me because I cannot even guess at
the nature of it?"
A quick gush of tears for a moment relieved poor Helen's agitation. But
with a wonderful self-control, she quickly recovered herself. Throwing
her arms around her brother's neck, she exclaimed passionately:
"It might be worse,—I might not have had you."
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