Helen, secretly dismayed and terrified, boldly flaunted the flag of courage.

"Did I? Oh, no," she laughed easily. "Still, I'm not so sure but I am a little glad: if he's unhappy, all the more chance for you to make yourself indispensable by helping him and making him happy. See?"

"Happy!" scoffed Betty with superb disdain; "why, the man doesn't know what the word means."

"But perhaps he has seen--a great deal of trouble, dear." The mother's eyes were gravely tender.

"Perhaps he has. But is that any reason for inflicting it on other people by reflection?" demanded Betty, with all of youth's intolerance for age and its incomprehensible att.i.tudes. "Does it do any possible good, either to himself or to anybody else, to retire behind a frown and a grunt, and look out upon all those beautiful things around him through eyes that are like a piece of cold steel? Of course it doesn't!"

"Oh, Betty, how can you!" protested the dismayed mother again.

But Betty, with a laugh and a spasmodic hug that ended in a playful little shake, retorted with all her old gay sauciness:--

"Don't you worry, mumsey. I'm a perfect angel to that man." Then, wickedly, she added as she whisked off: "You see, I haven't yet had a chance to poke even one finger inside of one of those cabinets!"

It was three days later that Betty, having put on her hat and coat at Denby House, had occasion to go back into the library to speak to her employer.

"Mr. Denby, shall I--" she began; then fell back in amazement. The man before her had leaped to his feet and started toward her, his face white like paper.

"Good G.o.d!--_you!_" he exclaimed. The next instant he stopped short, the blood rushing back to his face. "Oh, _Miss Darling_! I--er--I thought, for a moment, you were-- _What a fool!_" With the last low muttered words he turned and sat down heavily.

Betty, to whom the whole amazing sentence was distinctly audible, lifted demure eyes to his face.

"I beg your pardon, you said--" The sentence came to a suggestive pause.

Into Betty's demure eyes flashed an unmistakable twinkle.

The man stared, frowned, then flushed a deeper red as full comprehension came. He gave a grim laugh.

"I beg your pardon, Miss Darling. That epithet was meant for me--not you." He hesitated, his eyes still searching her face. "Strange--strange!"

he muttered then; "but I wonder what made you suddenly look so much like-- Take off your hat, please," he directed abruptly. "There!" he exclaimed triumphantly, as Betty pulled out the pins and lifted the hat from her head, "that explains it--your hat! Before, when I first saw you, your eyes reminded me of--of some one, and with your hat on the likeness is much more striking. For a moment I was actually fool enough to think--and I forgot she must be twice your age now, too," he finished under his breath.

Betty waited a silent minute at the door; then, apparently still unnoticed, she turned and left the room, pinning her hat on again in the hall.

To her mother that afternoon she carried a jubilant countenance. "Well, mother, he's alive! I've found out that much," she announced merrily.

"He? Who?"

"Mr. Burke Denby, to be sure."

"Alive! Why, Betty, what do you mean?"

"He's alive--like folks," twinkled Betty. "He's got memory, a heart, and I _think_ a sense of humor. I'm sure he did laugh a little over calling me a fool."

"A fool! Child, what have you done now?" moaned Betty's mother.

"Nothing, dear, nothing--but put on my hat," chuckled Betty irrepressibly. "Listen, and I'll tell you." And she drew a vivid picture of the scene in the library. "There, what did I tell you?" she demanded in conclusion. "Did I do anything but put on my hat?"

"Oh, but Betty, you mustn't, you can't--that is, you must-- I mean, _please_ be careful!" On Helen's face joy and terror were fighting a battle royal.

"Careful? Of course I'm careful," cried Betty. "Didn't I stand as still as a mouse while he was sitting there with his beetling brows bent in solemn thought? And then didn't I turn without a word and p.u.s.s.y-step out of the room when I saw that he had ceased to realize that there was such a being in the world as little I? Indeed, I did! And not till I got out of doors did I remember that I had gone into that library in the first place to ask a question. But I didn't go back. The question would keep--and that was more than I could promise of his temper, if I disturbed him then. So I came home. But I just can't wait now to get back. Only think how much more interesting things are going to be now!"

"Why, y-yes, I suppose so," breathed Helen, a little doubtfully.

"Oh, yes, I shall be watching always for him to come alive again.

Besides, it's so romantic! It's a love-story, of course."

"Why, Betty, what an idea!" The mother's face flamed instantly scarlet.

"Why, of course it is, mother. If you could have seen his face you'd have known that no one but somebody he cared very much for could have brought _that_ look to it. You see, he thought for a moment that I was she. Then he said, 'What a fool!' and sat down. Next he just looked at me; and, mother, in his eyes there were just years and years of sorrow all rolled into that one minute."

"Were there--really?" The mother's face was turned quite away now.

"Yes. And don't you see? I'm not going to mind now ever what he says and does, nor how glum he is; for I _know_ down inside, he's got a heart.

And only think, _I look like her_!" finished Betty, suddenly springing to her feet, and whirling about in ecstasy. "Oh, it's so exciting, isn't it?"

But her mother did not answer. She did not seem to have heard, perhaps because her back was turned. She had crossed the room to the window.

Betty, following her, put a loving arm about her shoulders.

"Oh, and, mother, look!" she exclaimed eagerly. "I was going to tell you. I discovered it last Sunday. You can see the Denby House from here.

Did you know it? It's so near dark now, it isn't very clear, but there's a light in the library windows, and others upstairs, too. See? Right through there at the left of that dark clump of trees, set in the middle of that open s.p.a.ce. That's the lawn, and you can just make out the tall white pillars of the veranda. See?"

"Oh, yes, I see. Yes, so you can, can't you?"

Helen's voice was light and cheery, and carefully impersonal, carrying no hint of her inward tumult, for which she was devoutly thankful.

In spite of her high expectations, Betty came from Denby House the next afternoon with pouting lips.

"He's just exactly the same as ever, only more so, if anything," she complained to her mother. "He dictated his letters, then for an hour, I think, he just sat at his desk doing nothing, with his hand shielding his eyes. Twice, though, I caught him looking at me. But his eyes weren't kind and--and human, as they were yesterday. They were their usual little bits of cold steel. He went off then to his office at the Works (he said he was going there), and he never came home even to luncheon. I didn't have half work enough to do, and--and the cabinets were locked. I tried them. At four he came in, signed the letters, said good-afternoon and stalked upstairs. And that's the last I saw of him."

Nightly, after this, for a time, Betty gave forth what she called the "latest bulletin concerning the patient":--

"No change."

"Sat up and took notice."

"Slight rise in temper."

"Dull and listless."

Such were her reports. Then came the day when she impressively announced that the patient showed really marked improvement. He asked her to pa.s.s not only the salt and the pepper, but the olives.

"And, indeed, when you come to think of it," she went on with mock gravity, "there's mighty little else he can ask me to pa.s.s, in the way of making voluntary conversation; for Benton and Sarah do everything almost, except lift the individual mouthfuls for our consumption."

"Oh, Betty, Betty!" protested her mother.

"Yes, yes, I know--that was dreadful, wasn't it, dearie?" laughed Betty contritely. "But you see I have to be so still and proper up there that home becomes a regular safety-valve; and you know safety-valves are necessary--absolutely necessary."

Helen, gazing with fond, meditative eyes at the girl's bright face, drew a tremulous sigh.