Longstreet was calling from the door, 'Helen, I want you and Howard to come back. We must talk everything over. Mrs. Murray has much to explain; she hates Jim Courtot and his crowd, she is working against them instead of with them. Be fair, young people; remember these words,' he paused, lifted his hand oratorically and then made his statement with an unusually deep gravity,--'Every one, though appearing guilty, must be given an opportunity to prove himself innocent. That's it and that's fair: the opportunity to prove his innocence.' He emphasized the words in repeating them. 'That's all that I ask now. Please let's talk things over.'
Helen returned slowly to the cabin.
'I must go back,' she said to Howard. 'After all, I must keep my head and watch over papa every minute while she is with him.'
'May I come in, too?' he asked gently.
'Won't you believe me, Helen? And won't you let me help you?'
She hesitated. Then she turned her head so that he could see her eyes.
'I am apt to have my hands full,' she admitted. She even smiled a little. 'Maybe there will be work for both of us.'
But when he sought to come to her side, she ran on ahead of him. The face which she presented at the door for Sanchia's vision was radiant. Even Sanchia was at a loss for the amazing alteration. How these two could have come to an understanding in two minutes baffled her. But as Howard presented his own face at the door there was no misdoubting that he and Helen had travelled far along the road which she had thought to close to them.
'What in the world has happened?' Guarded as was the tongue of Sanchia Murray it was human after all.
Helen laughed merrily and gave her eyes for an instant to Howard's. Then, lightly, to Sanchia: 'We were just laughing over a story Alan was telling me. Yellow Barbee has a new girl.'
Sanchia understood, and her face went red. Howard merely knew that for the first time Helen had called him Alan. Of trifles is the world made.