The Awakening of Helena Richie

Helena went to the open doorway, and gazed blankly out into Main

Street. She might as well go home; he wasn't going to telegraph. She

told herself that he was out of town, and had not received her

despatch. But her explanation was not convincing; if he was away, the

despatch would have been forwarded to him. It must be that as he was

coming on Saturday, he had not thought it worth while to telegraph.

She wandered aimlessly out into the hot street--there was no use

waiting any longer; and as for meeting David, he had gone home long

ago.

As she went up the street, Dr. Lavendar stopped her. He had been told

that the news of the night before did not mean affliction, but Dr.

Lavendar knew that there are worse things than affliction, so he stood

ready to offer comfort if it was needed. But apparently it was not

wanted, and after a minute's pause, he began to speak of his own

affairs: "I've been wondering if you would trust David to me for two

or three days in October."

"David?" she repeated, blankly; her mind was very far away from David.

"I have to go to Philadelphia then;" Dr. Lavendar was really eager;

"and if you will let me take him along--I guess Rose Knight will let

him off--we would have a fine time!"

"Certainly, Dr. Lavendar," she said, courteously. But she thought

quickly, that she and David would not be in Old Chester in October.

However, she could not explain that to Dr. Lavendar. It was easier to

say yes, and be done with it. "Good evening," she added impatiently,

for the old gentleman would have kept her indefinitely, talking about

David.

But as she climbed the hill her mind went out to the child with the

relief of one who in darkness opens a door towards the light. She

found him in the parlor, curled up in a big chair by the window,

looking at a picture-book. He climbed down immediately, and came and

took her hand in his, a demonstration of affection so unusual that she

caught him in her arms and might have cuddled him with the undesired

"forty kisses," if he had not gently moved his head aside. But her

eyes were so blurred with tears of fatigue and Fright she did not

notice the rebuff.

The next twenty-four hours were tense with expectation and fear.

Helena's mind veered almost with every breath: He had not telegraphed

because he had not received her despatch; because he was away from

home; because he was coming on Saturday;--because he was sorry

Frederick was dead...