“Yes, Aunt Polly, I wish to drive over to Hilltown immediately.”
“To Hilltown!” gasped Aunt Polly with yet greater consternation, and showing signs of resistance at last; “pray what—”
But Helen only came again to the attack, with yet more audacity and confidence. “Yes,” she said, “to Hilltown; I mean to go to see Arthur.”
For answer to that last statement, poor Mrs. Roberts had simply no words whatever; she could only gaze, and in the meantime, Helen was going calmly on with her dressing, as if the matter were settled.
“Will Mr. Howard be down to breakfast?” she asked.
“As he is going away to-day, I presume he will be down,” was the reply, after which Helen quickly completed her toilet, her aunt standing by and watching her in the meantime.
“Helen, dear,” she asked at last, after having recovered her faculties a trifle, “do you really mean that you will not explain to me a thing of what has happened, or of what you are doing?”
“There is so much, Aunt Polly, that I cannot possibly explain it now; I have too much else to think of. You must simply let me go my way, and I will tell you afterwards.”
“But, Helen, is that the right way to treat me? Is it nothing to you, all the interest that I have taken in this and all that I have done for you, that you should think so little of my advice?”
“I do not need any advice now,” was the answer. “Aunt Polly, I see exactly what I should do, and I do not mean to stop a minute for anything else until I have done it. If it seems unkind, I am very sorry, but in the meantime it must be done.”