And Helen stared at her aunt. “An affliction!” she cried. “Aunt Polly, that is horrible! What in the world did you invite an invalid for at this time, with all the other people? I hate invalids!”
“I had asked him before,” was the apologetic reply, “and so I couldn't help it. I had great difficulty in getting him to promise to come anyway, for he's a very strange, solitary man. But I wanted to have my little romance, and renew our acquaintance, and this was the only time the third party could come.”
“Oh, the third one is here too?”
“He will be in a day or two.”
“Who is he?”
“His name is Lieutenant Maynard, and he's in the navy; he's stationed at Brooklyn just now, but he expects to get leave for a while.”
“That is a little better,” Helen remarked, as the carriage was drawing up in front of the great house. “I'd marry a naval officer.”
“No,” laughed Aunt Polly; “he leaves a wife and some children in Brooklyn. We three are going to keep to ourselves and talk about old times and what has happened to us since then, and so you young folks will not be troubled by us.”
“I hope you will,” said the other, “for I can't ever be happy with invalids.”
And there, as the carriage door was opened, the conversation ended abruptly. When Helen had sprung out she found that there were six or eight people upon the piazza, to whom the excitement of being introduced drove from her mind for a time all thoughts which her aunt's words had brought.