like Mrs. Van Dusen, with her haughty air and jewelled fingers?
These and the like questions she put to herself only to add to her hesitancy of purpose and distress of heart. She had learned much but she was still a child and knew very little of life, especially of life in America.
The greatest of all teachers, the omnipotent opener of all eyes and all minds, had not yet come to her. Love may be blind, but it is a wonderful magician for opening the heart’s far-seeing eyes. It may be blind to the object of its passion, but as a teacher it takes the highest rank. Helène did not know this. She was alone in the world—without a home, without a father or mother, without even her birthright. In this land of her adoption she was still a stranger. She could but follow the impulses of her heart blindly. She did not realize it, but it was love that led her. And Monday would be the twenty-second!