Under the Big Dipper

Helène reddened deeply, but this time the little dimples came into play. The smiling eye veiled the recognition which the parted lips were longing to betray: “Miss Morton, I shall be very happy if we are friends.”

When the maid appeared, Ruth and the visitor were occupying seats next to each other in a retired nook engrossed in a low-voiced conversation. “Comtesse,” said Mrs. Morton, interrupting them, “Nettie will show you to your room. Luncheon will be served in a few minutes.”

When Helène retired, John turned to his mother: “I hope, mother, you will like Comtesse Helène. If you are disengaged before luncheon, I should like to see you. Can you spare the time?”

“Certainly, my dear boy. You will find me in the lounging room. Was the matter that kept you in town disagreeable, John?”

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