Helen, smart though she was! He had transitory qualms of fear about the
possible expensiveness of Helen. He had decidedly not meant that she
should give up school and nearly thirty shillings a week. But, still, he
had managed her so far, and he reckoned that he could continue to manage
her.

He regretted that she had not praised his music. And Helen wrote the
same evening to her mother. From a very long and very exciting letter
the following excerpts may be culled:

"I saw the fat old servant in the scullery at once. But uncle thought
she wasn't there. He is a funny old man--rather silly, like most old
men----but I like him, and you can say what you please. He isn't silly
really. I instantly decided that I would get rid of that servant. And I
did do, and poor uncle never suspected. In a few days I shall come to
live here. It's much safer. Supposing he was taken ill and died, and
left all his money to hospitals and things, how awfully stupid that
would be! I told him I should leave the school, and he didn't turn a
hair. He's a dear, and I don't care a fig for his money--except to spend
it for him. His tiny house is simply lovely, terrifically clean, and in
the loveliest order. But I've no intention that we shall stay here. I
think I shall take a large house up at Hillport. Uncle is only old in
some ways; in many ways he's quite young. So I hope he won't mind a
change. By the way, he told me about your age. My dearest mother, how
could you--" etc.

In such manner came Helen Rathbone to keep house for her
great-stepuncle.