present. Gayly humming the _Tarantula_, she ran down to the kitchen,
where she got breakfast, or, rather claimed the reputation of getting
it, by assisting May, who was really the practical cause of its being
made at all tolerably.

"What sort of gimcracks must one have for supper? I have invited a
friend with whom I have business relations of some importance, to tea,
and I wish to know what is usual," said Mr. Stillinghast, addressing
Helen, after breakfast.

"I don't know, sir," she said, looking down, with the half-frightened
expression her face always wore when he addressed her; "people
generally have cake, and other nice things."

"Very well, make a supper to suit yourself," said Mr. Stillinghast,
tossing her a five dollar note.

"We _ought_ to have silver forks, sir," she suggested.

"Silver devils! well, wait--" He went up to his chamber, and returned
with a package, which he laid carefully on the table, saying, "There
they are--be careful with them," and went out without noticing May even
by a look, who felt the neglect more keenly than any trial he had ever
caused her. To find that Helen, who hated as much as she feared
him--whose life was so aimless and useless--preferred before her,
caused sharp and bitter emotions. The flagrant injustice of his
treatment galled, as much as his unmerited contempt humiliated her.
For a little while her feelings bore her along on their rough but
silent torrent, while the hot winds of evil heated her veins with fire,
and caused a hot flush to burn on either cheek. Ho! how exulted the