A BAYARD OF BROADWAY
you ought to hear him give it to Aunt Sarah about knowing the condition the poor devils are in before you deal out the tracts, you know. He wants the good ladies and gentlemen to come and see—that way, you know."
"He's right enough there," Dillon said constrainedly, "and I suppose he's better for her than I'd be—no, by Greorge, he's not! Bob, I tell you, I know her better than he does—I tell you I've waited five years—Oh, Lord, I can't talk any more about it!"
They went out arm in arm, the boy warm and friendly, proud of his confidence and full of high resolve, Dillon impassive outwardly, but conscious of great stakes. To say, in four short weeks, to those wide, blue eyes, a little scornful, perhaps, but with so sweet, so pure a scorn! 'The strain is over: he is safe; can you not trust me now?' His heart leaped and grew large at the thought.
It was so like Helena, this service, half-sacred in her mother's trust, half -shy in maidenly delaying. "She is afraid of me!" he thought exultingly—indeed, she admitted as much.
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