Mary Adams was an orphan, and a wealthy heiress. She had no pretensions to the surpassing beauty of Helen, or the sprightliness of her mind ; but she was a gentle, pretty creature, with much deeper feelings than she was generally thought to possess. The two girls were of the same age, and Helen , having no home of her own to go to , had been in the habit of spending her vacations with her friend. She now began to look forward to the time when her father would take her home, as her education was nearly completed, and she could not help wondering at his silence on the subject.
The close of the last year came, and Helen had not heard from him for some months. She accompanied Miss Adams to the residence of her guardian, hoping, while there, that she should receive a summons from her mysterious parent to his own abode. Mary Adams was to return to school no more, and she was anticipating, with eager delight, her introduction into society.
" You have never seen my cousin Charles," said Miss Adams to her young companion, a few mornings after their arrival in Lewes. " During all your former visits, he was absent at college.'
" No, replied Helen, " I have never seen him, and am glad that he is coming. From your description, I expect to see quite a preux chevalier.”
" Do not anticipate too much ; you may be disappointed. He is in the army, and his regiment is stationed at Brighton ; so we shall see him often. I think Charles Melton handsome, and interesting ; but he is my cousin, you know, and it is so natural to be partial to the only relative I have ever known!"
" It is indeed," said Helen, sighing deeply. " I wonder if father ever thinks of me ! I have the most perfect recollection of him, though so long a time has passed since I last saw him, and I do not think that I resided with him more than a month altogether before that time. I remember the last kiss he gave me. When he turned away there was a tear on my forehead. That tear comforts me now, amid all his neglect. It tells me that he had for me a parent's feelings and often I dream he is again clasping me to his heart, and that hot tear falling on my brow. Mary, you cannot know how desolate I sometimes feel!" " Mary threw her arms around her friend's neck, and kissed away the tear that slowly rolled over her cheek, as she said, " Dear Helen ! while I live, you can never feel the want of a
friend."