Mary meanwhile was calmly continuing her conversation, never even
suspecting the comedy which was going on by her side, but when Helen shot
a glance over her shoulder and whispered with satisfaction "He turned to
look!" even Mary began to have some slight idea of what was going on.

"Helen," she demurred, "you should never turn around to look at a young
man."

"Why not?" laughed Helen, her arm going around her cousin's waist. And
speaking in the voice of one who has just achieved a triumph, she added,
"They're all such fo-oo-ools!"

Mary thought that over.

Helen's correspondents continued active, and as each letter arrived she
read parts of it to her cousin. She was a mimic, and two of the letters
she read in character one afternoon when Mary was changing her dress for
dinner.

"Oh, Helen, you shouldn't," said Mary, laughing in spite of herself and
feeling ashamed of it the same moment. "I think it's awful to make fun of
people who write you like that."

"Pooh!" laughed Helen. "They're all such fo-oo-ools!"

"You don't think that of all men, do you!"

"Why not?" laughed Helen again, and tucking the letters into her waist
she started humming. Unobserved Ma'm Maynard had entered to straighten
the room and, through the mirror, Mary saw her grimly nodding her head.