Why she had married William Romer no one ever exactly knew--perhaps Helen
herself least of any one. It certainly was not for love; it could hardly
have been from any worldly motive. Some people averred, and possibly they
were not far wrong, that she had done so out of pique because the man she
loved did not want her.

However that might be, Mrs. Romer returned a widow, and not a very
disconsolate one, to her grandfather's house.

It is certain that she would not have lived there could she have helped
it. She did not love old Mr. Harlowe, neither did Mr. Harlowe love her. A
sense of absolute duty to his dead daughter's child on the one side, a
sense of absolute necessity on the other, kept the two together. Their
natures were inharmonious. They kept up a form of affection and intimacy
openly; in reality, they had not one single thought in common.

It is not too much to say that Mr. Harlowe positively disliked his
grand-daughter. He had, perhaps, good reason for it. Helen had been
nothing but a trouble to him. He had not desired to bring up a young
lady in his house; he had not wished for the society which her presence
entailed, nor for the dissipations of London life into which he was
dragged more or less against his will. Added to which, Helen had not
striven to please him in essential matters. She had married a gambling,
drinking blackguard, whom he had forbidden to enter his doors; and now,
when she might retrieve her position, and marry well and creditably, she
refused to make the slightest effort to meet his views.

Helen's life was a mystery to all but herself. To the world she was a
pretty, lively little widow, with a good house to live in, and sufficient