"You are too much by yourself. Of course, it's lonely for you. I am
very much pleased with this idea of the little boy."

She shook her head. "I can't take him."

"Why not?" he protested, and broke off. "Nelly, look! You are going to
have company."

He had caught sight of some one fumbling with the latch of the green
gate in the hedge. Helena opened her lips in consternation.

"Lloyd! It's old Mr. Benjamin Wright. He lives in that big house with
white columns on the top of the hill. Do you suppose he has come to
_call_?"

"Tell your woman to say you are out."

But she shook her head, annoyed and helpless. "Don't you see how tired
he is?--poor old man! Of course, he must come in. Go and help him,
Lloyd." She put her hands on his arm. "Please!" she said.

"No, thank you; I have no desire to help old gentlemen." And as she
left him and ran impetuously to open the door herself, he called after
her, "Nelly, don't have dinner held back!"

Mr. Benjamin Wright stood, panting, at the foot of the porch steps; he
could hardly lift his head to look up at the figure in the doorway.
"You--Mrs. Richie?" he gasped.

"Yes, sir," she said. "May I help you? These steps are so steep."