He did not see Helen again till the following morning, for her wound had been opened afresh, and she spent the remainder of the day and evening in the solitude of her room.  Martine was troubled at this, and thought she felt as he did.

In the morning she joined him on the piazza.  She was pale from her long sad vigil, but renewed strength and a gentle patience were expressed in her thin face.

“It’s too bad, Helen,” he broke out in unwonted irritation.  “I wouldn’t have gone if I had known.  It was a miserable letting down of all that had gone before—­that reference to me.”

Now she smiled brightly as she said, “You are the only one present who thought so.  Has this been worrying you?”

“Yes, it has.  If the speaker had seen what I saw, he would have known better.  His words only wounded me.”

“He judged you by other men, Hobart.  His words would not have wounded very many.  I’m glad I heard that letter—­that I have learned what I never could from you.  I’m very proud of my friend.  What silly creatures women are, anyway!  They want their friends to be brave, yet dread the consequences of their being so beyond words.”

“Well,” said Martine, a little grimly, “I’m going to my office to-morrow.  I feel the need of a long course of reading in Blackstone.”

“You must help keep me busy also,” was her reply.

“I’ve thought about that; yes, a great deal.  You need some wholesome, natural interest that is capable of becoming somewhat absorbing.  Is it strange that I should recommend one phase of my hobby, flowers?  You know that every tree, shrub, and plant on our little place is a sort of a pet with me.  You are fond of flowers, but have never given much thought to their care, leaving that to your gardener.  Flowers are only half enjoyed by those who do not cultivate them, nurse, or pet them.  Then there is such an infinite variety that before you know it your thoughts are pleasantly occupied in experimenting with even one family of plants.  It is an interest which will keep you much in the open air and bring you close to Mother Nature.”

The result of this talk was that the sad-hearted girl first by resolute effort and then by a growing fondness for the tasks, began to take a personal interest in the daily welfare of her plants.  Martine and her father were always on the look-out for something new and rare; and as winter approached, the former had a small conservatory built on the sunny side of the house.  They also gave her several caged song-birds, which soon learned to recognize and welcome her.  From one of his clients Martine obtained a droll-looking dog that seemed to possess almost human intelligence.  In the daily care of living things and dependent creatures that could bloom or be joyous without jarring upon her feelings, as would human mirth or gayety, her mind became wholesomely occupied part of each day; she could smile at objects which did not know, which could not understand.