her friend's beauty with a highly perplexed face. "Something might?"
"If Neville's movements are really watched, and if the purpose really is to isolate him from all friends and acquaintance and wear his daily life out grain by grain (which would seem to be the threat to you), does it not appear likely," said Helena, "that his enemy would in some way communicate with Mr. Tartar to warn him off from Neville? In which case, we might not only know the fact but might know from Mr. Tartar what the terms of the communication were."
"I see!" cried Rosa. And immediately darted into her state-cabin again.
Presently her pretty face reappeared, with a greatly heightened colour, and she said that she had told Mr. Crisparkle, and that Mr. Crisparkle had fetched in Mr. Tartar, and that Mr. Tartar—"who is waiting now in case you want him," added Rosa, with a half look back, and in not a little confusion between the inside of the state-cabin and out—had declared his readiness to act as she had suggested, and to enter on his task that very day.
"I thank him from my heart," said Helena. "Pray tell him so."
Again not a little confused between the Flower Garden and the Cabin, Rosa dipped in with her message, and dipped out again with more assurances from Mr. Tartar, and stood wavering in a divided state between Helena and him, which proved that confusion is not always necessarily awkward, but may sometimes present a very pleasant appearance.
"And now, darling," said Helena, "we will be mindful of the caution that has restricted us to this interview for the present, and will part. I hear Neville moving too. Are you going back?"
"To Miss Twinkleton's?" asked Rosa.
"Yes."
"O, I could never go there any more; I couldn't indeed, after that dreadful interview!" said Rosa.
"Then where are you going, pretty one?"
"Now I come to think of it, I don't know," said Rosa. "I have settled nothing at all yet, but my guardian will take care of me. Don't be uneasy, dear. I shall be sure to be somewhere."
(It did seem likely.)
"And I shall hear of my Rosebud from Mr. Tartar?" inquired Helena.
"Yes, I suppose so; from——" Rosa looked back again in a flutter, instead of supplying the name. "But tell me one thing before we part, dearest Helena. Tell me that you are sure, sure, sure, I couldn't help it."
"Help it, love?"
"Help making him malicious and revengeful. I couldn't hold any terms with him, could I?"
"You know how I love you, darling," answered Helena, with indignation; "but I would sooner see you dead at his wicked feet."
"That's a great comfort to me! And you will tell your poor brother so, won't you? And you will give him my remembrance and my sympathy? And you will ask him not to hate me?"
