"Nelly," I said, "your father will expect a letter from me. What shall I say?"
"Tell him I am studying hard and like the city."
"But about us--about you and me?"
"Must we talk of that here--on the street?"
She spoke almost pleadingly, with the same soft clouding of her loveliness that I had seen the day before?
"But I must speak," I said. "You were right yesterday, I won't ask anything of you until I have made a start; but I must know that you still love me; that will be enough. I can wait. I won't hurry you. That is all, Helen. Everything shall be as you wish; but--you do love me?"
"Oh, you great tease! Why, I suppose I do; but--so much has happened, I don't know myself now; you didn't know me when you first saw me here. Why can't you wait and--don't you hope New York vill agree vit' you?"
She laughed with tantalizing roguery. "You do love me!" I cried. "And we shall be so happy with all our dreams come true--happy to be together and here! If you knew how I have looked forward to coming, and now--yesterday I thought myself insane, but I wasn't! You are the most marvellous--"
"Am I? Oh, I'm glad! So glad!"
I was confused, overjoyed at her sudden sparkle; the soft, flashing light of her was fire and dew. She made visible nature sympathize with her moods. The sky smiled and was pensive with her.
"But see," she cried with another of her bewildering changes; "we're at Columbia."
We had left the Boulevard, and were approaching the white-domed library.
"Look at the inscription," Helen said, as students carrying notebooks began to pass us. "'KING'S COLLEGE FOUNDED UNDER GEORGE II.' Doesn't that seem old after the State University? Ours, I mean."
Our inspection was brief. Before the open admiration of the students Helen seemed, like a poising creature of air and sunshine, fairly to take wing for flight.
"Tell me about yourself," she commanded, when we were beyond the flights of terraced steps. "You are really in Judge Baker's office? You--you won't say anything more?"
"You--darling! You have almost said you love me; do you know that? Well, I'll be considerate. I will work and I will wait and I will believe--no, I'll be certain that some day a woman more beautiful than the Greeks imagined when they dreamed of goddesses who loved mortal men will come to me and, because it is true, will quite say 'I love you.' But I may not always be patient; for you do. After all, you are Nelly!"