It was not the somewhat foreign dress and ornaments she wore; it was in her face, her movements, and the tone of her voice, for as she walked she sang a low, monotonous song, as if unconsciously.

Lillian watched her keenly, marking the aimless motions of the little hands, the apathy of the lovely face, and the mirthless accent of the voice; but most of all the vacant fixture of the great dark eyes.

Around and around she went, with an elastic step and a mechanical regularity wearisome to witness.
What is the matter with her?
thought Lillian anxiously, as this painful impression increased with every scrutiny of the unconscious girl.

So abashed was she that Hester's call was unheard, and Hester was unseen as she came and stood beside her.

Both looked a moment, and as they looked an old lady came from the house and led Helen in, still murmuring her monotonous song and moving her hands as if to catch and hold the sunshine.
"Poor dear, poor dear.