'I can't tell you how kind I think it of you.' 'Then we are friends?
You do feel me as a friend who will always be interested and always care ?' 'Yes, indeed; and I do so thank you.' Althea put out her hand, and Helen gave her hers, saying, 'You _are_ a dear,' and adding, as though to take refuge from her own discomposure, 'much too dear for the likes of me.' The bond was thus sealed, yet Aunt Julia's shaft still stuck.

It was she who had felt near, and who had drawn Helen near.

Helen, probably, would never have thought of keeping in touch.

She was Helen's friend because she had appealed for friendship, and because Helen thought her a dear.
The only comfort was to know that Helen's humility was real.

She might have offered her friendship could she have realised that it was of value to anybody.
It was a few evenings after this, and perhaps as a result of their talk, that, as they sat in Althea's room over coffee, Helen said: 'Why don't you come to England this summer, Althea ?' Aunt Julia had proposed that Althea should go on to Bayreuth with her and the girls, and Althea was turning over the plan, thinking that perhaps she had had enough of Bayreuth, so that Helen's suggestion, especially as it was made in Aunt Julia's presence, was a welcome one.
'Perhaps I will,' she said.