air and make it look pretty. And then you get
into a fresh nightgown----"

"Oh, I couldn't sit up," moaned Hortense. "I really couldn't. I'm too
weak."

"I'll show you how. Let me fix the pillows--_so!_ And _so!_ There--nothing
like trying; is there? You're comfortable; aren't you?"

"We-ell----"

Helen was already manipulating the hairbrush. She did it so well, and
managed to arrange Hortense's really beautiful hair so simply yet easily
on her head that the latter quite approved of it--and said so--when she
looked into her hand-mirror.

Then Helen got her into a chair, in a fresh robe and a pretty kimono,
while she made the bed--putting on new sheets and cases for the pillows so
that all should be sweet and clean. Of course, Hortense wasn't really
sick--only lazy. But she thought she was sick and Helen's attentions
pleased the spoiled girl.

"Why, you're not such a bad little thing, Helen," she said, dipping into a
box of chocolates on the stand by her bedside. Chocolates were about all
the medicine Hortense took during this "bad attack." And she was really
grateful--in her way--to her cousin.

It was later on this day that Helen plucked up courage to go to her uncle
and give him back the letter he had written to Fenwick Grimes.

"I did not use it, sir," she said.

"Ahem!" he said, and with evident relief. "You have thought better of it,
I hope? You mean to let the matter rest where it is?"

"I have not abandoned my attempt to get at the truth--no, Uncle
Starkweather."

"How foolish of you, child!" he cried.

"I do not think it is foolish. But I will try not to mix you up in my
inquiries. That is why I did not use the letter."

"And you have seen Grimes?" he asked, hastily.

"Oh, yes."

"Does he know who you are?"

"Oh, yes."

"And you reached him without an introduction? I understand he is hard to
approach. He is a money-lender, in a way, and he has an odd manner of
never appearing to come into personal contact with his clients."

"Yes, sir. I think him odd."

"Did--did he think he could help you?"

"He thinks just as you do, sir," stated Helen, honestly. "And, then, he
accused you of sending me to him at first; so I would not use your letter
and so compromise you."

"Ahem!" said the gentleman, surprised that this young girl should be so
circumspect. It rather startled him to discover that she was thoughtful
far beyond her years. Was it possible that--somehow--she _might_ bring to
light th