e truth regarding the unhappy difficulty that had made Prince
Morrell an exile from his old home for so many years?

Once May Van Ramsden ran in to see Belle and caught Helen going through
the hall on her way to her own room. It was just after luncheon, which she
and Belle had eaten in a silence that could be felt. Belle would not speak
to her cousin unless she was obliged to, and Helen did not see that
forcing her attentions upon the other girl would do any good.

"Why, here you are, Helen Morrell! Why don't I ever see you when I come
here?" cried the caller, shaking Helen by both hands and smiling upon her
heartily from her superior height. "When are your cousins going to bring
you to call upon me?"

Helen might have replied, truthfully, "Never;" but she only shook her head
and smilingly declared: "I hope to see you again soon, Miss Van Ramsden."

"Well, I guess you must!" cried the caller. "I want to hear some more of
your experiences," and she went on to meet the scowling Belle at the door
of the reception parlor.

Later her eldest cousin said to the Western girl:

"In going up and down to your room, Miss, I want you to remember that
there is a back stairway. Use the servants' stairs, if you please!"

Helen made no reply. She wasn't breaking much of the ice between her and
Belle Starkweather, that was sure. And to add to Belle's dislike for her
cousin, there was another happening in which Miss Van Ramsden was
concerned, soon after this.

Hortense was still abed, for the weather remained unpleasant--and there
really was nothing else for the languid cousin to do. Miss Van Ramsden
found Belle out, and she went upstairs to say "how-do" to the invalid.
Helen was in the room making the spoiled girl more comfortable, and Miss
Van Ramsden drew the younger girl out into the hall when she left.

"I really have come to see _you_, child," she said to Helen, frankly. "I
was telling papa about you and he said he would dearly love to meet Prince
Morrell's daughter. Papa went to college with your father, my dear."

Helen was glad of this, and yet she flushed a little. She was quite frank,
however: "Does--does your father know about poor dad's trouble?" she
whispered.

"He does. And he always believed Mr. Morrell not guilty. Father was one of
the firm's creditors, and he has always wished your father had come to him
instead of leaving the city so long ago."

"Then he's been paid?" cried Helen, eagerly.

"Certainly. It