a minute. But he said
no more and his stern countenance, as well as his unkind words and tone,
repelled her. She put out her hand once, as though to speak, but he turned
away, scornfully.

It was her last attempt to soften him toward her. He might then, had he
not been so selfish and haughty, have made his peace with the girl and
saved himself much trouble and misery in the end. But he ignored her, and
Helen, crying softly, left the room and stole up to her own place in the
attic.

She could not see anybody that evening, and so did not go down to dinner.
Later, to her amazement, Maggie came to her door with a tray piled high
with good things--a very elaborate repast, indeed. But Helen was too
heartsick to eat much, although she did not refuse the attention--which
she laid to the kindness of Lawdor, the butler.

But for once she was mistaken. The tray of food did not come from Lawdor.
Nor was it the outward semblance of anybody's kindness. The tray delivered
at Helen's door was the first result of a great fright!

At dinner the girls could not wait for their father to be seated before
they began to tell him of the amazing thing that had been revealed to them
that afternoon by Jessie Stone.

"Where's Cousin Helen, Gregson?" asked Belle, before seating herself. "See
that she is called. She may not have heard the gong."

If Gregson's face could display surprise, it displayed it then.

"Of course, dear Helen has returned; hasn't she?" added Hortense.

"I'll go up myself and see if she's here," Flossie suggested.

"Ahem!" said the surprised Mr. Starkweather.

"I listened sharply for her, but I did not hear her pass my door," said
Hortense.

"I must ask her to come back to that spare room on the lower floor,"
sighed Belle. "She is too far away from the rest of the family."

"Girls!" gasped Mr. Starkweather, at length finding speech.

"Oh, you needn't explode, Pa!" ejaculated Belle. "We are aware of
something about Helen that changes the complexion of affairs entirely."

"What does this mean?" demanded Mr. Starkweather, blankly. "Something
about Helen?"

"Yes, indeed, Pa," said Flossie, spiritedly. "Who do you suppose owns that
Sunset Ranch she talks about?"

"And who do you suppose is worth a quarter of a million dollars--more than
_you_ are worth, Pa, I declare?" cried Hortense.

"Girls!" exclaimed Belle. "That is very low. If we have made a mistake
regarding Cousin Helen, of course it can be adjusted. But