having hand-to-hand
conflicts in her heart. But she was glad she was going home. How the
Arabs would shout! In her excitement she had not thought of getting a
return ticket, and it didn't occur to her now. She put the ticket her
father had bought for her in her button-hole, and leaning back in the
seat, went sound asleep.

At an hour's end she woke up decidedly refreshed, and looked at her
little silver watch. They would be just about at Thompson's Crossing
now, she thought, glancing out of the window. But _that_ wasn't
Thompson's Crossing! They were drawing into a big bustling station that
Helen didn't recognize in the least. Men were darting about hurriedly,
and trucks were clattering by her. What did it mean? She clutched at the
sleeve of a brakeman going down the aisle, and questioned him nervously.
"Oh yes. Thank you." He passed on. Then that was it. She was going to
Uncle 'Gene's, after all, in spite of herself! In her hurry and mental
perturbation she had boarded the wrong train at the Junction, and it had
been the one not going home to Motherdie and the Arabs. She had said
"good-by" too. All her brave fighting in vain--no, it wasn't either. She
would stay at Uncle 'Gene's a day, and then go home. When that was fully
decided, Helen felt better, and began to rather enjoy the fun and
complication of it all. Uncle 'Gene and Bab met her at the depot, and
overwhelmed her with cordial welcoming.

"There's a letter up home for you, Helen," Bab announced. "I guess
they're homesick and want you back."

"But they won't get you, you know," Uncle 'Gene said, fiercely, tucking
her under his arm.

"No more they won't!" answered Bab.

Helen took the little home message up stairs with her into her pretty
new room. She opened it wonderingly. Why, what was this?

"Dear Nell," father said. "This is for a bit of a welcome and
surprise, to make you feel quite contented and easy about us all.
Did you think the mother and I didn't notice your
conscience-stricken little face, and know just how troubled you
were? But we took a notion to make it a real surprise to you--that
Aunt Dolly is coming to help Mahala out. There, now, open your
eyes wide, my dear, and shut all the windows and squeal! Aunt
Dolly's coming, as sure as you live. She has given up her boarder
and rented her little nest, and is this blessed minute on her way
usward. So you will not worry about us any more, for Aunt