."

"Sleepy Hollow," remarked Mrs. Cameron to herself, as she steadily
descended. "Truly I should think so; but I am much mistaken if I don't
wake it up."

CHAPTER XIV.

AUNT MARIA.

"Ef you please, Miss Helen," said Alice, the neat housemaid, putting in
her head at the nursery door, "there's a lady downstairs, and a heap of
luggage, and the nastiest little dog I ever saw. He has almost killed
the Persian kitten, Miss, and he is snarling and snapping at every one.
See, he took this bit out of my apron, miss. The old lady says as her
name is Mrs. Cameron, and she has come to stay; and she'd be glad if
you'd go down to her immediately, Miss Helen."

"Aunt Maria!" said Helen, in an aghast voice. "Aunt Maria absolutely
come--and father away! Nursie, I must fly down--you will understand
about those flannels. Oh! I am sorry Aunt Maria has come. What will
Polly say?"

Helen felt a curious sinking at her heart as she descended the stairs;
but she was a very polite and well-mannered girl, and when she went up
to Mrs. Cameron she said some pretty words of welcome, which were really
not overdone. Mrs. Cameron was a short, stout person; she always wore
black, and her black was always rusty. She stood now in the middle of
the drawing-room, holding Scorpion in her arms, with her bonnet-strings
untied, and her full, round face somewhat flushed.

"No, my dear, you are not particularly glad to see me," she said, in
answer to Helen's gentle dignified greeting. "I don't expect it, child,
nor look for it; and you need not waste untruths upon me, for I always
see through them. You are not glad to see me, and I am not surprised,
for I assure you I intend to make myself disagreeable. Helen, your
father is a perfect fool. Now, my dear, you need not fire up; you would
say so if you were as old as me, and had received as idiotic an epistle
from him."

"But I am not as old as you, and he is my father," said Helen, steadily.
"I don't tell untruths, Aunt Maria, and I am glad to see you
because--because you were fond of mother. Will you come into the
dining-room now, and let me get you some tea?"

Helen's lips were quivering, and her dark blue eyes were slightly
lowered, so that Aunt Maria should not notice the tears that filled
them. The old lady, however, had noticed these signs of emotion, and
brave words always pleased her.

"You aren't a patch on your mother, child," she said. "But you remind me
of her. Yes, take me to my