"My goodness! To live in such confusion, and yet have money enough to be able to enjoy a home out of town," thought Helen. "How foolish of Uncle Starkweather." She made no mistake in the house this time. There was Gregson--now spick and span in his maroon livery--haughtily mounting guard over the open doorway while a belated scrubwoman was cleaning the steps and areaway. Helen tripped up the steps with a smile for Gregson; but that wooden-faced subject of King George had no joint in his neck. He could merely raise a finger in salute. "Is the family up, sir?" she asked, politely. "In Mr. Starkweather's den, Miss," said the footman, being unable to leave his post at the moment. Mr. Lawdor was not in sight and Helen set out to find the room in question, wondering if the family had already breakfasted. The clock in the hall chimed the quarter to ten as she passed it. The great rooms on this floor were open now; but empty. She suddenly heard voices. She found a cross passage that she had not noticed before, and entered it, the voices growing louder. She came to a door before which hung heavy curtains; but these curtains did not deaden the sound entirely. Indeed, as Helen hesitated, with her hand stretched out to seize the portiere, she heard something that halted her. Indeed, what she heard within the next few moments entirely changed the outlook of the girl from Sunset Ranch. It matured that doubt of humanity that had been born the night before in her breast. And it changed--for the time being at least--Helen's nature. From a frank, open-hearted, loving girl she became suspicious, morose and secretive. The first words she heard held her spell-bound--an unintentional eavesdropper. And what she heard made her determined to appear to her unkind relatives quite as they expected her to appear. CHAPTER XI LIVING UP TO ONE'S REPUTATION "Well! my lady certainly takes her time about getting up," Belle Starkweather was saying. "She was tired after her journey, I presume," her father said. "Across the continent in a day-coach, I suppose," laughed Hortense, yawning. "I _was_ astonished at that bill for taxi hire Olstrom put on your desk, Pa," said Belle. "She must have ridden all over town before she came here." "A girl who couldn't take a plain hint," cried Hortense, "and stay away altogether when we didn't answer her telegram----" "Hush, girls. We must treat her kindly," said their father. "Ahem!" "I don't see _why_?" demanded Hortense, bluntly. "You don't understand everything," responded Mr. Starkweather, rather weakly. "I don't understand _you_, Pa, sometimes," declared Hortense. "Well, I'll tell you one thing right now!" snapped the older girl. "I've ordered her things taken out of that chamber. Her shabby old trunk has gone up to the room at the top of the servants' stairway. It's good enough for her."