"Yes, Miss Belle. When Gregson told me the young miss was not at the table I kept something hot and hot for her, Miss. Shall I serve it in my room?" "You may as well," said Belle, carelessly. "And, _Cousin_ Helen!" "Yep?" chirped the girl from the ranch. "Of course, while you are here, we could not have you in the room you occupied last night. It--it might be needed. I have already told Olstrom, the housekeeper, to take your bag and other things up to the next floor. Ask one of the maids to show you the room you are to occupy--_while you remain_." "That's all right, Belle," returned the Western girl, with great heartiness. "Any old place will do for me. Why! I've slept on the ground more nights than you could shake a stick at," and she tramped off after the tottering butler. "Well!" gasped Hortense when she was out of hearing, "what do you know about _that_?" "Pa, do you intend to let that dowdy little thing stay here?" cried Belle. "Ahem!" murmured Mr. Starkweather, running a finger around between his collar and his neck, as though to relieve the pressure there. "Her clothes came out of the ark!" declared Hortense. "And that hat!" "And those boots--or is it because she clumps them so? I expect she is more used to riding than to walking." "And her language!" rejoined Belle. "Ahem! What--what can we do, girls?" gasped Mr. Starkweather. "Put her out!" cried Belle, loudly and angrily. "She is quite too, too impossible, Pa," agreed Hortense. "With her coarse jokes," said the older sister. "And her rough way," echoed the other. "And that ugly dress and hat." "A pauper relation! Faugh! I didn't know the Starkweathers owned one." "Seems to me, _one_ queer person in the house is enough," began Hortense. Her father and sister looked at her sharply. "Why, Hortense!" exclaimed Belle. "Ahem!" observed Mr. Starkweather, warningly. "Well! we don't want _that_ freak in the house," grumbled the younger sister. "There are--ahem!--some things best left unsaid," observed her father, pompously. "But about this girl from the West----" "Yes, Pa!" cried his daughters in duet. "I will see what can be done. Of course, she cannot expect me to support her for long. I will have a serious talk with her." "When, Pa?" cried the two girls again. "Er--ahem!--soon," declared the gentleman, and beat a hasty retreat. "It had better be pretty soon," said Belle, bitterly, to her sister. "For I won't stand that dowdy thing here for long, now I tell you!" "Good for you, Belle!" rejoined Hortense, warmly. "It's strange if we can't--with Flossie's help--soon make her sick of her visit." CHAPTER XII "I MUST LEARN THE TRUTH" Helen was already very sick of her Uncle Starkweather's home and family. But she was too proud to show the depth of her feeling before the old serving man in whose charge she had been momentarily placed.