"What do _you_ mean?" she returned, hiding her real emotion. "I have come to ask some questions. Why shouldn't I?" "You say Prince Morrell is dead?" "Yes, sir. Nearly two months, now." "Who sent you, then?" "Sent me to you?" queried Helen, in wonder. "Yes. Somebody must have sent you," said Mr. Grimes, watching her with his little eyes, in which there seemed to burn a very baleful look. "You are mistaken. Nobody sent me," said Helen, recovering a measure of her courage. She believed that this strange man was a coward. But why should he be afraid of her? "You came clear across this continent to interview me about--about something that is gone and forgotten--almost before you were born?" "It isn't forgotten," returned Helen, meaningly. "Such things are never forgotten. My father said so." "But it's no use hauling everything to the surface of the pool again," grumbled Mr. Grimes. "That is about what Uncle Starkweather says; but I do not feel that way," said Helen, slowly. "Ha! Starkweather! Of course he's in it. I might have known," muttered the old man. "So _he_ sent you to me?" "No, sir. He objected to my coming," declared Helen, quite convinced now that she should not deliver her uncle's letter. "The Starkweathers are the people you came East to visit?" "Yes, sir." "And how did _they_ receive you in their fine Madison Avenue mansion?" queried Mr. Grimes, looking up at her slily again. "Just as you know they did," returned Helen, briefly. "Ha! How's that? And you with all that----" He halted and--for a moment--had the grace to blush. He saw that she read his mind. "They do not know that I have some money for emergencies," said Helen, coolly. "Ho, ho!" chuckled Mr. Grimes, suddenly. "So they consider you a pauper relative from the West?" "Yes, sir." "Ho, ho!" he laughed again, and rubbed his hands. "How _did_ Prince leave you fixed?" "I--I have something beside the money you saw me counting," she told him, bluntly. "And Willets Starkweather doesn't know it?" "He has never asked me if I were in funds." "I bet you!" cackled Grimes, at last giving way to a spasm of mirth which, Helen thought, was not nice to look upon. "And how does he fancy having you in his family?" "He does not like it. Neither do his daughters. And one of their reasons is because people will ask questions about Prince Morrell's daughter. They are afraid their friends will bring up father's old trouble," continued Helen, her voice quivering. "So that is why, Mr. Grime's, I am determined to know the truth about it." "The truth? What do you mean?" snarled Grimes, suddenly starting out of his chair. "Why, sir," said Helen, amazed, "dad told me all about it when he was dying. All he knew. But he said by this time surely the truth of the matter must have come to light. I want to clear his name----" "How are you going to do _that_?" demanded Mr. Grimes. "I hope you will help me--if you can, sir," she said, pleadingly.