“Shucks! So it is. But that’s moughty long for a single mouthful.”
Belle giggled again. Hortense looked disgusted. Uncle Starkweather was somewhat shocked.
“We—ahem!—hope you will enjoy yourself here while you—er—remain,” he began. “Of course, your visit will be more or less brief, I suppose?”
“Jest accordin’ to how ye like me and how I like you folks,” returned the girl from Sunset Ranch, heartily. “When Big Hen seen me off——”
“Who—who?” demanded Hortense, faintly.
“Big Hen Billings,” said Helen, in an explanatory manner. “Hen was dad’s—that is he worked with dad on the ranch. When I come away I told Big Hen not to look for me back till I arrove. Didn’t know how I’d find you-all, or how I’d like the city. City’s all right; only nobody gets up early. And I expect we-all can’t tell how we like each other until we get better acquainted.”
“Very true—very true,” remarked Mr. Starkweather, faintly.
“But, goodness! I’m hungry!” exclaimed Helen. “You folks ain’t fed yet; have ye?”
“We have breakfasted,” said Belle, scornfully. “I will ring for the butler. You may tell Lawdor what you want—er—Cousin Helen,” and she looked at Hortense.
“Sure!” cried Helen. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Ye see, I didn’t have any watch and the sun was clouded over this morning. Sort of run over my time limit—eh? Ah!—is this Mr. Lawdor?”