AT THE AMBASSADOR'S
"Shall we walk down to the postoffice, Ruth?" Barbara asked. "I am
awfully anxious for a letter from mother."
"Let's all go!" urged Grace. "We have just time enough before dressing
for our call at the Ambassador's. I am told that everyone goes for his
own letters in Lenox. We shall see all the social lights. They say titled
foreigners line up in front of the Lenox postoffice to look for
heiresses. Ruth, you are our only heiress. Here's a chance for you!"
teased Grace.
Ruth looked provoked. "I won't be called horrid names, Grace Carter!" she
asserted, indignantly. "Heiress or no heiress, when my turn comes for a
husband I won't look at any old foreigner. A good American citizen will
be a fine enough husband for me!"
"Hear! hear!" laughed Mollie, putting on her hat. "Don't let us quarrel
over Ruth's prospective husband just at present. It reminds me of the old
maid who shed tears before the pot of boiling fat. When her neighbor
inquired what troubled her, the spinster said she was thinking that if
she had ever been married her child might have played in the kitchen, and
might have fallen into the pot of boiling oil! Come on, 'old maid Ruth,'
let's be off."
The girls walked briskly through the bracing mountain air.
"I expect you will have a letter from Hugh or Ralph, Ruth," Barbara
suggested. "They told you they would write you if they could come to
Lenox for the week of games."
Ruth went into the postoffice to inquire for their mail. The other girls
waited on the outside. A tall young woman swept by them, leading a
beautiful English deerhound on a long silver chain. She had very blond
hair and light blue eyes. Her glance rested on Barbara for the space of
half a second.
"Dear me!" Barbara laughed. "How very young and insignificant that
intensely superior person makes me feel! Maybe she is one of the
heiresses Grace told us about."
"Here is a letter for you, Grace!" said Ruth, returning to her friends.
"The one addressed to you, Bab, is probably for you and Mollie together.
It is from your mother. Then I have two letters for myself and two for
Aunt Sallie. It is all right; Hugh and Ralph will be here the first thing
next week," announced Ruth, tearing open one of her notes.
"What would Aunt Sallie say if she could see us opening our mail on the
street?" queried Barbara, as she promptly followed Ruth's bad example.
"But this is such a quiet spot, under these old elms, that I must have a
peep at mother's letter. Mother is having a beautiful time in St. Paul
with Cousin Betty, Molliekins," continued Bab. "And what do you think?
Our queer old cousin is sending us another present. What has come over
her? First she sends the beautiful silk dresses and now--but mother
doesn't tell what this last gift is. She says it is to be a surprise for
us when we come back from Lenox."
"What fun!" cried Mollie. "Our crabbed cousin is having a slight change
of heart. She has always been dreadfully bored with Bab and me," Mollie
explained to Ruth and Grace, "but she is devoted to mother, and used to
want her to live with her. But she never could make up her mind to endure
us girls. Tell me some more news, Bab."
"Well," Barbara read on, "mother has had a letter from Mr. Stuart; but
Ruth's letter will give her this news. He writes that his new gold mine
is a perfect wonder. I am so glad for you, Ruth, dear!" Barbara ended.
"Oh!" Ruth exclaimed. "Father is so lucky! But we really don't need any
more money. Just think, father only has Aunt Sallie and poor me to spend
it all on. If he only had a big family it would be worth while to grow
richer and richer. I wish you were really my sisters. Then you would let
me share some of all this money with you, Bab dear," whispered Ruth in
her best friend's ear, as the two girls dropped behind Mollie and Grace.
Barbara shook her head. Yet the tears started to her eyes in spite of the
fact that she was out on the street. "You generous darling!" she replied.
"If you aren't sharing your money with us by giving us all these good
times, what are you doing? But, of course, we couldn't take your money in
any other way. Mollie and I are used to being poor. We don't mind it so
very much. Let's hurry. Aunt Sallie will want us to put on our best
clothes for our call at the Ambassador's. Thank goodness for Cousin
Betty's present to Mollie and me of the silk suits. We have never had
such fine clothes before in our lives."
"Miss Sallie," inquired Barbara, an hour later, "will Mollie and I do for
the call at the Ambassador's? You know this is the great event in our
lives. Who knows but the Ambassador may even shake hands with humble me!
Do Ambassadors shake hands, Aunt Sallie? Why, 'The Automobile Girls' may
meet the President some day, we are getting so high in the world."
"Who knows indeed, Barbara?" responded Miss Stuart complacently. "Far
more unlikely things have often happened. You and Mollie look very well,
dear. Indeed, I never saw you in more becoming frocks. They are very
dainty and stylish."
"Aunt Sallie," confessed Mollie, "I never had a silk dress before in all
my life. Bab had one made over from an old one of mother's, but this is
positively my first appearance 'in silk attire.'"
Bab's costume was of apricot rajah silk, made with a plaited skirt and a
long coat, which fastened across her chest with a single gilt ornament.
With it she wore a delicate lace blouse over silk of the same shade as
her suit. Her hat was a large black chip with one long curling feather.
Mollie's dress was like Bab's, except that it was a delicate shade of
robin's-egg blue, while her hat was of soft white felt, trimmed with a
long blue feather.
"Let us look at ourselves in the mirror, Bab, until Miss Sallie is
ready," whispered Mollie. "I want to try to get used to my appearance.
Maybe you think this wealthy-looking person you now behold is some
relative of yours--possibly your sister! But just understand that, as I
look at myself in that mirror, nothing can make me believe I am poor
little Mollie Thurston, of Kingsbridge, New Jersey! Why, I am now about
to call on the English Ambassador, younger brother to an earl. But I am a
brave girl. I shall put on as bold a front as possible, and I shall try
not to disgrace Aunt Sallie by making any breaks."
"You goose you!" laughed Bab. "But to tell you the truth, sweet Mistress
Mollie, I feel pretty much as you do. There is Ruth calling us. They are
ready to start."
"Come on, children!" cried Ruth. "The automobile is waiting. My
goodness!" she exclaimed, as Mollie and Bab appeared before her. "How
very elegant you look! Don't tell me fine feathers don't make
fine-looking birds! Aunt Sallie, I am not magnificent enough to associate
with these two persons." Ruth had on a beautiful white serge suit and
Grace a long tan coat over a light silk dress; but, for the first time,
Mollie and Barbara were the most elegantly dressed of the four girls.
"People will be taking _you_ for the heiress, and marrying you to some
horrid titled foreigner!" teased Ruth, pinching Mollie's pretty cheek.
Miss Stuart and her girls found the English Ambassador and his wife in
the stately drawing room of their summer place in Lenox. The room was
sixty feet in length and hung with beautiful paintings. The walls and
furniture were upholstered in rose-colored brocade. Flowers were arranged
in every possible place.
The newcomers had a confused feeling that there were twenty or thirty
guests in the drawing room; but as the butler announced their names their
hostess moved forward from a group of friends to speak to them. In
another moment Dorothy Morton spied them, and came up with her arm
through that of a tall, middle-aged man, very slender, with closely cut
blond hair and a long drooping mustache. He looked very intellectual and
impressive.
"Miss Stuart, this is my father," said Dorothy simply. The Ambassador
bowed low over Miss Stuart's hand. He was then introduced to each of "The
Automobile Girls" in turn.
The Ambassador's eyes twinkled. He saw his young guests were a little
awed at meeting so great a diplomatic personage.
"You are the girls, aren't you, who have been camping on one of our
Berkshire hills?" the Ambassador inquired. "My daughters have told me
about your delightful hut. Curious, I never heard of the little cabin's
existence. I want you to show me the place. Some day I may follow your
example and run away to the woods for a few weeks. Dorothy tells me you
will help us with our games next week."
Miss Stuart excused herself. Mrs. Latham wished to talk with her in
another part of the drawing room.
"May we count on you for the Gymkana races, Ruth?" asked Dorothy Morton.
"Gymkana races!" questioned Ruth, shaking her head. "What in the world
can you mean?"
"Remember," laughed her hostess, "I told you our sports were to be a huge
joke. You must have a sense of humor, or you won't want to take part. You
know we have horse show grounds here in Lenox. Well, the Gymkana race
this year will take place over their meadow. Indeed, all the sports are
to be held there. Father, you explain what the games are like," Dorothy
requested.
The Ambassador looked very grave.
"Miss Stuart," he asked, "will you or your friends drive a turkey, a
duck, a hen, or a gander in our Gymkana race? My daughter, Dorothy, has,
I believe, reserved an old gray goose as her especial steed; but you can
make any other choice of racer that you may desire. The only point of the
game is to get the nose of your steed first under the blue ribbon. It may
take a good deal of racing and chasing on your own part to accomplish
it."
Dorothy inquired, turning first to Ruth, then to Bab, Mollie and Grace,
"May I put down your names for this race?"
Ruth laughed. "Certainly I shall enter," she declared. "I have as good a
nerve as anyone else. You must give me time to decide on what animal I
shall drive."
"I'll join, too!" Grace agreed. "Is this game for women only?"
"Yes," Dorothy replied. "Other distinguished sports are reserved for the
men. What do you think of my serious-minded father? He is down for the
'egg and spoon' race. So are Franz Heller and Mr. Winthrop Latham. I mean
to ask your two men friends, Mr. Post and Mr. Ewing, to enter, too. It's
great sport. The men have to run across the track carrying a raw egg in a
desert spoon. The man who first gets to the winning post without a mishap
is the winner. But there will be other games as well. I am just
mentioning a few of them."
Gwendolin Morton approached with Franz Heller and the tall blond girl
whom "The Automobile Girls" had seen for a moment at the postoffice.
"We have to come to believe in the American fashion of introducing our
friends," declared Miss Morton. "You know, in England it is not the
custom to introduce people to one another at a tea party. May I present
my friend, Maud Warren, to you, Miss Stuart, Miss Carter, and the Misses
Thurston."
The four girls bowed. Maud Warren inclined her head slightly, giving each
girl in turn a supercilious stare.
"I suppose father and Dorothy have been persuading you to take part in
the nonsensical side of our entertainment next week," inquired Gwendolin.
"I am trying to look after the riding. Do any of you ride horseback well
enough to go in for the hurdle jumping? I warn you, you will find it
difficult to win. Miss Warren is one of the best riders in New York. She
has taken prizes at hurdle jumping before, at her riding school."
Ruth declined. "I am afraid no one of us rides well enough to go in for
this contest. I ride, of course, but I am not equal to the jumping."
Ruth spied Barbara looking at her with longing eyes.
"I beg your pardon, Bab!" Ruth laughed. "I had no right to decline the
hurdle jumping for all of us. Would you like to try?"
"Of course, I should like to try!" Barbara exclaimed. "But I know it is
out of the question. I have no horse, and I haven't a riding habit here."
Barbara turned shyly to the Ambassador. "I have never done any real
hurdle jumping," she explained. "But I have jumped over all kinds of
fences riding through the country."
The Ambassador smiled. "You need no better training for hurdle races," he
replied.
"If a horse is what you need," cried Dorothy Morton, "why not use one
from our stables. We have a number of riding horses. Do let me lend you
one and enter the hurdle jumping contest. It is a dangerous amusement,
however. I won't try it."
"Oh, I am not in the least afraid," Bab declared. "Only, if I am left at
the post, and can't take a single hurdle, you must forgive me."
"Well, you understand," finished the Ambassador, "our amusements are only
for our own friends."
"Come here, Mollie," called Miss Stuart, from her corner of the room,
where she was seated near Mrs. Latham.
"Mollie," explained Miss Sallie, as the child approached, "Mrs. Latham is
much interested in our little Indian girl. Her son, Reginald, has told
her of the accident to Eunice. Mrs. Latham is anxious to know to what
hospital in Pittsfield Naki has taken the child. I did not ask Ruth. Can
you tell us the name?"
Mollie looked at Mrs. Latham steadily. The older woman dropped her eyes.
"Eunice is not yet allowed to see visitors," she answered.
"Oh, I have no wish to call on the child," Mrs. Latham protested, "but if
the Indian girl and her old grandmother are in want I shall send a man to
look after them. My brother is most generous to the poor, Miss Stuart."
But Mollie went on. "Thank you, Mrs. Latham, but Eunice and her
grandmother are not poor. Ruth is looking after them now. The grandmother
wishes to take Eunice back to their wigwam on the hill, when the little
girl is well enough to be moved."
Mrs. Latham frowned. She had her own reasons for wishing to discover the
address of the Indian woman and her child. Yet she did not want to appear
to be much interested.
Barbara came up to join Mollie.
"Your sister seems determined that no one shall take interest in your
little Indian protegee except her own friends," declared Mrs. Latham,
smiling at Bab. "Perhaps you would not object to telling me where the
child is located."
"Why certainly not!" Barbara exclaimed frankly, looking in surprise at
Mollie.
But Mollie interrupted her. The little girl's cheeks were burning hot.
She was conscious of her own bad manners, and of Miss Stuart's look of
disappointment. Yet she spoke before Bab could continue.
"I am sorry for Mrs. Latham to think I am rude in not telling her where
Eunice is staying; but it seems to me that, if her old Indian grandmother
has kept Eunice hidden all these years, she must have had some good
reason. It does not seem fair to me for us to talk about her just
because, through an accident, we had to send her to town. I think, if the
grandmother wishes to keep Eunice hidden, we ought at least to ask the
old woman's permission before we tell anyone where she is staying. I am
awfully sorry," Mollie ended, apologetically, "but I do feel that I am
right."
Mrs. Latham was very angry. "I am sure I beg your pardon, Miss Thurston,"
she rejoined icily, before she moved away. "I meant nothing by my
harmless inquiry. I can assure you I am not unduly interested in your
protegee. If you wish to keep the gypsy girl's hiding place a secret,
do so, by all means."
"Mollie, I am exceedingly angry with you!" said Miss Sallie.
"How could you be so horrid, Mollie?" whispered Bab.
Mollie's blue eyes were swimming in tears, but she would not let them
fall on her flushed cheeks. She knew she must say good-bye to her new
acquaintances, so she dared not answer Miss Sallie then.
But on the way back to their hotel, seated next Miss Stuart in the
automobile, Mollie tried to offer an explanation for her rude behavior.
"Miss Sallie," she pleaded softly, "I know you are dreadfully angry with
me; and I am afraid you won't forgive me; but I just couldn't make up my
mind to let Mrs. Latham know where to find Eunice and her old
grandmother. I know you will think I am foolish. Perhaps I am. But I have
a feeling that Reginald Latham and his mother mean no good to Eunice. I
can't help remembering how the old squaw acted when she first heard the
name of Latham. I cannot believe she was just acting for effect as
Reginald Latham said she was. There is some mystery about little Eunice.
Do you think, Miss Sallie, we girls have a right to betray the old Indian
woman's secrets?"
"My sympathies are all with Mollie, Aunt Sallie!" Ruth declared. "I shall
have to come in for a share of her scolding."
But Barbara shook her head. "I never knew anyone so prejudiced as Mollie
is against Reginald Latham. What on earth do you suppose he and his
mother could have against a poor old squaw and her little girl? Would you
have helped pulled Reginald down out of his airship, if you had known how
you would dislike him, Mollie?" Bab asked.
But Mollie was looking wistfully at Miss Sallie, and did not heed
Barbara's question.
"I don't care what a young girl may think on any subject," Miss Stuart
declared firmly, "she has no right to be rude to an older woman. And
Mollie was undeniably rude to Mrs. Latham in refusing to answer her
simple question. It could have done no harm to have told her the name of
the hospital where Eunice is being treated."
"No, it wouldn't have done Eunice any harm to tell that much, Mollie,"
Ruth agreed, "because, if that very determined Mrs. Latham wishes to
discover where little Eunice is, she will certainly accomplish it. Why,
she rules her grown-up son with a rod of iron!"
"Mark my words!" said Grace, joining quietly in the conversation--Grace
was not often given to expressing an opinion, so even Miss Sallie
listened to her with respect. "I would like to bet a great big box of
candy that Mrs. Latham sees Eunice and her Indian grandmother before they
are many weeks older. The Lathams have some connection with little
Eunice, though goodness knows I can't guess what it is."
Mollie had nothing more to say. She was in the motor car now. Her tears
could flow freely.
Miss Sallie pretended, for a few moments, not to see that Mollie was
crying. A breach in social etiquette was a sore offense to Miss Stuart.
But after a little while she put her arm around the little girl and gave
her a gentle squeeze.
"I will forgive you, this time, dear," she murmured, "but I never want
you, Mollie, to be rude to a grown person again. And I don't think, my
dear, it is a good idea to have a suspicious nature."
"I didn't mean to be rude," Mollie sighed, putting her head against Miss
Stuart's arm. "I was only trying not to tell Mrs. Latham what she wanted
to know." Because it was now dark, and Mollie could not see her face,
Miss Sallie smiled.