The household was late in pulling itself together next morning. At
half-past nine, Mary and her husband, John, had carried trays of coffee
and rolls to the rooms of the guests, informing them, at the same time,
that luncheon would be served at half-past twelve.
Mollie and Grace, in dressing gowns and slippers, had carried their
trays into the room shared by Ruth and Barbara. Miss Sallie had
followed, looking so charming in her lavender silk wrapper, elaborately
trimmed with lace and ribbons that all the girls had exclaimed with
admiration; which put the lady in a very good humor at the outset. Who
does not like to be complimented, especially in the early morning when
one is not apt to feel at one's best?
To add to the gayety of the company there was a knock on the door,
which, when opened, disclosed John bearing a large tray of flowers, a
small nosegay for each of the girls and a large bunch of dewy sweet peas
for Miss Sallie, all with the major's compliments.
"What a man he is!" she cried. "He disarms me with his bunches of
flowers just as I was about to tell him something very disagreeable. I
really don't see how I can do it."
"Oh, please don't, auntie, dear!" exclaimed Ruth. "I know what it is. We
all do. But if we broke up the party, and went trailing off home, now
that the worst is over, it wouldn't do anybody much good, and think of
what a beautiful time we would be missing. To tell you the truth,
auntie, we are just dying to stay. In spite of everything we are. Aren't
we, girls?"
"Yes, indeed," came in a chorus from the other three girls, a little
faintly from Bab perhaps, but very eagerly from Mollie and Grace.
"Well, we'll see," replied Miss Sallie. "But it does seem to me that
this trip has started off very badly. Three attacks in as many days."
"That's true," said Ruth. "Yet by the magic Rule of Three we should have
no more. We have finished now and the curse is lifted."
"When Mollie's old Gypsy comes over we must ask her to tell a few
things," observed Grace. "I believe she really can predict the future.
That night when you and Bab had gone with the Gypsies to get the
automobile I asked her if she told fortunes, and all she said was: 'I
can tell when there is blood on the moon.'"
"What a horrible idea!" exclaimed Miss Sallie. "Weren't you frightened?"
"No, I wasn't frightened, because she seemed to have forgotten me
entirely. I really thought, at the time, she must be talking about her
own affairs. She looked so black and fierce."
"Perhaps she meant José's blood," remarked Mollie from behind her
nosegay of honeysuckle and mignonette.
"Well, there wasn't much of it," replied Bab, "because José received
only a scratch, and lost scarcely any blood. It was a close shave,
though. Just half an inch nearer and it would have gone straight through
his head."
"He seems to be a very remarkable young man," said Miss Sallie. "Did you
notice he never said one word? Just sat there as quietly as if nothing
had happened."
"He was thinking," answered Barbara. "But of course most people would
have been too frightened to think. Did you notice the knife?" she
ventured.
But nobody had, evidently. They had all been too excited and
horror-struck at the time to have noticed anything.
"I saw it was a knife, and that was all," said Ruth.
"I never saw a man dance before," observed Mollie, as if following aloud
a train of thoughts she had been pursuing while the others talked. "I
was almost sorry he said he would, but when I saw what kind of dancing
it was I was glad. It was really and truly a man's dance. I think it
must have been a toreador's dance, don't you?"
"Something like this," said Ruth, using a towel for a scarf and a comb
for a dagger. "And, by the way," she continued, pausing as she pranced
around the room, "how did he happen to have a dagger so handy!"
"That's because he is a Spaniard, my dear," remarked Miss Sallie. "These
foreigners carry anything from dynamite bombs to carving knives. They
are always murdering and slashing one another."
"Perhaps," cried Mollie, excitedly, "it was the Black Hand that tried to
kill him."
The others all laughed.
"Really, Mollie," cried Miss Sallie, "don't add any more horrors to the
situation. We are already surrounded by Gypsies, and tramps and
assassins."
"But protected, Aunt Sallie, dear," protested Ruth, "protected by five
'gintlemin frinds,' as Irish Nora used to say."
"Well, dress yourselves now," said Miss Stuart, making for the door with
her silken draperies trailing after her. "And remember, Ruth, dear, if
your father scolds us for staying I shall lay all the blame on you."
"Oh, I will manage Dad," replied Ruth.
When the two girls were left alone they did not speak for a little
while. Barbara, who was sitting on the floor near the window with her
head propped against a pillow, closed her eyes, and for a moment Ruth
thought she was asleep. A breeze laden with the perfume of the
honeysuckle vines stirred the curtain. Barbara took in a deep breath,
opened her eyes and sat up.
"Ruth," she said, "do you know, the smell of the honeysuckles gives me
the queerest sensation? I feel as if I had been here before, once long
ago, ever so long. I can't remember when, and of course I haven't been,
but isn't it curious? These old rooms are as familiar to me as if I had
lived in them. I believe I could find my way blindfolded around the
house."
"I should like to see you try it," replied Ruth, "especially when you
struck one of those back passages that lead off into nowhere in
particular. But you are tired, Bab, dear," continued her friend, leaning
over and patting her on the cheek. "Come along, now, and get dressed. I
told Stephen and Alfred we would play them a game of tennis some time
this morning."
The girls found the two boys waiting in the hall to keep their
appointment. Alfred was fast losing his shyness in the presence of these
two wholesome and unaffected girls who could play tennis almost as well
as he could, ride horseback, run a motor car, repel a highwayman with a
pistol and not lose their heads when they needed to keep them most. But,
what was more to the purpose, they were not in the least shy or afraid
to speak out. They were full of high spirits and knew how to have a good
time without appealing constantly to some everlasting governess who was
always tagging after them, or asking mamma's permission. In fact, Alfred
had suffered a change of heart. When he had heard the house party was to
be increased by a number of girls he had bitterly repented ever having
left England. By this time, however, he could not imagine a house party
without girls, especially American girls.
"I say, you know," he said to Ruth as they strolled toward the beautiful
tennis court that was shaded, at one side, by a row of tall elm trees,
"must I call you Ruth? I notice the other fellows do?"
"Oh, well," replied Ruth, "we are none of us actually grown yet and what
is the use of so much formality before it is really necessary? What do
you do in England?"
"In England," replied Alfred, "we don't call them anything. We don't see
them except in the holidays, and then they are only sisters and
cousins."
"Isn't there any fun in sisters and cousins?" asked Ruth.
"Well, they're not very jolly," replied the candid youth; "not as jolly
as you, that is."
Ruth laughed. By this time they had reached the court and were selecting
racquets and tossing for sides.
"Stephen, Ruth and I will play against you and Barbara," said Alfred
rather testily. "What is the use of tossing when it was arranged
beforehand?"
"You seem rather eager, Alfred, my boy," replied Stephen. "I'm sure we
have no objections, have we, Barbara?"
"None," said Barbara, "At least I haven't. You may, however, when you
hear that Ruth won the championship at Newport last summer."
"You look to me like a pretty good player, too," said Stephen.
Just then Jimmie Butler appeared, bearing a hammock and a book.
"You can get in the next set, Jimmie," called Stephen. "We are just
starting in on this one."
"I don't care for the game," replied Jimmie. "I prefer a book 'neath the
bough, especially as this house party seems to go in companies of twos.
Every laddie has a lassie but me, so I've taken to literature."
He waved his hand toward the garden, and then toward the walk leading
from the house.
In the old-fashioned flower garden, a stone's throw from the court,
could be seen Miss Sallie and the major strolling along the paths,
stopping occasionally to examine the late roses and smell the
honeysuckle trained over wicker arches.
In the direction of the house appeared Mollie and Grace, followed by
Martin and José. The sound of their laughter floated over to Jimmie as
he swung in his hammock.
"Keep away, all," he called as he spread himself comfortably among the
cushions and opened his book. "I intend to enter a monastery and take
the vow of silence, and this is a good time to begin. It's easy because
I have nobody to talk to."
"What are you grumbling about, Jimmie?" asked the major, who came up
just then with Miss Sallie.
"Oh, nothing at all, Major," replied Jimmie. "I was only saying how
delightful it was to see all you young people walking around this sylvan
place in couples. It reminds me of my lost youth."
"Jimmie's lonesome," exclaimed Martin. "We'll have to get up some more
excitement if we want to keep him happy."
"Very well," replied the major. "We will. The most exciting thing I can
think of, just now, is to take a long ride in the automobiles, or go
driving, whichever the ladies prefer, and wind up at the forest pool for
tea. How does that strike you, Jimmie?"
"It sounds fine," said Jimmie, "if you mean the haunted pool. It is a
beautiful spot, and it has a new haunt since last you saw it, Major.
It's haunted by water nymphs now."
"Only nymphs in wading," cried Mollie, blushing. "Jimmie caught us in
the act yesterday morning."
"Oho!" exclaimed the major. "You really are little girls, after all, are
you?"
"Think of going in wading in that lonesome spot," said Grace, "and
actually meeting somebody as casually as if you were walking up Fifth
Avenue?"
"You're likely to meet Jimmie anywhere," said Martin. "He's a regular
Johnnie-on-the-spot. He is the first person to get up and the last one
to go to bed. Excitements have a real attraction for him. Haven't they,
Jimsy?" and Martin gave the hammock such an affectionate shake that
Jimmie nearly fell out on his face.
The luncheon gong rang out in the summer stillness, and they started
toward the house, leaving the players to finish the game.
"José," asked the major, putting his arm through the young Spaniard's,
"have you any theories about last night?"
"Yes," replied José. "I do not think it will do any good to hunt for the
one who threw the knife. I have, in my country, an enemy. I believe it
was he."
"What?" cried the major. "He has followed you all the way to America,
and your life is constantly in danger?"
"I do not think he will come again," answered José. "At any rate, I am
not afraid," he added, shrugging his shoulders, "and I can do nothing."
"You could have him arrested," said Miss Sallie.
"Yes, Madam, I could. But it would not be easy to catch him."
"Dear, dear!" exclaimed Miss Sallie. "What a dangerous country Spain
must be to live in!"
"No more dangerous than America, Madam, I find," replied José.
"True enough," assented Miss Sallie, "since this is America and not
Spain, and we find ourselves in a perfect hotbed of criminals. My dear
John, I think we shall need a body-guard if we go out in the open this
afternoon."
"Well, Sallie," answered the courteous old man, "you shall have one in
me and my nephews and their friends--a devoted body-guard, I assure
you."
At luncheon the feeling of good will which comes to friends who have
just found each other, so to speak, had spread itself. Enjoyment was in
the air and there were no discordant elements. All their troubles were
of the past, and Bab determined to cast aside her suspicions and regard
José in the light of a mysterious but otherwise exceedingly attractive
foreigner. When she looked across the table into his clear, brown eyes,
which regarded her sadly but without a single guilty quiver of the lids,
she could not but believe that there had been some bitter mistake
somewhere. He was lonely and strange, and there was something about him
that aroused her pity. Everybody liked him; even Miss Sallie was
attracted by his graceful and gentle manners.
Luncheon over, everyone made ready for the auto trip, and it was not
long before the two autos carrying a merry party, had set forth.