AT THE WHITE HOUSE
Mollie Thurston was not well the next day. She stayed in bed and
explained that her head ached. And Harriet Hamlin behaved very strangely.
She was shut up in the room with Mollie for a long time; when she came
out Mollie's eyes were red, and Harriet looked white as a sheet. But
neither of the girls would say what was the matter.
Just before the hour for starting to the White House reception, Mollie
got out of bed and insisted on dressing.
"I am afraid you are not well enough to go out to-night, Mollie," Bab
protested. "I hope you won't be too disappointed. Shall I stay at home
with you?"
Mollie shook her head obstinately. "I am quite well now," she insisted.
"Bab, would you mind leaving me alone while I dress? I do feel nervous,
and I know Ruth and Grace won't care if you go into their room."
"All right, Mollie," Barbara agreed cheerfully, wondering what had
come over her little sister. "Call me when you wish me to button your
gown. I have put the yellow one out on the lounge, if you should
decide to wear it."
When Mollie was left alone two large tears rolled down her cheeks. Once
she started to crawl back into bed and to give up the reception
altogether. But, after a while, she walked over to her closet and drew
out a great box. With trembling fingers Mollie opened it and gazed in
upon the exquisite blue frock that had already caused her so much
embarrassment and regret.
Should she wear the frock that night? Mollie Thurston asked herself. And
what would Bab say when she saw it? For Mollie had not yet mustered up
the courage to make her confession. Well, come what might, Mollie decided
to wear her new frock this one time. She had risked everything to own it,
so she might as well have this poor pleasure.
When Mollie joined Mr. Hamlin and the other girls downstairs a long party
cape completely concealed her gown.
Mr. Hamlin did not keep a private carriage; so, as long as Ruth's
automobile was in Washington, he decided to take his party to the White
House in Ruth's car.
The girls were ready early, for Mr. Hamlin explained to them that they
would have to take their position in the line of carriages that slowly
approached the White House door, and that sometimes this procession was
nearly a mile in length.
"I suppose you girls won't mind the waiting as much as we older people
do, because you always have so much to say to each other. And perhaps
this is my best chance to learn to know you better. I have been so busy
that I have seen little of you during your visit to Harriet."
But Mollie and Harriet were strangely silent, and Bab felt absolutely
tongue-tied before Mr. Hamlin. Fortunately, Grace and Ruth sat on each
side of him.
"Mr. Hamlin," Grace asked timidly, "would you mind telling me what are
the duties of the Secretary of State? Washington is like a new, strange
world to us. I have learned the titles of the different members of the
President's Cabinet, but I have not the faintest idea what they do.
Mollie and I looked over the cards of the guests who came to your
reception. Some of the cards just read: 'The Speaker,' 'The Chief of
Staff,' 'L'Ambassadeur de France,' without any personal names at all."
Mr. Hamlin seemed pleased. The stern, half-embarrassed expression, that
he usually wore before the girls relaxed a little at Grace's eager
questioning.
"I am glad, Miss Carter, to find you take an interest in Washington
affairs," he answered. "It is most unusual in a young girl. I wish
Harriet cared more about them, but she seems devoted only to society."
Mr. Hamlin sighed under his breath. "Yes; it is the custom for the
officials in Washington to put only the titles of their office on their
visiting cards. You are sure you wish to know the duties of the Secretary
of State? I don't want to bore you, my child."
Grace nodded her head eagerly.
"Well, let me see if I can make it plain to you. The Secretary of State
has charge of all the correspondence between the foreign countries and
their representatives in the United States," Mr. Hamlin continued. "Do
you understand?"
"I think I do," Grace answered hesitatingly, while Bab leaned over from
the next seat to see if she could understand what Mr. Hamlin was
explaining.
"The Secretary of State also receives all kinds of information from the
consuls and diplomatic officers, who represent the United States abroad,"
Mr. Hamlin went on. "Sometimes this information is very important and
very secret. It might bring on serious trouble, perhaps start a war with
another country, if some of these secrets were discovered. The Secretary
of State has other duties; he keeps the Great Seal of the United States.
But my chief business as Assistant Secretary is just to look after the
important private correspondence with all the other countries."
"Father," exclaimed Harriet, "why are you boring the girls to death
with so much information? They don't understand what you mean. I have
been living in Washington for four years, and I have not half an idea
of what your duties are. But thank goodness, we have arrived at the
White House at last!"
Their motor car had finally drawn up before the entrance to the Executive
Mansion at the extremity of the eastern wing. The house was a blaze of
lights; the Marine Band was playing a national air.
Harriet, who was familiar with all the rules that govern the President's
receptions, quickly marshaled her guests into the lobby, where they had
to take off their coats and hats.
Bab was so overcome at the enormous number of people about her, that she
did not see Mollie remove her cape.
Mollie slipped quietly into a corner, and was waiting by Harriet's side,
when Harriet called the other girls to hurry up the broad stairs to the
vestibule above, where the guests were forming in line to enter the
reception room.
Barbara, Ruth and Grace gave little gasps of astonishment when they
first beheld Mollie. If little Mollie Thurston's heart was heavy within
her on this brilliant occasion, she held her pretty head very high. The
worry and excitement had given her a slight fever; her cheeks were a deep
carmine and her eyes glittered brightly.
"Why, Mollie! What a vision you are!" exclaimed Ruth and Grace together.
"Where did you get that wonderful gown? You have been saving it to
surprise us to-night, haven't you?"
But Bab did not say a single word. She only looked at Mollie, her face
paling a little with surprise and curiosity. How had Mollie come by a
gown that was more beautiful than anything Bab had ever seen her sister
wear? Barbara knew Mollie had not had the gown when they left home
together, for she had packed her sister's trunk for her. But this was not
the time to ask questions. Bab's mind was divided between the wonder and
delight she felt at the scene before her, and amazement at Mollie's
secret. "I do hope," she thought, as she followed Mr. Hamlin up the
steps, "that Mollie has not borrowed that gown of Harriet. But no; it
fits her much too well. Some one must have given it to her as a present
and she has kept the secret until to-night to surprise me."
The "Automobile Girls" stood behind Mr. Hamlin and Harriet in the great
vestibule just outside the famous Blue Room of the White House, where
the President and his wife were waiting to receive their guests. The
line was moving forward so slowly that the girls had a chance to look
about them. Never had any one of them beheld such a beautiful spectacle.
Of course the "Automobile Girls" had been present at a number of
receptions during their brief social careers, but for the first time
to-night they saw men in other than ordinary evening dress. The
diplomats from other countries wore their superb court costumes with the
insignia of their rank. The American Army and Navy officers had on their
bright full dress uniforms.
Bab thought the Russian Ambassador the most superb looking man she had
ever seen, and Mollie blushed when Lieutenant Elmer Wilson bowed
gallantly to her across the length of the hall.
When the girls first took up their positions in the line, they believed
they would never grow weary of looking about them. But by and by, as they
waited and the number of people ahead of them only slowly decreased, they
grew tired.
A girl passed by Barbara and smiled. It was Marjorie Moore. She was
not going to try to shake hands with the President. She had a note
book and a pencil in her hand and was evidently bent on business.
Barbara also caught a glimpse of Peter Dillon, but he did not come up
to speak to them.
Mr. Hamlin's charges at last entered the Blue Room. The President and his
receiving party stood by a pair of great windows hung with heavy silk
portieres.
It was now almost time for the "Automobile Girls" to shake hands with the
President. They were overcome with nervousness.
Harriet was next to her father; Bab stood just behind Harriet, followed
by Ruth, Grace and Mollie.
"You are just supposed to shake hands with the President, not to talk to
him," Harriet whispered. "Then the President's wife is next and you may
greet the other women in the receiving line as you pass along. The
Vice-President's wife stands next to the President's wife and the ladies
of the Cabinet just after her."
Bab watched Harriet very carefully. She was determined to make no
false moves.
Finally, Barbara heard her name announced by the Master of Ceremonies.
She felt her heart stop beating for a moment, and the color mount to her
cheeks. The next moment her hand was clasped in that of the President of
the United States.
Barbara said a little prayer of thankfulness when she had finished
speaking to all the receiving ladies. She felt glad, indeed, when Mr.
Hamlin drew her behind a thick blue silk cord, where the President's
special guests were talking in groups together. Bab then watched Ruth,
Grace and Mollie go through the same formality.
Now nobody had ever warned Mollie that it was not good form to speak to
the President before he spoke to her. She thought it was polite to make
some kind of a remark when she was introduced to him. So all the way up
the line she had been wondering what she ought to say.
As the President took Mollie's little hand he bent over slightly. For a
very small voice said, "I like Washington very much, Mr. President."
The President smiled. "I am glad you do," he answered.
A little later, Mr. Hamlin took the girls through all the state
apartments of the White House. One of these rooms was less crowded than
the others. Groups of Mr. Hamlin's friends were standing about laughing
and talking together. Barbara was next Mr. Hamlin when she happened to
glance toward a far corner of the room. There she saw her newspaper
friend. The girl made a mysterious sign to Barbara to come over to her
and to come alone. But Bab shook her head.
Still she felt the girl's eyes on her. Each time she turned, Marjorie
Moore again made her strange signal. Once she pointed significantly
toward a group of people. But Bab only saw the broad back of the little
Chinese Minister and the stately form of the Russian Ambassador. The
two men were talking to a number of Washington officials whose names
Barbara did not even know. Of course, Marjorie Moore's peculiar actions
could not refer to them. But to save her life Bab could not find any
one else nearby.
Womanlike, Barbara's curiosity was aroused. What could the girl want with
her? Evidently, her news was a secret, for Miss Moore did not come near
Mr. Hamlin's party and Bab simply could not get away without offering
some explanation to them.
Barbara was growing tired of the reception. She had been introduced to so
many people that her brain was fairly spinning in an effort to remember
their names. Again Bab looked across at Miss Moore. This time the
newspaper girl pointed with her pencil through a small open door, near
which she was standing. Her actions said as plainly as any words could
speak: "Follow me when you have a chance. There is something I must tell
you!" The next instant Marjorie Moore vanished through this door and was
lost to sight.
A few minutes later Bab managed to slip over to that side of the room.
She intended merely to peep out the open door to see whether Miss Moore
were waiting for her in the hall. Bab carefully watched her opportunity.
Mr. Hamlin and the girls were not looking. Now was her chance. She was
just at the door, when some one intercepted her.
"Ah! Good evening, Miss Thurston," said a suave voice.
Barbara turned, blushing again to confront the Chinese Minister looking
more magnificent than ever in his Imperial robes of state.
The young girl paused and greeted the official. Still the Chinese
Minister regarded her gravely with his inscrutable Oriental eyes that
seemed to look her through and through. He seemed always about to ask her
some question.
Of course, Barbara was obliged to give up her effort to follow Marjorie
Moore, though she was still devoured with curiosity to know what the girl
had wished to say to her. The next ten minutes, wherever Bab went, she
felt the Chinese Minister's gaze follow her.
It was not until Barbara Thurston discovered that the Oriental gentleman
had himself withdrawn from the reception room that she mustered up a
sufficient courage to try her venture the second time.
"Miss Moore, of course, is not expecting me now," Barbara thought. "But
as I have a chance, I will see what has become of her."
Bab peeped cautiously out through the still open door. She saw only an
empty corridor with a servant standing idly in the hall. Should she go
forward? No; Barbara did not, of course, dare to wander through the White
House halls alone. She was too likely to find herself in some place to
which visitors were not admitted.
The servant who waited in the hall saw Barbara hesitate, then turn back.
He leaned over and whispered mysteriously: "You are to come to the door
at the west side, which opens on the lawn. The young woman left a message
that she would wait for you there."
"But I don't know the west side," Bab faltered hesitatingly, feeling that
she ought to turn back, yet anxious to go on.
"The young woman said it was most important for her to see you; I can
show you the way to the west door," the man went on.
Barbara now quickly made up her mind. Marjorie Moore was only a girl like
herself. If she needed her or if she wanted to confide in her, Bab meant
to answer the summons.
Bab found the portico deserted. There was no one in sight.
Down on the lawn, some distance ahead, she thought she saw a figure
moving. Barbara drew her chiffon scarf more closely over her shoulders
and ran quickly out into the garden without thinking. It was, of course,
Marjorie Moore ahead of her. But Bab had not gone far, when the figure
disappeared, and she realized her own foolishness. She must get back into
the White House in a hurry before any one found out what she had done.
It was exceedingly dark out on the lawn in contrast with the brilliant
illumination of the house, and Barbara was running swiftly. She had begun
to wonder what explanation she could make if Harriet or Mr. Hamlin asked
where she had been. As usual, Barbara was repenting a rash impulse too
late. She ran obliquely across the yard in order to return in a greater
hurry. Between a clump of bushes set at some distance apart her feet
struck against something soft and heavy and Bab pitched forward across
the object.