AN EMBARRASSING MOMENT
"OH, it is good to be back," declared Bab, as they entered the broad,
cheerful hall of the Stuart mansion. "I don't feel as though I ever
wanted to leave the house again."
"I like it here just as well as you do," answered Mollie. "But I
shouldn't like to feel that I had to stay inside the house always."
Ruth had made good time on the return, now and then "shaving the paint
from the sides of a street car," as Bab expressed it. Still, Ruth Stuart
was not nearly as careless a driver as she appeared to be. She did take
chances frequently, but the guiding hand at the wheel was sure and
steady. She seldom used bad judgment. Her father had such confidence in
her driving that he never interfered while riding with her. As for the
three Kingsbridge girls, they were by this time so used to Ruth's
driving that they declined to get nervous even when she had narrow
escapes from collision.
"Girls, I am glad you have returned," greeted Miss Sallie, meeting them
in the hallway as they entered. "You have callers."
"Pshaw!" muttered Ruth disgustedly. "Bab wants to lie down and rest. She
is all upset. Can't we make our escape?"
"I am all right now," protested Barbara. "However, the company probably
came to see Ruth instead of the rest of us."
"You are wrong," smiled Aunt Sallie.
"Who is it?" questioned Ruth.
"Cousin Richard, Cousin Jane and Tom Presby. You don't mind them."
"Oh, no indeed," laughed Ruth. "Come on, girls, let's go upstairs and
get rid of our wraps, and remove some of this Chicago smoke from our
faces. If I look as dirty as I feel I must be a sight."
"Father and mother here? You don't mean it?" exclaimed Olive in
surprise. "I wonder why they have come in. Girls, you needn't worry
about your appearance. Neither father nor mother will notice it. They
are well used to the ways of healthy girls. As for Tom, well he doesn't
figure at all. He wouldn't know whether our faces were clean or grimy.
Come right in. Are they in the library, Aunt Sallie?"
"Yes, dear."
"Not one step will I go until I have made myself more beautiful,"
declared Ruth.
"I don't think that would be possible," said Bab in a tone calculated
for Ruth's ears alone.
"Don't," begged Ruth. "I shall think you insincere if you don't stop
talking that way. And my face is so besmudged that I am not fit to see
anyone. You must come upstairs with me," she added, linking an arm in
Barbara's. "Please tell them we shall be right down, Auntie."
Olive went directly to the library to see her parents. The other girls
soon followed her. The library was darkened, lighted only by the
snapping fire in the fireplace. Mr. Presby explained that he had come
into town to see Mr. Stuart, who was at that moment welcoming him. Mr.
Stuart excused himself, promising that he would return to his guests as
soon as he had telephoned certain necessary orders to his office. Mr.
Stuart had barely left the room when Bab and Ruth entered. Olive came
forward quickly. She took Barbara's arm in hers, steering Bab toward
Mrs. Presby.
"I want you to meet my mother. I know you will love her, for she's a
dear. Mama, this is Barbara Thurston, of whom you have heard so much. I
can assure you that she has not been overrated."
Bab moved blushingly forward. The floor was one of those slippery,
hard-wood traps for the unwary. Barbara was not used to polished floors.
She took a long step to keep up with Olive, who was moving rapidly.
Bab's foot came in contact with a small rug, and together the rug and
foot slid over the slippery floor.
Barbara Thurston's other foot followed the first. Realizing that a fall
was inevitable, Barbara quickly released her arm from Miss Presby's.
"Oh!" exclaimed Bab, and sat down on the floor with such force that it
jarred her from head to foot. There was a distinct vibration from
several articles in the room as though they were moving out of sheer
sympathy for the unfortunate girl.
Barbara struggled to her feet. Again she stumbled over the rug that had
caused her to fall, and brought up heavily against a dark object near
by. The object uttered a deep groan, as out of the shadows limped an
elderly, dignified man. Pain and anger were struggling for the mastery
of his facial expression. Barbara had landed fairly on Mr. Richard
Presby's gouty foot.
"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," pleaded the girl. "I am so awkward and I
did not see you at all. Please forgive me, if you can," she begged.
Mr. Presby, however, merely grunted out some unintelligible words. That
he was not appeased by her contrition was plain to be seen. He had been
in the act of rising to his feet to bow to the girls when Bab collided
with him. Grace, Mollie and Ruth, who had followed Barbara into the
room, suppressed their giggles with no little effort.
Barbara rushed toward the shadowy, far corner of the room, where she
sought to hide her confusion. She flung herself into a great, easy
chair. Something under her moved and wriggled.
"Oh, I say," exclaimed a voice from under her. "Get up. Don't put me out
of business, too."
Bab sprang to her feet, her face burning with humiliation. She whirled
about and peered into the depths of the chair. There sat a boy of
twelve, grinning from ear to ear.
"I'm Tom," he informed her. "Lucky for me it wasn't I who stepped on the
governor's game foot."
"Oh!" cried Barbara.
"I forgive you for sitting on me, but gracious, you're heavy."
Just at this moment Olive Presby, had hurried across the room. There was
deep sympathy in her face as she extended a hand to the embarrassed
Barbara.
"Don't mind it at all, dear. It is a thing that occurs to all of us
frequently. Polished floors are such a nuisance," said Olive.
The other girls had been introduced to Mrs. Presby in the meantime. It
was now Bab's turn, but instead of being first, as Olive had intended,
she was last. Her face was still flushed and her eyelids drooped as she
was presented.
Mrs. Presby pulled the girl's head down between two warm hands and gazed
into her eyes, then kissed Barbara full on the lips.
"Never mind, my dear," she said. "You couldn't help it."
"If I could have a good cry, I know I should feel better," was Bab's
plaintive rejoinder.
"Richard, come here, please, and shake hands with Miss Thurston,"
commanded Aunt Jane in a slightly peremptory tone. Mr. Presby did so,
but with apparent reluctance. He had had one experience with the
brown-haired girl from Kingsbridge.
"My dears, we want you to come to Treasureholme with us. We cannot spare
Olive, so you will have to come to us," smiled Mrs. Presby.
"We want you to come out for Christmas," interjected Mr. Presby rather
grudgingly, and as if he were reciting a line from memory.
"Before Christmas," nodded Mrs. Presby. "You must come out this week.
Sallie, you will come with them. We shall expect Robert also, though I
suppose he will be running away to the city all the time."
"I don't know whether Robert will wish to spare the girls or not. He
likes to have them with him as much as possible," said Miss Sallie.
"Treasureholme? What a beautiful name!" breathed Barbara.
"And such a romantic name too," added Mollie soulfully. "I could love
the place just on account of its name."
"We call the place 'Treasureholme' because it is or has been supposed to
hold a lost treasure. But we have given up that idea. We gave it up a
long, long time ago. You will come, won't you, girls? This, in all
probability, will be our last Christmas in the old home. We wish to make
it a bright and joyous occasion," said Mrs. Presby, with a wan smile.
"We have planned to have a Christmas tree. Cousin Robert, you and Sallie
can have the gifts delivered at our place just as well as at your home
here."
"I shall have to leave it all to Robert," answered Miss Sallie.
"Robert's business, as you know, is giving him no little concern these
days. He may not care to leave it, and I am certain he would not consent
to the girls going away at this time unless it were possible for him to
spend at least part of the time with them."
"Then I shall talk with Robert myself," announced Mrs. Presby firmly.
She did so then and there. Rather, she went directly to Mr. Stuart's
own particular sanctum, where Robert and Mr. Presby were then in
consultation over business matters. Mr. Stuart did object to the girls
going to Treasureholme to spend Christmas. But Mrs. Presby pleaded with
him to let them come. She told him that before another Christmas came
Treasureholme would be in other hands. She pleaded with Robert Stuart to
let nothing stand in the way of helping them all to have a joyous
holiday in the old home.
Mr. Stuart finally gave a reluctant consent. Mrs. Presby hurried back to
the library to acquaint the girls with his decision. A merry chatter
followed. Everyone talked at once, each making suggestions as to what
should be worn and how the Christmas holiday should be spent in the
country. As for the "Automobile Girls" from Kingsbridge, the idea of
going to the country appealed to them strongly. It would seem almost
like being home again. It must be confessed that Bab and Mollie now and
then suffered the pangs of homesickness, even though they found so
little time for their own thoughts.
It was finally decided that they were to leave for Treasureholme, a
distance of more than thirty miles from the city, on the following
Monday, three days hence. Mrs. Presby consented to Olive remaining with
them until that time, and accompanying the girls to the country in
Ruth's motor car. That arrangement stood. The guests declined an
invitation to remain to dinner and as soon as the two men had finished
their business talk, Mr. and Mrs. Presby took their leave.
Two of the following three days were given up to a round of
sight-seeing, paying and receiving calls on friends of the Stuarts,
during which time the cylinders of Ruth's automobile scarcely had time
to grow cold. Mr. A. Bubble was doing his full duty during these happy
days.
Sunday was a day of rest. All were ready for the rest, too. The
Kingsbridge girls looked a little more pale than usual, but their eyes
were bright and sparkling when Monday morning arrived. It was a clear,
frosty morning, with a suggestion of snow in the air. Miss Sallie had
risen early, in order to have plenty of time to make all arrangements
for their trip. She saw to it also that the girls' wardrobes were
properly selected for their stay in the country, and suggested that they
have the chauffeur drive them out.
"No, indeed," objected Ruth. "I am not wholly a fair-weather driver. I
shall have my heavy gloves. Therefore, my hands will be warm and my feet
will be so well occupied with working the brake and control that they
won't have time to get cold. Girls, you won't have anything to do, so
wrap yourselves up. Auntie, I'm going to get out some of father's heavy
coats. He won't need them."
"A jolly good idea," agreed Mollie. "Always provided that the master of
the house doesn't object," she added, smiling at Mr. Stuart.
"My dear, if you had lived in this house as long as I have, you would
understand that it would make little difference if the master of the
house did object," interjected Mr. Stuart.
"Oh, dad," chided Ruth. "How can you say such a thing? You know I am
your dutiful daughter."
"You suit me," answered Mr. Stuart, giving the protesting Ruth a quick
embrace and a kiss on the forehead. "Yes, take anything you can find in
the house. But leave the house. I may need it before I get out of the
woods."
A shadow flitted across the face of Ruth Stuart. Then she smiled and
kissed her father affectionately. A search for coats was made and a
thousand and one details attended to. It was well into the afternoon
before they were ready to start, Bab wrapped in Mr. Stuart's long fur
coat, the other girls in cloth coats, with the exception of Ruth, who
wore her own sealskin coat that reached down to her ankles. A fur cap,
silk lined and a pair of fur gloves that looked, Barbara said, like the
feet of a bear, completed the outfit.
Mr. A. Bubble was grumbling when the girls emerged from the house. Their
bags had been strapped on behind. Inside the automobile there were four
foot warmers. Bab and Ruth spurned theirs. With many urgings on the part
of Mr. Stuart and Aunt Sallie to be careful, Ruth threw in the clutch,
advanced the spark and Mr. A. Bubble wheeled himself slowly away from
the house, out into the avenue, then launched into a burst of speed that
set at defiance all the regulations of the Windy City.
This was to be an eventful visit. It was to be one full of excitement
and adventure, a visit that none of the girls ever would be likely to
forget.
They rapidly rolled through the city and in a little while were out in
the country, where the land flattened down into a rolling prairie,
broken here and there by groups of slender trees and farm buildings.
The snow began to sweep past them in flurries shortly after they cleared
the city limits. Ruth stopped the automobile and called upon the girls
to assist her in putting on the storm curtains. When they had finished
the car was entirely enclosed, a heavy curtain taking the place of the
wind shield which the driver had turned down at its middle.
"Isn't this comfy?" chirped Mollie.
It did not prove so "comfy" after all, the way Ruth accelerated the
speed, sending the car careening ahead at a high rate.
"Olive," said Bab, mustering courage to introduce a subject that was
near to her heart.
"Yes, dear."
"Would you--would you think me too personal if I asked you to tell us
the story of the buried treasure of Treasureholme?" she asked
hesitatingly.
"Not at all."
"Oh, do tell us," urged Mollie and Grace in one voice.
"I've been just dying to hear about it ever since I first learned there
was such a place as Treasureholme. Are there real ghosts there?"
questioned Mollie.
"No; no ghosts. But there are memories. Listen, girls, and I will tell
you all I know about it," said Olive, settling herself to relate the
tale that was to prove of such fascinating interest to the "Automobile
Girls."