CHAPTER XVIAT 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 herchild 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 seeus 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 poorme 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 thePresident 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—possiblyyour 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 takingyoufor the heiress, and marrying you to some horrid titled foreigner!” teased Ruth, pinching Mollie’s pretty cheek.
Miss Stuart and her girls found the EnglishAmbassador 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 followyour 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 maytake 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,” declaredMiss 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 inPittsfield 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 protégée 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’scheeks 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 protégée. 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 supposehe 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.
CHAPTER XVIIA VISIT TO EUNICE
“O girls, I have had the most splendiferous time!” cried Bab, bounding into the hotel sitting room. She wore Ruth’s tan colored riding habit and a little brown derby. Her curls were drawn up in aknot at the back of her head. Her brown eyes were sparkling. She pranced into the room, as though she were still on horseback.
“Miss Sallie, I never knew what horseback riding could mean until to-day. Dorothy Morton has lent me a perfect dream of a horse. Its name is Beauty. It is black and slim and has a white star on its nose. My, don’t I wish it were mine! Well, Beauty and I took our hurdles to-day, at the Ambassador’s farm, as though we had been jumping together all our lives. See, here!” Barbara vaulted lightly over a low stool, and stood in the center of the room, brandishing her riding crop.
“Barbara Thurston!” Mollie exclaimed.
“Good gracious!” protested Bab. “I didn’t dream we had a visitor. I am so sorry! I have been practising for the hurdle jumping next week,” Bab ended tamely.
A stout man, with iron gray hair and a kindly expression, smiled at Barbara.
“Oh, don’t mind my presence,” he said. “I have a daughter of my own who is fond of horseback riding.”
“Barbara,” explained Miss Stuart, “this is Doctor Lewis. He has been good enough to come over from the hospital to tell us about Eunice.”
Barbara noticed that Ruth, Grace and Molliehad been listening to the doctor with absorbed attention.
“The Indian girl has asked for her friends several times in the last few days,” the doctor continued, “but she has not been well enough to be permitted to talk. The nurses tell me the child had been most patient. They are much attracted toward her. Now, I think it may do the little girl good to see you. Naki, your guide has explained to me the circumstances of your finding of the child. It is most remarkable. But I wonder if you are really interested in the girl, or whether you are being kind to her, now, only because of her accident?”
“Why do you ask me, doctor?” Miss Stuart inquired quietly.
“Because,” the doctor answered honestly, “I am much interested in the child myself. I would like to know that she has friends. The grandmother, stupid and ignorant though she is, seems devoted to the child. As for Eunice herself, she is an enigma. She is not in the least like the grandmother. The old Indian woman is probably of mixed white and Indian blood, but the child has less Indian blood. Eunice must have had a white mother or father. I have asked the child about her parents, but she knows absolutely nothing about them, and the Indian woman will not tell. She told me, verydecidedly, that it was not my business to inquire; that I was to make Eunice well after which she and her grandchild would go back to their wigwam and live in peace. But that beautiful little girl ought not to grow up in entire ignorance. She should be educated, and given an opportunity to develop.”
“I agree with you, doctor,” Miss Sallie rejoined, “but the case will present difficulties. The old grandmother is the child’s natural guardian. She will never be persuaded to give her up.”
“Doctor,” declared Ruth shyly, “if it were possible I should love to educate little Eunice. I could send her to school and do whatever is best for her. But I am afraid we have no right to do it for her.”
“Well, I cannot recommend kidnapping the child, Miss Ruth,” the doctor replied, “but, perhaps, you girls can persuade the old Indian to be less obstinate. Come and see my little charge when you can. She is quite well enough to see you. I shall not have to keep her at the hospital a great while longer. Her arm is still bandaged. She will soon be able to walk about.”
“Aunt Sallie,” Ruth asked, as soon as the doctor left, “may I have Eunice up at the hotel with us, as soon as she is well enough to leave the hospital?”
Miss Sallie demurred. “I must see the child again first, Ruth, dear. She can come here for the day, but not longer. She will be best with Naki and Ceally for a time. Now, Ruth, don’t be so impetuous. You must not plan impossible schemes. Remember, this Indian child is entirely uneducated. She does not know the first principles of good manners. But I am perfectly willing that you should do what seems best for her.”
“When shall we go to see Eunice?” Ruth asked, turning to the other three girls.
“Oh, let us go this afternoon, please, Ruth,” pleaded Mollie.
“But Mr. Latham has asked us to go driving with him,” Barbara objected.
“Mr. Latham has only asked Aunt Sallie and one of us, Bab,” Ruth rejoined. “Suppose you go with Aunt Sallie. Reginald Latham would rather have you along. And, to tell you the truth, Grace and Mollie and I would much rather go to see Eunice.”
Mollie and Grace both nodded.
“But I don’t want to be left out of the visit to Eunice, either,” Bab protested. “Never mind,” she went on, lowering her voice; “if Reginald Latham has any connection with Eunice, see if I don’t find it out this afternoon.”
“Never, Bab!” cried Grace.
“Well, just you wait and see!” ended Mistress Barbara.
“Mollie, you go into the room to see Eunice first,” said Ruth as they reached the hospital. “Grace and I will wait outside the door. You can call us when you think we may come in. Eunice may be frightened.”
But Ruth need not have feared.
As Mollie went into her room, Eunice was sitting up in bed. Her straight black hair was neatly combed and hung over her shoulders in two heavy braids. The child had on a fresh white night gown. Already she looked fairer from the short time spent indoors.
Eunice stretched out her slim brown hands to Mollie.
“My little fair one!” she cried rapturously.
“I feared never to see you again. My grandmother told me I must return to the wigwam as soon as I am well; but I do not want to leave this pretty bed. See how white and soft it is.”
Mollie kissed Eunice.
The child looked at her curiously. “Why do you do such a strange thing to me?” asked Eunice.
Mollie was amazed. “Don’t you know what a kiss is, Eunice? I kissed you because I am fond of you.”
Eunice laughed gleefully. “Indians do not kiss,” she declared. “But I like it.”
“Shall I ask the other girls to come in?” Mollie inquired. “My two friends, Ruth and Grace, are waiting in the hall. They wish to see you.”
Eunice nodded. “I like to see you while grandmother is away,” she confided. “Grandmother says it is not wise for me to talk so much. But it is hard to be all the time so silent as the Indians are. Some days I have talked to the wild things in the woods.”
Ruth dropped a bunch of red roses on Eunice’s bed.
The child clutched them eagerly. “It is the red color that I love!” she cried in delight.
“Eunice,” Ruth asked, “do you remember your father and mother?”
Eunice shook her head. “I remember no one,” she replied. “Long ago, there was an old Indian man. He made canoes for me out of birch bark. He was my grandmother’s man—husband, I think you call him in your language.”
The three “Automobile Girls” were disappointed. Eunice could remember no associations but Indian ones. There was nothing to prove that Eunice was not an Indian except the child’s appearance.
Mollie decided to make another venture.
“Eunice,” she asked, “do you still wear thegold chain around your neck? I saw it the day you were hurt. It is so pretty I should like you to show it to my friends.”
The Indian girl looked frightened. “You will not tell my grandmother?” she pleaded. “She would be very angry if she knew I wore it. I found the pretty chain, one day, among some other gold things in an old box in the wigwam.” Why! Eunice pointed in sudden excitement to the watch Ruth wore fastened on the outside of her blouse—“there was a round shiny thing like that in the box. The other golden ornaments are at the wigwam. Only this chain is Indian. So there seemed no wrong in my wearing it.”
Eunice slipped her chain from under her gown. Ruth and Grace examined it closely.
“Eunice,” Grace exclaimed, “there are two English letters engraved on the pendant of your chain. They are E. L., I am pretty sure.”
“The same letters are on all the gold things,” Eunice declared.
“Well, E. stands for Eunice plainly enough,” volunteered Ruth, “but I can’t guess what the L. means.”
Mollie said nothing.
“You know, Ruth,” protested Grace, “the initials may not be Eunice’s. The child only foundthe chain at the wigwam. There is no telling where the jewelry she speaks of came from.”
“Oh!” Ruth cried, in a disappointed tone, “I never thought of that!”
“Eunice, we must go now,” announced Ruth, “but I want you to promise me not to go back to the wigwam with your grandmother until you have first seen me. Tell your grandmother I wish to talk with her. I want you to come to see where I live.”
Eunice shook her head. “I should be afraid,” she replied simply.
“But you are not afraid with me, Eunice,” Mollie said. “If you will promise to come to see us, when you are better, you shall stay right by me all the time. Will you promise?”
“I promise,” agreed the child.
“Naki is to let me hear as soon as you are well enough to leave the hospital,” said Ruth.
“O Ruth,” whispered Mollie. “Eunice will have no clothes to wear up at the hotel, even to spend the day. Shall I send her a dress of mine?”
“Eunice,” Ruth asked, “do you know what a present is?”
“No,” was the reply.
“Well, a present is something that comes in a box, and is soft and warm this time,” Ruth explained. “Eunice must wear the presentwhen she is ready to leave the hospital. When you are well enough to come to see us, I am coming to the hospital for you. I am going to take you flying to the hotel where we are staying, on the back of a big red bird.”
“You make fun,” said the Indian solemnly.
“You just wait until you see my motor car, Eunice!” cried Ruth. “It is the biggest bird, and it flies as fast as any you have ever seen. So do please hurry up and get well.”
“I will, now. I did not wish to get well before,” Eunice replied. “It is cold and lonely up on the hill in the snow time.”
CHAPTER XVIIIPLANS FOR THE SOCIETY CIRCUS
“Ralph and Hugh! I am so delighted to see you!” cried Mollie Thurston, a few days later. She was alone in their sitting room writing a letter, when the two friends arrived. “We girls have been dreadfully afraid you would not arrive in time for our Society Circus. You know the games take place to-morrow.”
“Oh, it is a ‘Society Circus’ we have come to! So that is the name Lenox has given to its latest form of social entertainment?” laughedHugh. “Sorry we couldn’t get here sooner, Mollie; but you knew you could depend on our turning up at the appointed time. Where are the other girls and Aunt Sallie?”
“They are over at the Fair Grounds, watching Bab ride,” Mollie explained. “Ralph, I am awfully worried about Bab. One of the amusements of the circus is to be a riding contest. Of course, Bab rides very well, but I don’t think mother would approve of her undertaking such dangerous riding as jumping over hurdles. Ambassador Morton has told Aunt Sallie that there will be no danger. He is used to English girls riding across the country; and I know, at the riding schools in New York, they give these same contests; but we have never had any riding lessons. I can’t help being nervous.”
“I wouldn’t worry, Mollie,” Ralph replied kindly. “I am sure Bab is equal to any kind of horseback exercise. Remember the first time we saw her, Hugh? She was riding down the road in the rain, astride an old bareback horse. We nicknamed her ‘Miss Paul Revere’ then and there. There isn’t any use trying to keep Bab off a horse, Mollie, when she has the faintest chance to get on one.”
“Come on, then,” laughed Mollie, smiling at the picture Ralph’s remark had brought to her mind. “We will walk over to the Fair Grounds.You will find nearly everybody we know in Lenox over there. You remember that you boys gave Ruth and Bab liberty to put your names down for any of the games; come and find out what trouble they have gotten you into. You never dreamed of such absurd amusements as we are to have.”
“Oh, we are game for anything,” Hugh declared. “Lenox sports are the jolliest I have yet run across. Don’t think any other place can produce anything just like them. Certainly the amusements are a bit unconventional, but they are all the more fun. ‘Society Circus’ is a good name for the entertainment. Anything goes in a ‘Society Circus.’”
“What curious amusements peopledohave for the benefit of charities!” reflected Mollie. “But I expect the Lenox Hospital will receive a great deal of money from the sports this year. You see, they are in charge of the English Ambassador. That alone would make the entertainment popular.”
“Is Mollie growing worldly wise, Hugh?” asked Ralph, with mock horror.
“Looks like it, Ralph,” was the reply.
The boys and Mollie found Barbara in the midst of a gay circle of young people. Grace and Ruth were nowhere to be seen.
Aunt Sallie sat with Mrs. Morton in the grandstand.The Ambassador and Mr. Winthrop Latham wandered about near them. Many preparations were necessary for the next day’s frolic.
In front of the grandstand stretched a wide, green field, enclosed with a low fence. A little distance off stood the club house.
Bab came forward with both hands extended to greet her friends. She gave one hand to Ralph, the other to Hugh.
“I am so glad to see you!” she declared. “I can’t wait to shake your hands in the right way. We girls were so afraid you had turned ‘quitters’! Come, this minute, and see Aunt Sallie. You must be introduced, too, to Ambassador and Mrs. Morton.”
“But where are Ruth and Grace?” inquired Ralph.
“Over yonder,” laughed Bab, pointing to the green inclosure in front of them.
The boys spied Ruth and Grace some distance off. The two girls were deep in conversation with a farm boy. Strutting around near them were a fat turkey gobbler and a Plymouth Rock rooster.
Just at this moment Ruth was giving her instructions. “Be sure you bring the turkey and the rooster over to the Fair Grounds by ten o’clock to-morrow morning.”
The boy grinned. “I’ll have ’em here sure, Miss.”
“Ruth,” asked Grace, as the two girls started back across the meadow to join their friends, “do you suppose it will be unkind for us to try to drive these poor barnyard fowls across a field before so many people? I presume the poor old birds will be frightened stiff. Whoever heard of anything so utterly absurd as a Gymkana race.”
“Oh, no, you tender-hearted Grace,” Ruth assured her. “I don’t think the kind of pets we are to drive to-morrow will be much affected by our efforts. Indeed they are likely to lead us more of a chase than we shall lead them. And I don’t believe the annoyance of being run across this field by us for a few yards equals the nervous shock of being scared by an automobile or a carriage. That alarm may overtake poor Brother Turkey and Mr. Rooster any day. I think our race is going to be the greatest fun ever! Why! I think I see Ralph Ewing and Hugh over there with the girls. Isn’t that great?”
“Miss Morton!” Hugh was protesting gayly, as Grace and Ruth joined the crowd of their friends. “You don’t mean to say that Barbara and Ruth have put Ralph’s name and mine down for three of your performances? Howshall we ever live through such a tremendous strain! Kindly explain to me what is expected of us.”
Dorothy Morton got out her blankbook, where she had written each item of the next day’s programme. “Well, Mr. Post, you and Mr. Ewing are down for three of our best events, ‘The Egg and Spoon Race,’ ‘The Dummy Race’ and ‘The Thread and Needle Race.’”
“All right,” declared Ralph, meekly accepting his fate, “but will you kindly tell me what a Thread and Needle Race is?”
“It is a very easy task, Ralph, compared with what Grace and I have undertaken,” Ruth assured him. “All you do, in the ‘Thread and Needle Race,’ is to ride across this field on horseback carrying a needle. Of course, the real burden is on the woman. It always is. Some fair one is waiting for you at the end of your ride; she must sew a button on your coat. The sooner she can accomplish this, the better; for back you must ride, again, to the starting place, with the button firmly attached to your coat.”
“Will you sew the button on for me, Mollie?” Ralph begged. He saw that Mollie was taking less part in the amusements than the other girls.
“Certainly!” agreed Mollie. “I accept your proffered honor. To tell you the truth, you stand a better chance of winning with my assistance. I am a much better seamstress than Bab.”
“Oh, Bab, will be busy winning the riding prize,” declared Ralph under his breath, smiling at his two friends, Mollie and Barbara.
Maud Warren, the New York girl famous for her skillful riding, was standing near them, talking with Reginald Latham. As she overheard Ralph’s remark, a sarcastic smile flitted across her pale face. She had ignored Bab since their introduction at the Ambassador’s; but the thought of this poor country girl’s really knowing how to ride horseback was too much for her.
Barbara caught Maud Warren’s look of amusement and blushed furiously. Then she turned to Ralph and said aloud, “Oh, I am not a rider when compared with Miss Warren.”
“I don’t believe in comparisons, Miss Thurston,” declared the Ambassador, who had walked up to them. “But I think you are an excellent horsewoman. And I much prefer your riding in the old-fashioned way with a side saddle. I have observed that it is now fashionable, in Lenox, for the young women to ride astride.”
“Girls,” Miss Stuart declared, “it is luncheon time. We must return to the hotel.”
“Now, does everybody understand about to-morrow?” asked Gwendolin Morton, when the last farewells had been said. “Remember, the Gymkana race is first. We started with this spectacle for fear the girls who have promised to take part might back out. Then, immediately after lunch, we shall have our horseback riding and jumping.”
“I don’t believe I have been wise in permitting you to engage in this horseback riding, Barbara,” Miss Stuart declared on their way home. “I am afraid this jumping over fences is a dangerous sport. And I am not sure it is ladylike.”
“But English girls do it all the time, Aunt Sallie. Jumping hurdles is taught in the best riding schools.”
“You have had no lessons, Bab. Are you perfectly sure you do not feel afraid?” queried Miss Stuart.
“Oh, perfectly, dear Aunt Sallie,” Bab assured her.
CHAPTER XIXTHE OLD GRAY GOOSE
The day for the Lenox sports dawned clear and beautiful. By breakfast time the mists had rolled away from the hilltops. The trees, which were now beginning to show bare places among their leafy branches, beheld their own reflections in the lakes that nestled at the feet of the Lenox hills.
From their veranda Miss Stuart and her girls could see every style of handsome vehicle gliding along the perfect roads that led toward the Fair Grounds from the beautiful homes surrounding the old township.
The Society Circus could be enjoyed only by invitation. The tickets had been sent out only to the chosen. An invitation meant the payment of five dollars to the Hospital Fund.
Barbara was the first of the girls to be ready to start to the Fair Grounds. She wore the tan riding-habit that Ruth had loaned her. She was not to ride until later in the day, but it would not be feasible to return to the hotel to change her costume.
Miss Stuart and her party had been asked tobe the guests at luncheon of Ambassador and Mrs. Morton.
Ruth and Grace were dressed in short skirts, loose blouses, and coats. They, also, looked ready for business. So only Miss Stuart and Mollie were able to wear the handsome toilets suited to the occasion. Mollie appeared in her blue silk costume. Miss Sallie was resplendent in a pearl gray broadcloth and a hat of violet orchids.
At half-past nine, Hugh Post and Ralph Ewing knocked at Miss Stuart’s sitting-room door. Barbara had already seen Ruth’s and Hugh’s automobiles waiting for them on the hotel driveway. The boys were impatient to be off.
“Kindly explain to me, Ruth,” asked Hugh, as the party finally started, “why you are carrying those two large bolts of ribbon? Are you going into the millinery business to-day?”
Ruth laughed. “Remember, if you please, that Grace and I are going in for a much more serious undertaking. These ribbons are the reins that we intend to use for our extraordinary race to-day. I shall endeavor to drive my turkey with blue strings. Grace considers red ribbon more adapted to the disposition and appearance of a rooster.”
“Well, you girls certainly have nerve to takepart in such a wild goose chase!” laughed the boy.
At the Fair Grounds Miss Stuart had reserved seats for her party near the green inclosure. Just in front of them was a little platform, decorated in red, white and blue bunting. On this were seated the Ambassador, Franz Heller, Mr. Winthrop Latham, Reginald and several other prominent Lenox residents.
Grace and Ruth were not allowed to remain with their friends; they were immediately hurried off to the clubhouse, where they found eight other girls waiting for them. The entrance of the ten girls, driving their extraordinary steeds, was to be the great opening event of the Society Circus.
At ten-thirty Mr. Winthrop Latham announced the first feature of their entertainment.
A peal of laughter burst from hundreds of throats.
Marching from the clubhouse were ten pretty girls, “shooing” in front of them ten varieties of barnyard fowls!
Dorothy Morton walked along in a stately fashion, led by an old gray goose. Neither Miss Morton nor the goose seemed in the least degree disturbed by the applause and laughter.
Ruth’s turkey was not so amiable. It stopped several times in its promenade fromthe clubhouse, to crane its long neck back at the driver. The turkey’s small eyes surveyed the scene about it with a look of mingled suspicion and indignation. The old rooster, which regarded the occasion as given in its honor, traveled in front of Grace at a lively pace.
Within the inclosed field, just in front of the little stand, where the Ambassador and his friends sat, two poles had been placed ten yards apart. Across the meadow, about an eighth of a mile, were two other poles of the same kind.
The girls were to try to persuade their curious steeds to run across the field from the first posts to those opposite. There the drivers were expected to turn their steeds and come safely back to the starting place.
Of the ten entrances Grace and her rooster made the best start. Ruth’s turkey refused to stir; he had found a fat worm on the ground in front of him. His attention was riveted to that. Ruth flapped her blue silk reins in vain.
But a peacock bore the turkey company. Seeing himself and his barnyard acquaintances the center of so many eyes, Mr. Peacock was properly vain. He spread his beautiful fan-shaped tail, and would not be driven from the starting-place.
Dorothy Morton and her old gray goose continued their stately walk across the meadow.Only once did the goose’s dignity forsake it. Grace’s excitable rooster crossed its path! The rooster had made a short scurry to the side, his driver trying to persuade him back to the straight path. As the rooster hurried past the old gray goose, the latter stopped short, gave an indignant flap of its wings, rose a few inches from the ground, and pecked at Mr. Rooster. A moment later the goose continued its dignified march.
This incident was too much for Grace’s irascible rooster. With a terrified crow he darted first this way, then that, until Grace was wound up in her own red silk reins. It seemed a hopeless task to try to reach the goal.
It was another instance of the old story of the hare and the tortoise. While Grace struggled with her rooster, a fat duck waddled past her. The duck’s mistress had enticed her nearly the whole length of the journey by throwing grains of corn a yard or so ahead of her steed. Of course, any well disposed duck would move forward for refreshments.
Dorothy Morton arrived safely at the first goal with her old gray goose. But now her troubles really began. Her steed had no disposition to return to the crowd of noisy spectators that it had so cheerfully left behind. Dorothy tugged at one of her heavy white reins.The goose continued placidly on its way across the broad field. A goose is not a pleasant bird in attack, and Dorothy did not like to resort to forcible methods.
Assistance came from an unexpected quarter. Grace’s rooster had at last been persuaded to rush violently between the required posts. In one of its excited turns, it brushed close behind the old goose. Here was a chance for revenge! The rooster gave a flying peck at the goose’s tail feathers and flew on.
With a loud squawk the goose turned completely around. It flew up in the air, then down to the ground again, and made a rush for its opponent. But the rooster was unworthy game. It tacked too often to the right and left. The old gray goose gave up its pursuit in disgust. Since it was headed toward the starting-place it took up its walk again, Dorothy Morton meekly following it.
Only three of the girls remained in the race. Ruth had given up in despair. Her turkey had wandered off to parts unknown. Another girl sat on an upturned stump feeding crumbs to a motherly hen that had found walking disagreeable and had taken to scratching around the roots of a tree.
Dorothy passed her rival with the duck midway on her journey back home. The ducktook no further interest in corn. It had eaten all that a well-bred fowl could desire. Now it squatted in the grass to enjoy a well-earned repose.
Shrieks of laughter rose when Dorothy Morton at last drove her gray goose back to the judge’s stand.
“Hurrah for the old gray goose!” shouted the spectators in merry applause.
Franz Heller rushed down from the platform, carrying two wreaths in his hands. One was made of smilax and pink roses; the other a small wreath of evergreens with a silver bell fastened to it. Franz dropped the rose garland over Dorothy Morton’s head. The small wreath with the bell he placed on the neck of the old gray goose.
Exhausted, Dorothy dropped into the nearest seat. The old gray goose wandered off toward home, led by a proud farmer’s boy.
Scarcely had the laughter from the first event ceased, when the Thread and Needle Race was called for.
Ralph Ewing was an easy winner, thanks to Mollie’s skill as a seamstress. Ralph declared the button she sewed on him should ornament his coat for evermore.
But the Egg and Spoon Race was a closely contested event.
The race appeared to be a tie between Ambassador Morton and Mr. Winthrop Latham.
Near-sighted Franz Heller made a brave start, but his eyes betrayed him. Carefully carrying his egg in a spoon which he bore at arm’s length, Franz forgot to look down at his feet. He stumped his toe against a small stone. Crash, the egg rolled from his spoon! A yellow stream marked the place where it fell.
Mr. Latham and the Ambassador were painstaking men. They ran along, side by side, at a gentle pace. The man who arrived first at the appointed goal with an unbroken egg was, of course, the victor.
Unfortunately for Mr. Latham, an old habit overcame him. In the midst of the contest he paused to adjust his glasses. The movement of his arm was fatal. His spoon tipped and his egg rolled gently to the earth.
Still the Ambassador continued unmoved on his stately journey. With a smile he solemnly handed an unbroken white egg to Reginald Latham.
“Here, cook this for your breakfast!” he advised Reginald, who was acting as judge of this famous event.
Cutting a lemon with a saber, and the Dummy Race, ended the morning’s sports. The afternoon was to be devoted to riding.