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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d242689 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #68240 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68240) diff --git a/old/68240-0.txt b/old/68240-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index db350d6..0000000 --- a/old/68240-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7635 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Betty Wales, B. A., by Margaret Warde - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Betty Wales, B. A. - A story for girls - -Author: Margaret Warde - -Illustrator: Eva M. Nagel - -Release Date: June 4, 2022 [eBook #68240] - -Language: English - -Produced by: D A Alexander and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team - at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images - generously made available by University of California - libraries) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BETTY WALES, B. A. *** - - -[Illustration: “NOW COME AND LABEL HER DRESSES”] - - - - - BETTY WALES, B. A. - - _A STORY FOR GIRLS_ - - _BY_ MARGARET - WARDE - - _Author of_ - “Betty Wales, Freshman” - “Betty Wales, Sophomore” - “Betty Wales, Junior” - “Betty Wales, Senior” - - - _Illustrated by_ - EVA M. NAGEL - - _The Penn Publishing Company_ - - PHILADELPHIA MCMVIII - - - - - COPYRIGHT - 1908 BY - THE PENN - PUBLISHING - COMPANY - - - - -Introduction - - -WHEN I first knew Betty Wales she was a freshman at Harding -College, with a sedate, comical roommate named Helen Chase Adams, and -a host of good friends, who stood by her and one another all through -the four years of their college course. Mary Brooks--afterward Mrs. -Hinsdale--was a sophomore when Betty entered college, but the others, -the three B’s, Roberta Lewis, Eleanor Watson, Rachel Morrison, and -Katherine Kittredge,--all belonged to the “finest class” of 19--. So -did Madeline Ayres, though she was a year late in joining it and felt -obliged to make up for lost time by being a particularly lively and -loyal Hardingite during her abbreviated course there. Georgia Ames -first appeared in 19--’s junior year, and joined “The Merry Hearts,” -a society that Betty and her friends had organized. But Georgia the -first, as Madeline used to call her, was only a figment of Madeline’s -imagination; it was a delightful coincidence when, at the end of the -year, a real Georgia Ames appeared to step into the place left vacant -by her departed namesake, whose short but strenuous career at Harding -had made them both famous. - -All these things and many others may be found in the four books -entitled respectively “Betty Wales, Freshman,” “Betty Wales, -Sophomore,” “Betty Wales, Junior,” and “Betty Wales, Senior.” This -story was written because some of Betty’s friends were not satisfied to -leave her at the end of her senior year, but wished to hear what she -did next. If any of them still want to know what happened to her after -she came back from her trip abroad, why, perhaps some day they may. - - MARGARET WARDE. - - - - -Contents - - - I. AN IMPROMPTU WEDDING--AND OTHER - IMPROMPTUS 9 - II. A GOING-AWAY PARTY--HARDING - STYLE 27 - III. OFF TO BONNIE SCOTLAND 44 - IV. A DISILLUSIONMENT MADE GOOD 66 - V. A RUIN AND A REUNION 88 - VI. SCOTCH MISTS 110 - VII. THE GHOST OF DUNSTAFFNAGE 129 - VIII. BETTY DISCOVERS HER SPECIALTY 146 - IX. BUYING A DUKE 166 - X. THE GAY GHOSTS OF LONDON 185 - XI. BETTY WALES, DETECTIVE 204 - XII. JASPER J. MORTON AGAIN 221 - XIII. A “NEAR-ADVENTURE” 236 - XIV. A REAL ADVENTURE 258 - XV. A NOISY PARISIAN GHOST 273 - XVI. THE PROGRESS OF ROMANCE 293 - XVII. TELLING THE MAGNATE 311 - XVIII. HOME AGAIN 329 - - - - -Illustrations - - - PAGE - - “NOW COME AND LABEL HER DRESSES” _Frontispiece_ - “IT’S ONLY FOR HER I’M CARIN’” 57 - “COME UP, ALL OF YOU” 104 - “FOUR AND SIX!” 179 - “I HAVE MY DICTIONARY” 228 - THE GIRLS POUNCED UPON HER 284 - SOMETHING HAD HAPPENED IN THE SECOND - BOAT 322 - -Betty Wales, B. A. - - - - -CHAPTER I - -AN IMPROMPTU WEDDING--AND OTHER IMPROMPTUS - - -“WELL,” announced Betty Wales to the family breakfast table, -a week after 19--’s commencement, “I’m beginning to feel quite at home -again. I’ve got my room fixed----” - -“So it looks as much like a Harding room as you can make it,” laughed -Nan. - -“And you spend most of your time describing the lost glories of Harding -to anybody who will listen,” added Will. - -“And the rest in writing long letters to the other ‘Merry Hearts,’” put -in mother slyly. - -“And she plans what I’ll do when I go to college,” declared the -Smallest Sister, who had just had her first “teens birthday” and did -not propose to be excluded from any family council. - -“In short,” said Mr. Wales, appearing solemnly from behind the morning -paper, “being ‘quite at home’ means wishing you were back at college. -Is that about the size of it, Miss Betty Wales?” - -“Never, daddy,” cried Betty, leaning across the corner of the table to -give him a hug. “I’m just as glad as I can be to be really and truly at -home again with my family. Of course I shall miss the girls dreadfully, -but--oh, there the postman’s ring! I wonder if he’s got anything for -me.” And Betty danced off to the door, answering Nan’s and Will’s -chorused “I told you so!” with a laughing “I don’t care.” As Will had -once said, “The nicest thing about Betty is that she can’t possibly be -teased.” - -She was back in a minute with a handful of letters for the family and -four for herself. - -“All from late lamented Hardingites?” inquired Will, who never wrote -letters and therefore seldom got any to read over his morning coffee. - -Betty was tearing open the second envelope. “That one isn’t. It’s -just congratulations on graduating, from Aunt Maria. But this is from -Madeline Ayres--why, how funny! It’s dated Monday, in New York, and -she was going to sail last Saturday. Oh, dear, I don’t understand at -all! She says”--Betty frowned despairingly over Madeline’s dainty, -unreadable hieroglyphics--“she says, ‘You have heard all about it by -this time, I suppose, and isn’t it just--just----’ Oh, I wish Madeline -could write plainly.” - -“Too bad about these college graduates who can neither read nor write,” -said Will loftily. “Try the next one. Perhaps they’ll explain each -other. Isn’t that scrawly one in the blue envelope from Katherine -Kittredge?” - -Betty nodded absently and tore open the blue envelope. “Why how funny!” -she cried. “K. begins just the very same way. ‘Of course you’ve -heard about it by this time, and isn’t it the nicest ever? Are you -and Roberta going to wear your commencement dresses too? Wasn’t it -exciting the way they caught Madeline on the wharf? By the way, both -the straps of my telescope broke on the way home, and so I’ve bought -a gorgeous leather bag to carry on this trip, without waiting for my -first salary. Dick lent me the money--you know he’s been working this -winter, so that I could stay at Harding, and they never told me a word -about it. We’re planning for his college course now, father and I, and -I couldn’t have gone a step to the wedding if dear old Mary hadn’t sent -the ticket.’ Gracious!” interpolated Betty excitedly, “what is she -talking about? Dick’s her brother. That hasn’t anything to do with the -rest of the letter.” She glanced at the last envelope. “Oh, this is -from Mary Brooks. I hope it won’t be puzzle number three.” - -It wasn’t. Betty read it all through to herself--four closely written -pages--while the Wales family, who had all become interested by this -time, watched her cheeks growing pinker and her eyes brighter and -bigger with excitement, as she read. At the end she gave a rapturous -little sigh. “Oh, it’s just perfectly lovely!” she declared. - -“What?” demanded Will. - -“Oh, everything,” answered Betty vaguely. “Mary’s going to be married a -week from to-day, and we’re all coming,--every single one of us. She -caught Madeline before she went abroad, and Eleanor before she left for -Denver, and she’s sent tickets to K. and Rachel and Helen, instead of -giving us all bridesmaids’ presents. Oh, father dear, may I go?” - -Mr. Wales smiled into his daughter’s flushed, happy face. “Betty,” he -said, “your enthusiasm is delightful. We shall miss it while you are -gone, but if Mary--whoever she may be--is going to be married and can’t -have it done properly without you, why we shall have to drift along for -another week in our accustomed state of staid and placid calm.” - -And Betty was so excited and so busy explaining to her father which one -of all the girls he met at Harding was Mary Brooks, and which one of -the faculty was Dr. Hinsdale, that she never noticed the letter from -Babbie Hildreth, in her father’s mail, or the dainty, scented note, -also postmarked Pelham Manor, which her mother read and covertly passed -to Nan and then to Mr. Wales. And after breakfast she flew straight -up-stairs to answer her letters, never dreaming that the long talk -father and mother and Nan were having on the piazza just underneath -her windows was all about her--Betty Wales--and the reasons why she -should or should not go on the most glorious summer trip that a girl -ever took. - -“Well, I’ll see,” father called back from the gate, as he hurried off -to his office at last, and Betty smiled to herself and wondered whether -Nan wanted a set of new books or the Smallest Sister a bicycle. “Father -always says that when he thinks you’re getting pretty extravagant in -your tastes, but still he’s going to let you have it all the same,” -reflected Betty, and started for the third time to reread Mary’s letter. - - “Dearest Betty,” it began, “I’ve left you till the last to write to - because you aren’t going to the ends of the earth within the week, - and you don’t take ages to make up your mind to things. In short, my - child, I know that this impromptu wedding idea will appeal to you and - that you will keep your promise to help Roberta do the bridesmaid act - just as nicely as if I’d told you six weeks ahead instead of one, and - then sent you a neatly engraved invitation at the proper hour and - minute. We want to be married next Thursday at three, because--oh, - dear, here comes George Garrison Hinsdale this minute, and I promised - to be ready to take him to call on my minister. I’ll tell you why we - changed our minds when I see you. You and Roberta and Laurie are to - stay with me, and the others are invited to Tilly Root’s, just across - the street. There’s a dinner Wednesday night, before the rehearsal. - Oh, about clothes,--just wear your graduating dress or anything else - that you and Roberta agree upon. Let me know your train. Oh, and you - won’t draw a present, because I wanted all the girls to come, so I - sent tickets to K. and Rachel and Helen. I hope they won’t feel hurt, - and that you won’t mind not having diamond sunbursts to remember - the occasion by. You see I couldn’t give diamond sunbursts to some - and railroad tickets to others. It would have spoiled the scheme of - decoration. - - “I wanted to tell you how I caught Madeline’s coat-tails just as she - was going on board her boat, but George Garrison Hinsdale refuses - to wait another second. I foresee that I have drawn a tyrannical - husband. And the moral of that is,--I’m too happy to care. - - “Yours ever, - “MARY.” - -Before she wrote to Mary, Betty puzzled out most of Madeline’s letter, -which gave an amusing account of her sudden change of plans. “Eleanor -came to see me off,” she wrote, “and Dick Blake was there with his arms -full of flowers for me and his eyes fastened tight to Eleanor, and all -the good Bohemians were saying fond farewells and sending messages to -daddy and telling when they’d probably turn up in Sorrento, when up -dashed Mary Brooks and her professor. And in five minutes Dick had sold -my cabin to a man he knew who had come down on the chance of getting -one and that boat had sailed without me and my flowers and my steamer -trunk and my ‘carry-all-and-more-too’; and my weeping chaperon that -I had not yet wasted time in hunting up is probably sending wireless -messages of condolence to my family this minute. But Dr. Hinsdale -cabled, and then Dick took the whole crowd to a roof-garden to cool -off, and after that he and I went down the Bowery giving away that -armful of roses to the smallest, raggedest children we could find. -So it was a very nice party, and of course I can go to Italy any -time. MAD.” - - * * * * * - -And this is how it happened that just two weeks after they had parted, -bravely trying not to show that they cared, “The Merry Hearts,”--or -at least the Chapin House division of them, with the B’s thrown in -for full measure,--met, one sultry July afternoon, on Mary’s big, -vine-shaded piazza and, chattering like magpies, drank inordinate -quantities of lemonade and iced tea and heard from the bride-to-be all -the whys and wherefores of her impromptu wedding. - -“Haven’t I told any of you why we changed?” asked Mary. “No, Babe, it -wasn’t because we hadn’t the strength of mind to wait till August. It -was because my Uncle Marcellus gave us a desert island up on the Maine -Coast for a wedding present. Roberta, pass the cookies to yourself, -please.” - -“Query,” propounded K. gaily. “When given a desert island for a -wedding present is it obligatory to take possession instantly or -forever after keep away?” - -“Don’t be foolish,” said Mary severely. “It was this way, don’t you -see. The island has a gorgeous camp on it, and of course we want to go -there for our honeymoon, and why shouldn’t we start early and stay all -summer? If we had waited until the middle of August, as we planned, -that desert island would have gone to waste for one whole month.” - -“Which would ill become the desert island of a psychology professor,” -declared Madeline. “Who says that the college girl doesn’t bring -intellect to bear on the practical affairs of life?” - -“Hear, hear!” cried Bob, waving her lemonade glass. “Here’s to the -college bride, who lets no desert island waste its sweetness on the -empty air! Here’s to the impromptu wedding! Here’s to the first ‘Merry -Heart’ reunion! Here’s----” - -“Hush, Bob,” Babbie protested. “You’re disgracing the bridal party in -the eyes of the neighborhood. Take us up to see the trousseau, Mary, -please.” - -“I’ll bet there’s nothing very impromptu about that,” declared Babe. - -“Oh, girls, I hope you’ll like it,” began Mary anxiously, leading -the way indoors. “I’ve positively worn myself out trying to have it -right--right for a Harding professor’s wife, I mean.” - -“Picture Mary looking twenty in pink chiffon, being a patroness at the -junior prom,” cried K., picking up the small bride and standing her in -a piazza chair. - -“Picture Mary behind an armful of violets, sitting on the stage at the -big game, trying to remember that she’s Mrs. Professor Hinsdale and -mustn’t shriek for the purple,” added Rachel. - -“Picture Mary in a velvet suit and a picture hat, making her first -calls on the faculty,” jeered Bob. - -“When she’s fairly pining to go snow-shoeing with her little friends in -the senior class,” added Babe convincingly. - -“Stop teasing her,” commanded Betty, helping Mary down from her lofty -perch. “She’ll be the nicest professor’s wife that ever was--see if she -isn’t! Now come and label her dresses for the proper occasions.” - -It was most absorbing--deciding what Mary should wear to faculty -parties, to college lectures, to the president’s dinners--“Just to -think of being invited to dinner at Prexie’s!” said little Helen Adams -in awed tones--“to house plays, to senior dramatics, and to all the -other important functions of the college year.” It took a long time, -too, because of course such delicate questions couldn’t be decided -without seeing Mary in each dress, and getting “the exact combination -of youth, beauty, and dignity that resulted,” as K., who explained that -she was practising “school-ma’am English,” put it. - -And then there were so many digressions. It was only two weeks since -they had separated at Harding, but in the meanwhile a great deal seemed -to have happened. Helen had accepted a position to teach English in her -home high school. Eleanor was to join her family after the wedding for -a hastily planned trip through the Canadian Rockies. Most exciting of -all, Bob had actually established her fresh-air colony. - -“It’s great,” she declared. “When I asked father if I might have some -slum children out for two weeks he thought I was joking, so he said -yes, and when those six dirty little ragamuffins suddenly dawned upon -his vision last Saturday night he was furious. But I coaxed a little, -and I got him to give the boys a Fourth of July oration, and when -Jimmie Scheverin hopped up and solemnly thanked him for his unique and -inspiring address, he gave in. He’s staying at home now to look after -things while I’m gone. He said he guessed Wall Street could get along -without him.” - -“But if they’re only going to stay two weeks, Bob,” began Babe hastily, -“I don’t see why----” She stopped in sudden confusion. - -“Why what?” demanded Katherine curiously. - -“Oh, why I’ve talked such a lot about it, she means,” explained Bob -calmly. “When these leave there are others coming, Babe. There’s an -unlimited supply of fresh-air children,--millions of them. That’s why -we can’t keep Jimmie Scheverin more than two weeks, in spite of his -enthusiasm for father’s oratory and father’s enthusiasm for Jimmie. So -it’s no use trying to persuade me to go off on frivolous trips with -you.” - -“Where are you going, Babe?” asked Betty idly. - -“Oh, I don’t know that I’m going anywhere,” said Babe, with a conscious -little giggle. “Where are you?” - -Betty explained that they were going to have a cottage for a month or -two at some seaside place near New York--it hadn’t been decided when -she left home, but father was going to write her. This information the -B’s and Madeline received with solicitous and solemn interest. Indeed -they asked Betty so many questions, that Mary finally declared her -wedding was being shamefully neglected. - -“I don’t know about the wedding,” said Mrs. Brooks, appearing at that -minute, “but the groom is on the piazza, and six presents have come----” - -In the rush down-stairs that followed Babbie pulled Babe into a corner. -“You’ll let the cat out of the bag if you’re not more careful,” she -declared reproachfully. - -“I will be more careful,” Babe promised. “But why doesn’t her father -hurry up and decide? I shall burst if I can’t talk about it pretty -soon.” - -“The loveliest old brass samovar,” cried Eleanor. - -“From Miss Ferris!” added Betty. “That makes it all the nicer.” - -“And a silver dish from Prexie and Mrs. Prexie.” - -“That’s what you get for marrying a faculty.” - -“Isn’t it distinguished?” said Babbie, rushing after the others. “I -don’t see how you can think of anything else, Babe.” - -“Well, I don’t go abroad every summer the way you do,” explained Babe -breathlessly. “The most distinguished wedding that ever happened -couldn’t make me forget that I’m going to see Paris and London and all -the rest of Europe.” - -“Not quite all, I hope,” laughed Babbie, hurrying to shake hands with -Dr. Hinsdale and Marion Lawrence, who was going to be Mary’s maid of -honor. - -Everybody agreed that Mary’s impromptu wedding was a decided -improvement upon the usual cut-and-dried variety. There was certainly -nothing cut and dried about it. When the sun had gone below the tops -of the tall elm trees on the lawn and the shadows fell, long and -cool, on the velvety grass, Mary appeared on the piazza, wearing a -soft white dress--“that didn’t look a bit like a wedding,” as little -Helen Adams announced with her customary frankness. First she kissed -her mother and patted her father’s shoulder lovingly, just as she -did every morning before breakfast, and then she shook hands with -everybody else, as unconcernedly as if it was no day in particular and -all her dearest friends had merely happened to drop in for afternoon -tea. But all at once, before anybody except the people concerned had -noticed it, there was a cleared space in one corner, with a screen of -ferns and white sweet peas for a background. Laurie and Roberta and -Betty were close behind Mary, her father and Dr. Hinsdale were beside -her, the “near-bridesmaids” and “near-ushers,” as K. had flippantly -dubbed the rest of the bridal party, made a half circle around the -others, and Mary Brooks, with one great white rose in her hand and -a half-frightened, half-happy little smile on her lips, was being -married to George Garrison Hinsdale. - -When it was over, everybody went indoors and had all sorts of cooling -things to eat and drink. Meanwhile the bridesmaids, and “near-brides” -had slipped away to put on some Roumanian peasant costumes, and “the -next number on the program”--according to Katherine--was some curious -wedding dances that Roberta had learned and taught to the others. Some -were graceful and some were amusing, and the music was so gay that it -made everybody feel like dancing too. And that was what they did, by -the soft light of Japanese lanterns, until it was time to fill one’s -hands with confetti and old slippers and speed the wedding-pair on -their way to the desert island that would not be deserted any more that -summer. - -As the girls sat on the piazza talking it all over with Mrs. Brooks, -who declared she simply couldn’t realize that “little Mary” was old -enough to be getting married, Dr. Brooks came out, bringing a letter -for Betty. - -“Don’t ask me how long I’ve had it in my pocket, Miss Betty,” he said -with a twinkle in his eyes. “It beats everything how a wedding does -upset me.” - -“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” laughed Betty, “as long as you’ve remembered -it in time for me to know where I’m going to-morrow. It’s from father, -telling me which cottage they’ve taken. Will you excuse me if I read it -right now, Mrs. Brooks?” - -The next minute Betty gave a little shriek of delight, dropped her -letter, and seizing Babbie’s hands whirled her madly down the length of -the piazza. Finally she dropped breathlessly down on the broad railing, -pulling Babbie to a seat beside her. - -“Isn’t it just too elegant for anything!” she sighed. “And to think how -near Babe came to telling, and I never guessed a thing.” - - - - -CHAPTER II - -A GOING-AWAY PARTY--HARDING STYLE - - -FOR a while everybody who didn’t know what the excitement -was about asked questions at once, and everybody who did, which meant -the B’s and Madeline, answered at once,--a process resulting in that -delightful confusion that is the very nicest part about telling a -secret. Finally things quieted down a little, and Babbie was called -upon to “tell us all about it.” - -“Why, it’s just this way,” she explained. “Mother’s doctor ordered her -to Europe. She isn’t strong, you know, and the change is good for her. -But he said she mustn’t motor this time because it’s too wearing; but -must travel quietly, and rest a lot, and so on. Well, mother isn’t much -for quiet herself, so she was afraid I might be bored, just with her -and Marie, and no car to run while she takes naps. So she told me to -ask Bob and Babe to join us--this all came up after commencement, you -understand. And Babe would, but Bob wouldn’t, because of her fresh-air -kids; so then I asked Betty. Not that she’s second choice one bit,” -added Babbie hastily, “only of course the B’s----” - -“You needn’t apologize,” Betty interrupted her. “Of course the B’s ask -each other first! As for me, I’m too overjoyed to be going to think of -anything else.” - -“But I don’t see why you didn’t tell her that you’d asked her,” said -little Helen Adams, the practical minded. - -“Oh, that was mother’s idea,” Babbie went on. “She wanted you to -come, Betty, just as much as I did; but she said that she didn’t know -your father and mother, and she didn’t know how they would feel about -trusting their daughter for a whole summer to a perfect stranger. And -she thought it would be easier for them to refuse, for that or any -other reason, if you didn’t know. Oh, I’ve just been aching to have you -get that letter,” sighed Babbie rapturously. - -“But suppose it had said the wrong thing,” suggested Babe. - -“Then we could have talked about it all the same,” put in Madeline. -“I like the way you leave me out of all your explanations, Babbie -Hildreth.” - -“Well, I can’t think of everything at once,” Babbie defended herself. -“Besides, you just dropped in.” - -“Yes, I’m only the impromptu feature,” said Madeline sadly. “I always -am. As I have often explained before, I was born that way.” - -“But I thought you were in a terrible rush to get to Sorrento,” said -Rachel. - -“I was,” admitted Madeline. “But after all why should I be in a rush? -Why shouldn’t I go to Sorrento via some fun just as well as by any -other route? Sorrento will keep.” - -“Where is your party going, Babbie?” inquired Mrs. Brooks, who had been -much entertained by all the excitement. - -“Well, we’re going to sail to Glasgow, because we couldn’t get passage -to any other port on such short notice. And then the doctor thinks -mother ought to have some cool, bracing air to begin with. After that -we don’t know. Mother says that we girls may choose, and of course -Babe and I didn’t want to discuss it without Betty. And now Madeline -says that it’s more fun just deciding as you go along. Mother thought -it would be dull without a car,” Babbie went on eagerly, “but do you -know I think it’s going to be more exciting without one, because when -you have it you feel as if you ought to use it, and you have to keep -to good roads. I always thought that when James didn’t want to go to a -place, or Marie didn’t, James said the road was bad. Marie hates little -villages, and I just love them. And Madeline will think up all sorts of -queer, fascinating things to do.” - -“The principal feature, though impromptu,” murmured Madeline. “Are you -going away back home again for the week before we sail, Betty?” - -Betty shook her head. “Nan has packed the things she thinks I’ll want, -and I’m to join her at Shelter Island and help get the cottage ready -for the rest of the family. They’ll all be here in time to see me off.” - -“Why don’t you ask us all down there to spend the day?” suggested -Madeline. “Then perhaps our stay-at-home friends would take the hint -and give a going-away party for us.” - -“But we shan’t be here,” chorused Helen, Roberta, Rachel, Eleanor, and -Katherine. - -“And I couldn’t possibly come down for all day. Daddy won’t desert Wall -Street so soon again,” added Bob sadly. - -“It’s a shame not to have the party. We could think of lots of lovely -things to do,” sighed Roberta. - -“What’s the matter with doing them to-morrow?” proposed Dr. Brooks. -“You can’t leave Mrs. Brooks and me too suddenly, you know. We’ve got -to get used to missing Mary gradually. Now I’ll take you all to town in -the morning and give you lunch at my club. By the time we get back, the -house will be in order again and we’ll have that going-away party to -amuse us during the evening.” - -There was a little objection at first, for all the girls had expected -to leave the next day; but Dr. Brooks speedily overruled their -arguments. They had come to the wedding, he declared, and cheering -up the bereft parents was part of the ceremony--everybody knew that; -whereas one day at the other end of the trip wouldn’t matter at -all. So Babe nominated Bob and Roberta as committee on arrangements -for the going-away party and, according to “Merry Heart” procedure, -unceremoniously declared them elected, after which Dr. Brooks carried -them off to his study to make plans for the next day’s campaign. - -The going-away party was a distinctly collegiate function, marked by -all the originality and joyous abandon that belong by right to every -Harding festivity. Contrary to social precedent it began with toasts. -That was Eleanor’s fault, Bob explained. She had made a mistake and put -ice in the lemonade too soon, and so it had to be drunk immediately. So -Katherine grew eloquent on “the Sorrows of Parting for the Second Time -in Two Weeks, when you have exhausted all your pretty speeches on the -first round.” Bob described “Europe As I Shall Not See It,” and Babe -“Europe As I Hope to See It if not Prevented by the Frivolity of my -Friends.” Madeline was really witty in her account of “the Impromptu -Elements in Foreign Travel--myself, the English climate, and others.” -Rachel toasted “the Desert Island Honeymooners, absent but not -forgotten,” and Dr. Brooks explained “the Uses of Near-Bridesmaids,” to -the infinite amusement of his guests. After that Roberta said she was -sorry about there not being time for the other toasts, but they were -all written down on the program and if everybody would tell Babbie that -hers was too cute for anything and Eleanor that she could certainly -make the best speeches, they would pass on to the “stunts.” - -These consisted of examinations to test the fitness of the European -party for its trip. Betty was the first victim. She was required to -tie on a chiffon veil “so you will look too sweet for anything and all -the men on board the boat will be crazy about you,”--though Rachel -pointed out that it wasn’t much of a test, because Betty always looked -that way. Next Madeline was requested to prove that she knew how to be -seasick on the proper occasions. Babe, whose French accent had been -a college joke, was made to “parler-vous” an order for lunch, though -she protested hotly that Babbie and Madeline were going to do that -part--she had made her family promise solemnly that she shouldn’t be -bothered with learning anything ever any more, till she wanted to. And -Babbie, who had announced in one breath that she was going to travel -with just one little steamer trunk this time, and in the next that she -should buy four dresses at least in Paris, was invited to demonstrate -how she meant to carry the clothes she needed for the trip and the four -dresses all in “one little trunk.” - -“Not to mention the things you are going to bring home to us,” Bob -reminded her. - -“Oh, but I shall have Marie pack the dresses in one of mother’s -trunks,” Babbie explained easily. - -“Crawl!” declared K. “As a forfeit you are condemned to do ‘Mary had a -little lamb’ in your best style.” - -“And Roberta ought to do the jabber-wock for us,” suggested Eleanor. - -“And Madeline ought to sing a French song,” added Betty. - -So all the “Merry Heart” stunts, that had amused them at Harding for -four long years, and were just as funny now as they had ever been, were -merrily gone through with. - -“Ladies and gentlemen,” declaimed Bob at last, “we have at last arrived -at the real business of this farewell party, which is the presentation -of a few slight tokens of our affection, and the delicate intimation of -the objects of art----” - -“Or wearing apparel,” put in K. - -“That we should most like to get in return,” concluded Bob pompously, -with a withering glance in K.’s direction. “I may say in passing that -the aforesaid intimation is strictly by request.” - -The stay-at-homes and Dr. Brooks disappeared for a few minutes and came -back in a laughing, bundle-laden procession, with Dr. Brooks at its -head. - -“I heartily approve of your resolution to travel with as little -baggage as possible,” said the doctor solemnly, “so I’ve put up these -prescriptions for seasickness in as concentrated a form as possible.” -And he presented Betty and Babbie each with a half-gallon bottle, and -Babe and Madeline with huge wooden boxes marked “Pills.” A tag on -Babe’s read, “To be exchanged for fruit on day of sailing.” Madeline’s -tag said, “Good for the same size at Huyler’s,” while Betty’s -specified salted almonds, and Babbie’s preserved ginger. - -“I’ll see that the goods are delivered at your boat,” the doctor -assured them, “and if the ship’s physician doesn’t get some practice -out of you it certainly won’t be my fault.” - -“But you haven’t told us what you want us to bring you,” said Betty. - -“Yourselves safe and sound,” said Dr. Brooks gallantly. - -The girls were not so modest. Helen, who had stayed at home from the -city to print the travelers’ names in indelible ink on three dozen -laundry markers apiece, confessed shyly that she had always wanted a -good photograph of the Mona Lisa. - -“To think that you’re going to see the real one!” she said. “I’m going -to begin right away to save my money for a trip abroad.” - -“So am I,” echoed Rachel. - -“And I,” from K. - -European travel was evidently the “Merry Hearts’” latest enthusiasm. - -“In the meantime,” laughed Eleanor, “here are some baggage tags for the -ones who are really going. They say you have to mark all your bags and -trunks over there, because they don’t have checks, and you just have to -pick your things out of the big pile on the station platforms.” - -“What elegance,” cried Betty, holding her shining silver marker out at -arm’s length for inspection. “And what shall we bring you, Eleanor, -dear?” - -“A duke, if you don’t mind,” said Eleanor solemnly, and Betty solemnly -wrote it down on the slip of paper on which she was recording all the -girls’ wishes. - -Roberta gave them each a tiny book of travel sketches not too big to -slip into a shopping-bag--one was about English cathedrals, another -about English inns, and the third and fourth described some Scotch and -English castles. - -“They look rather interesting,” said Roberta modestly, “and I -remembered that none of you was specially fond of history.” - -“Don’t throw it in my face that I once got a low-grade,” Babe -reproached her. “Say over again the thing that you wanted, Roberta.” - -“A gargoyle,” repeated Roberta. - -Betty looked at her despairingly. “Please spell it, Roberta. I suppose -Babbie and Madeline know just what it is.” - -Babbie looked mystified. “Why should I know anything like that, Betty?” - -“Because you’ve been to Paris six separate times,” declared Madeline, -“and motored all through France besides. You evidently don’t go in hard -for architecture, Babbie.” - -“Oh, it’s architecture, is it?” said Babbie in relieved tones. “Then I -don’t see how we can bring it home.” - -“Only a picture of one,” Roberta expostulated. - -“It’s not exactly architecture, Babbie,” teased Madeline. “It’s an -animal, generally. Wouldn’t you like a real one better than a picture, -Roberta? They have them in the Rue Bonaparte for two francs each.” - -By this time everybody was excited on the subject of gargoyles and -ready to listen while Roberta explained that gargoyles are the -grotesque figures, usually in the shape of animals, that ornament -Gothic cathedrals, especially the French ones. - -“They’re waterspouts as well as ornaments,” protested Madeline. “Babbie -Hildreth, you don’t half know your Paris. Prepare to walk down to -Notre Dame in the rain with me and see the gargoyles work.” - -“They sound perfectly fascinating,” said Rachel. “Here’s a picture of -one in this book on architecture that I’ve brought for you. I believe -I’d rather have one than a pair of gloves. Is two francs a lot of -money, Madeline?” - -“If it isn’t, I want a gargoyle too,” declared K. “Is there more than -one kind?” - -“Enough kinds to suit all tastes,” laughed Madeline. “It will be great -fun picking out appropriate gargoyles for the three of you. What have -you in that bundle, K.?” - -K. tossed the fat parcel at the travelers, who found inside a pillow -covered with brown linen, with a 19-- banner fastened across it by way -of ornament. “I hope you won’t all feel like sleeping in your steamer -chairs at the same time,” she said. “I couldn’t afford but one pillow, -and I hadn’t time to make any more banners.” - -Bob’s gift was four little towels, just the right size to slip into a -traveling bag for use on trains or in railway stations, a fat little -pincushion with a bow to hang it up by on shipboard, and a little silk -bag fitted with needles, bodkins, thread, darning cotton, buttons, -hooks, a tiny pair of scissors, and everything else that one could need -in a mending outfit. - -“A cousin of mine gave it to me for a graduating present,” explained -Bob, when the bag had been duly admired, “but it makes me sort of tired -to look at it and think how many things it would mend, and as the -cousin is safe in California, and I knew Betty would take to it, I’m -passing it on.” - -“We shall all take to it, I guess, as often as our clothes come to -pieces,” declared Babe. “What shall we bring you, Bob?” - -“Oh, I don’t know--something queer and out-of-the-way, that I can put -on my dear old Harding desk or hang up on the wall above it. I don’t -mean a picture, but any queer old thing that you would know came from -abroad the minute you set eyes on it from afar.” - -“Won’t that be fun to hunt up,” murmured Betty ecstatically, adding -Bob’s choice to the others. “Now, Mrs. Brooks, what shall we bring you?” - -“Oh, I know what she’d rather have,” cried Babbie, leaning over to -whisper something in Betty’s ear and Betty laughed and wrote a few -words on her paper. “It’s something that we know you admire,” explained -Babbie, “because Mary had one nearly the same and you said you wished -you were a bride, so people would give you such things. But perhaps -you’d rather choose for yourself.” - -But Mrs. Brooks professed herself quite willing to abide by Babbie’s -choice. She had already told the girls that her going-away present to -them was to be flowers, so “the real business of the meeting,” as Bob -had expressed it, was now over; and as everybody was leaving early the -next morning, it seemed best to adjourn. - -There was nothing dismal about the good-byes next day. Bob was the -only one who would be at the steamer to wave the travelers a farewell, -but the rest promised to write steamer letters, and as Roberta said, -“something will turn up before long to bring us together again. Things -happen so fast in the wide, wide world.” - -“It doesn’t look as if a September reunion would amount to much,” said -K., “with three school-ma’ams and a foreign resident in the crowd.” - -“Somebody must get married,” announced Babe. “People can always manage -to come to weddings. You’re all going to be married sooner or later, -except me and Bob--we’re the man-haters’ union, you know--and you might -just as well be accommodating and hurry up about it.” - -“You’re going to bring me a duke from abroad,” Eleanor reminded her -laughingly. “If you pick out a nice one, I may decide to use him for a -husband.” - -“Of course we’ll pick out a nice one. Won’t it be fun assisting at the -nuptials of a duke, girls? Grander even than the wedding of a Harding -professor.” - -“I hereby prophesy that Babe’s wedding is next on the list,” cried K. -gaily. - -“Why, Katherine Kittredge,” retorted Babe indignantly, “haven’t I -always said----” - -“That’s the point,” K. interrupted her. “Professed man-haters always -marry young. There was Jane Westover and--there’s my train. Besides, -you owe it to the crowd to be accommodating and abandon man-hating in -the interests of matrimony and reunions.” - -“My wedding next on the list, indeed!” murmured Babe angrily, as she -waved her handkerchief at the departing train. “We’re going to be -bachelor maids, aren’t we, Bob? with saddle-horses and Scotch collies -instead of cats and canaries----” - -“And fresh-air children in the summers,” added Bob absently. “I wonder -what daddy’s doing to keep Jimmie Scheverin out of mischief. Here’s our -train to town, girls.” - - - - -CHAPTER III - -OFF TO BONNIE SCOTLAND - - -“I CAN’T believe yet that I’m really going!” Betty Wales -stood on the promenade deck of the Glasgow boat, her arms full of Mrs. -Brooks’s roses and Dr. Brooks’s salted almonds. Will’s arms were full -of flowers too, and the Smallest Sister felt very important indeed -because she had been entrusted with a fat package of steamer letters -from Betty’s Cleveland friends. - -“Beginning to feel a little homesick already?” teased Will. - -Betty winked hard, and mother told Will that he wasn’t playing fair, -and suggested that they should find the girls’ stateroom and leave some -of their bundles in it. - -“Miss Ayres is having a hunt for her trunk,” said Nan, joining them. -“It isn’t in your stateroom, and it doesn’t seem to be on the wharf.” - -“Why, she said she marked it to be put in the hold,” said Betty. “Has -she asked if it’s there?” And Will was hurried off to find Madeline and -inquire. - -It wasn’t easy finding anybody or anything on that dock. The edges -were crowded with people, the centre was filled with a confused mass -of struggling truck horses and shouting drivers who were all terribly -anxious to get somewhere, and didn’t seem to make the least progress -in spite of all their noise. Deck-hands were busy with trunks and -boxes, which they fastened to a pulley and swung out over the heads -of the people, and then up and down again, into the hold. Once in a -while a hansom wriggled its way through the drays to let out an excited -passenger, who always acted as if he had expected to find the boat gone -without him. - -That was the way Bob acted, as she jumped out of her hansom and ran up -the gangplank, holding a small boy tight by each hand and not paying -the least attention to Babe and Betty, who shrieked frantically at her -from their lookout on the upper deck. - -“I had to bring these,” she explained breathlessly, when the Smallest -Sister had intercepted her and conducted her to her friends. “The -housekeeper took two off my hands for the day and the coachman took -two, but nobody would take Jimmie or Joe.” - -“A guy on de dock’s tryin’ to spiel wid ye,” announced Jimmie, who had -lost no time in climbing up on the ship’s railing; and there, sure -enough, was Mr. Richard Blake, with a fresh supply of flowers, making a -megaphone of his hands and trying to ask where he should find Madeline. - -“Somewhere down there,” shrieked back Betty. “But you’d better come up -here and wait. Babbie and Mrs. Hildreth haven’t even come yet,” she -added to the others. “What if they should be too late?” - -“Seasoned travelers never come on board till the last minute,” said -Nan. “It shows that you’re new to the business to be standing around -like this.” - -“Oh, but it’s such fun to watch everything,” objected Babe. “I don’t -mind people’s knowing that it’s my first trip. It is, you see. What’s -that bell ringing for?” - -Mr. Wales looked at his watch. “It means that in five minutes more -they’re going to put us fellows off.” - -At that Babe got into a corner with her mother and father, and Betty -into another with her family, leaving Bob to entertain Mr. Blake until -Madeline sauntered up with the cheerful news that her trunk seemed to -be lost “for keeps.” - -“Just send it along if you happen to run into it anywhere, Dickie,” she -said, and Mr. Blake promised to find it if it was anywhere in “little -old New York.” - -When the second bell had rung and the boat began to empty of its -visitors the girls remembered Babbie again and began to be really -alarmed. But just as Betty was frantically trying to ask her father, -who had established his party on the edge of the dock, what in the -world they should do if the Hildreths didn’t come, Babbie appeared, -cool and serene in the prettiest of silk traveling suits. “Oh, I -thought you knew we’d come on board,” she apologized. “Mother’s lying -down and Marie is with her, and I----” Babbie blushed prettily. “Jack -is awfully shy, and he just hates to meet a lot of people, so we -stayed down below. I’m so sorry.” Babbie caught sight of a tall youth -shouldering his way to the edge of the wharf, and waved a big bunch of -violets at him. - -“I wish we could start now,” said Madeline. “This shouting last -speeches indefinitely isn’t all that it might be. Dick looks bored to -death.” - -“They’re taking up the gangplank,” announced Babe excitedly, tossing a -rose to Will. - -Just then a hansom drew up with a jerk, a distinguished-looking -gentleman tumbled out; Jimmie Scheverin wriggled away from Bob’s firm -grasp and jumped to the horse’s head, and the driver called to the -crowd in general to “lend him a hand” with the trunk. - -“No use hurrying now. They’ve given you up,” called somebody, and the -crowd roared with laughter. - -“Oh, I say, give de guy anudder chanst,” cried Jimmie shrilly, and even -the dignified gentleman laughed at that. He could afford to, for they -were letting down the gangplank again. - -“He’s a prominent senator,” Babe whispered eagerly. “I heard a man say -so. Think of having a boat wait for you! Well, we’re off at last. Dear -mummy! Goodness, father waved so hard that he almost fell into the -water! Betty Wales, are you crying too?” - -The wharf was backing away from them; the crowd of excited people, -shouting and waving flags and handkerchiefs, was only a great blur of -color now. - -“Well, that’s over,” said Madeline gaily. “I hate good-byes. Babe, -cheer up. It’s only for three months, and you’re going to have the -time of your life. Come and get bath hours and places for our steamer -chairs, and then we can explore the boat a little before it’s time to -eat our first and possibly our last meal afloat.” - -“And we must look at the mail,” added Babbie, “and give most of our -flowers to the stewardess to put on our table in the dining-room.” - -“Aren’t you glad we’ve got some experienced travelers in the party?” -laughed Babe, wiping away the tears, and taking Betty’s arm she marched -her off after the others. “Now how did they know that was the deck -steward? I should be afraid of mixing him up with the captain.” - -Three days later Babe smiled loftily at the recollection of such -pitiful ignorance. She had explored the ship from stem to stern, had -stood on the bridge with the captain, danced with the ship’s doctor, -exchanged views on the weather with the senator who had kept the boat -waiting, played deck golf and shuffle-board, and made friends with all -the children on the ship. All this she had done the first day out. The -other two she had spent forlornly in her berth, with the stewardess to -wait on her, Babbie and Madeline to amuse her, when she felt equal to -being amused, and Betty to keep her company. - -“Betty’s getting ready to come up here too,” she announced on the third -afternoon, tucking herself into the chair beside Babbie. “Now we can -decide where we’re going.” - -“Oh, there’s time enough for that,” objected Madeline lazily. “Let’s -enjoy the luxurious idleness of shipboard while we can.” - -Babbie yawned. “I don’t enjoy it. A day or so is all right, but eight!” - -“Specially if you’re inclined to be seasick,” put in Babe with feeling. - -Betty appeared just then, and she agreed with the B’s. “It’s all -right if you’re an invalid or tired, but as for me, I don’t see why -people talk so much about the joys of the trip across. Being cooped up -so long is stupid, and makes everybody else act stupid, and it’s just -dreadfully dull.” - -“And there aren’t any possibilities in it, somehow,” added Babe. “Of -course you may meet some interesting people, but you can’t do anything -but just talk to them a little and pass on.” - -“Like ‘ships that pass in the night,’” quoted Babbie solemnly. “I -always associate the people I’ve met on shipboard with too much to eat -and no place to put your clothes.” - -“And seasickish headaches,” added Babe. “Isn’t it almost time for -bouillon? The doctor told me to keep eating and I’d be all right.” - -“There’s the bugle for it this minute,” said Madeline, “and after that -I propose a stunt. Let’s all go off separately and see what excitement -we can unearth,--who can unearth the most, I mean. I don’t agree with -you about the possibilities of shipboard. A town of seven hundred -people certainly has possibilities, and that’s what we are,--a floating -town. In order to make the contest more exciting, let’s give the -winner a chance to say where we shall go first from Glasgow.” - -“Goodie!” cried Babbie. “That’s something like. I knew you’d think -up things to do, Madeline. Do you two invalids feel equal to so much -exertion?” - -The invalids declared that after they had had their mid-afternoon -repast they should feel equal to anything, and five minutes later the -four chairs were deserted. - -“Time limit, two hours,” called Madeline, as she disappeared around the -corner. “Meet in our chairs, of course.” - -Betty lingered a little. Madeline’s plan sounded very amusing, but -she hadn’t much idea how to carry out her part of it. She sauntered -slowly down the deck, past the row of steamer chairs, many of whose -occupants smiled and nodded at her as she passed. They might be very -exciting people, Betty reflected, but she should never find it out. -Madeline could do that sort of thing, not she. At the end of the deck -Betty stopped and leaning over the railing looked off out to sea, -wondering what Will and Nan and the Smallest Sister were doing just -then. Presently her glance fell to the deck below. It was full of the -queerest people. They were having a mid-afternoon lunch too,--drinking -it with gusto out of big tin cups. Most of them were men, but near -the cabin-door sprawled several children, and a few women, with -bright-colored shawls over their heads, sunned themselves by the -railing. - -“Oh, that must be the steerage!” thought Betty, and didn’t know she had -said it out loud until somebody answered her. - -“Yes, that’s the steerage,” said a deep voice close to her elbow. -“Should you like to go down and see what the steerage is like?” - -Betty looked around and recognized the senator who had kept the boat -waiting. - -“Why--yes,” she began, blushing at the idea of talking to such a great -man. “I should like to see it, only--isn’t it dreadfully dirty?” - -The senator laughed. “I hope not. If it is, we needn’t stay long. You -see--it’s a profound secret from the ship’s officials--but I’m going -over on purpose to investigate steerages. I’m seriously thinking of -coming back in one from Liverpool.” - -“You are!” Betty’s eyes opened wide in amazement. “Without letting any -one know who you are?” - -The senator nodded. “Exactly. And by the same token I’m making this -little visit to-day quite impromptu. Want to come? You can talk to the -women and find out if they’re being made comfortable.” - -“If this isn’t exciting, I don’t know what is,” Betty reflected, -following the senator down the steps to the lower deck and past the -guard,--who looked very threatening at first, but bowed profoundly when -he saw the senator’s card,--into the network of low-ceiled passages -beyond the tiny square of open deck. It was dirty, or at least it was -unpleasantly smelly. But by the time Betty had satisfied her curiosity -and would much rather have turned and gone straight back to her -comfortable steamer chair, the senator had forgotten all about her, and -surrounded by a group of eager men was deep in his investigation. - -“I can’t interrupt, and I can’t very well skip off without saying -anything,” thought Betty sadly, “because he might remember me after a -while and try to find me.” - -Judging by their conversation with the senator, most of the steerage -passengers seemed to be men--Scotch or Irish, going back to the “Ould -Country” for a visit to the “ould folks.” Betty listened a few minutes, -and then went on to the end of the passage, which opened out into a -room that seemed to be salon and dining-hall combined. Though this room -was nearly empty, the air was close and stifling and Betty was going -back to the deck to wait there for the senator, when her attention -was attracted by a group of women gathered in one corner. They were -standing around a little figure that sat huddled in a forlorn heap -on the wooden bench along the wall. The woman--or the child, for she -looked hardly more than that--hugged a baby tight in her arms, and -rocked it back and forward, moaning pitifully to herself all the time. - -Betty hesitated for an instant, and then went timidly up to the group. -“What’s the matter?” she asked softly of one of the bystanders, a fat -Irishwoman. “Can’t we do something to stop her crying like that?” - -“Ah, it’s sore thruble she’s in, the pore young crayther,” explained -the woman eagerly. “Her fayther and her mither and her two brothers -died in the same week av the dipthery, and she’s takin’ her baby sister -home to the ould folks. An’ she’s lost the money for her ticket to -County Cork.” - -“You mean she hasn’t any money at all?” asked Betty in amazement. - -“Niver a cint,” the sympathetic Irishwoman assured her. “Shure, ’twas -lost or stolen the first day out. Anyhow ’tis gone.” - -“An’ we’ve none of us ony over to be lendin’ her,” another woman put -in. “The times is that bad, an’ all.” - -“How much does it cost to go to County Cork?” - -“A pound an’ six from Derry.” - -“How much is that, and how do you get to ‘Derry’?” asked Betty in -bewilderment. - -“Oh, the boat lets you off at Derry, if you’re for the ould country,” -explained her interlocutress, “and a pound an’ six is $6.50 in the -States money, miss. But she’d need a bite an’ a sup on the way for her -an’ the babe.” - -The girl had apparently paid no attention at all to this colloquy. But -now she lifted her tear-stained face to Betty’s and held out the -baby. “It’s only for her I’m carin’,” she said. “I had ten dollars -saved over my passage back an’ the train ticket, an’ that goes a long -way in Ireland. The old folks are poor, too, but I thought they’d take -her in for that, and what I could be sendin’ them later. I couldn’t -tend her an’ work, too, but whatever shall I do over here? There’s no -work at all in Ireland.” - -[Illustration: “IT’S ONLY FOR HER I’M CARIN’”] - -“What a darling baby!” cried Betty, as the blue eyes opened and the -little red face crumpled itself into a tremendous yawn. “Why, I never -saw such big blue eyes!” The little mother smiled faintly at this -praise, and Betty wanted to add that big blue eyes evidently ran in the -family. Instead she said, “Please don’t feel so unhappy. I’ll see that -you have the money for the ticket to your friends, and perhaps----” -Betty stopped, not wishing to promise anything for the others, though -she was sure that if Babbie saw the baby’s eyes she would reduce the -number of dresses she meant to buy in Paris to three without a murmur. - -“An’ she ain’t the worst off, ayther, ma’am,” put in Betty’s voluble -informant. “There’s an English gyrul that’s sick, pore dear, in her -bunk, wid an awful rackin’ cough and a face as pale as death, an’ it’s -tin cints she do be havin’ to take her home to her mither that’s a -coster-woman in London town, an’ wants to see her daughter before she -dies.” - -“But why did she start if she didn’t have enough money?” demanded Betty. - -“Wudn’t you, dearie, if you was dyin’ and knew it?” - -“Ah, here you are. Are you ready to go back?” The senator had pumped -his audience dry, and remembered Betty. “Well, how is it? Do they -complain of the service?” he asked, as they went back to the upper deck. - -“The service--oh, I’m so sorry! I hadn’t gotten around to ask them,” -said Betty meekly, and then burst out with the stories she had heard. - -The senator listened intently, and his keen eyes grew soft, as he -fumbled for his pocketbook. “That’s the point, my dear young lady,” he -said soberly. “After all, what are two weeks’ comfort or discomfort to -people as poor as most of those? I saw a miserable fellow, too,--sick -and discouraged, taking his motherless children back home before he -dies. But your girl is worse off. Give her this. It will help a little.” - -Betty gasped at the size of the bill, but the senator murmured -something about wanting to smoke and hurried off, and there was nothing -to do but go back to the others. She was the last of the quartette to -reach the rendezvous. - -“Two minutes late,” called Madeline as she appeared. - -“That’s lucky,” laughed Betty, tucking her rug in, “because I couldn’t -possibly decide where to go from Glasgow--I don’t know enough about -the geography of Scotland--and my story is perfectly sure to take the -prize.” - -“H’m!” said Babe doubtfully. “I saw you. You needn’t be puffed up -because you leaned over the railing and talked to a live senator. I’ve -been talking to a live actress--there’s a whole company of them on -board, Madeline, and you’ve never discovered them.” - -“Which is she?” asked Babbie. “The stunning woman with the blue velvet -suit?” - -“No, the little mouse-like one with gray furs, and she’s played -with----” - -“Wait,” commanded Madeline. “You’ve told enough for the first time -round. The stunning woman in blue velvet, if you care to know, is the -maid of the mouse-like actress. I’ve talked to her. Now, Babbie.” - -“Oh, I’m out of it,” explained Babbie. “Marie has a sore throat, and -mother wanted to be read aloud to.” - -“Well, the senator is only one of the people I’ve talked to,” put in -Betty eagerly. “I’ve been in the steerage----” - -“Oh, you lucky girl,” cried Madeline. “I tried to go yesterday and got -turned down. How did you get past the guard? Do tell us all about it.” - -So Betty “told,” saving the senator’s bill for a climax. At the end of -the story Babbie declared that she simply must see the blue-eyed Irish -baby, and Babe winked back the tears over the lonely English girl. -While they were talking, some Harding girls of an older generation came -up and made Madeline’s Dramatic Club pin an excuse for introducing -themselves. Of course they heard about Betty’s visit to the steerage, -and they were so interested that Madeline had an idea. - -“All the passengers would like to help those poor people, I’m sure. -Couldn’t we give an entertainment of some sort? There’s the captain, -Babe. Go ask him if he’s willing.” - -The captain assured Babe that “any show she wanted went on his boat,” -the little gray-gowned actress, who had refused to appear at the ship’s -concert, promised that she and her leading man would act a farce, the -senator volunteered to canvass the steerage for somebody to dance an -Irish jig, Babbie designed some dainty souvenir programs, and the other -crowd of Harding girls arranged a “stunt number” that proved to be -the star feature of the evening. Betty printed the tickets, and the -senator sold them all at twenty-five cents “or over,” with astonishing -financial results. - -“That’s all right,” he said as he passed the money over to Betty. -“There are three hundred first class passengers on this boat, but six -of them are judges--they pay double--and five are colonels--it takes -three tickets to get in a colonel.” - -“And how many to get in a senator?” laughed Betty. - -“Twenty,” said the senator solemnly, taking them out of his pocket. - -So there was enough money to get the English girl to London, and the -Irish girl to County Cork and then back to the States to work for her -blue-eyed baby sister, and something over to pay the baby’s board with -the “ould folks,” and to help out the poor man with the big family of -children. - -“And the best of it is, it’s given us something to do,” said Babe the -last afternoon on board. “I don’t believe I should have been seasick if -we’d thought of this sooner.” - -“Easy to say that when land is in sight,” said Madeline loftily, -squinting at the horizon line. - -And sure enough land was in sight and presently it turned out to be the -loveliest, greenest land that the girls had ever seen. - -“What is it?” demanded Babe excitedly. “An island or a country?” - -None of the girls knew, but a friendly passenger explained that it was -both an island and a country, for it was Ireland. - -“Why, of course,” cried Babe. “That’s why it’s so green. Is it really -greener than other places, or does it only look greener because we -haven’t seen any other places for eight days?” - -Madeline and Betty thought it was really greener, while the B’s -inclined to the opinion that it couldn’t be--that it was the -atmosphere, perhaps. - -“It’s certainly a queer atmosphere,” said Babe, as they hurried up -on deck after dinner, to see the tender full of passengers off for -“Derry.” “It’s eight o’clock this minute, and the sunset hasn’t -finished up.” - -“See that lovely white farmhouse up on that hill,” said Betty, pointing -toward land. “Doesn’t it look as if there were fairies in those fields, -girls?” - -“I don’t know about the fairies,” said Babe, “but I love the way the -white foam breaks on the green moss. Let’s go to Ireland.” - -“Why, we haven’t decided”--chanted four voices together. - -“Where we’ll go from Glasgow,” finished Babbie alone. “Well, it doesn’t -matter, because mother will have to rest a day or two before we go -anywhere. Just think! The poor thing hasn’t been up on deck yet.” - -“And while she’s resting,” put in Madeline, “we can explore Glasgow and -then, if she’s willing, go down to Ayr. That’s a nice little day trip.” - -“Let me see,” said Babe reflectively. “Ayr--Ayr--I ought to know about -it, but I don’t.” - -“Robert Burns’ country,” explained Madeline briefly. “Why, that tender -is really starting. Wave your handkerchiefs to the baby’s sister, -Betty. She’s almost dropping the poor infant in her efforts to make you -see her.” - -“I looked at the map before dinner,” announced Babe proudly. “I know -just where we are, and the real name of ‘Derry’ is Londonderry.” - -“I found that out too,” declared Betty. “Maps are quite interesting -when you’re on one, aren’t they? I used to hate geography in school, -but from now on I shall adore it, I’m sure.” - -“I must go and help Marie pack,” said Babbie with a last glance at the -green hills, that were turning a beautiful misty gray in the twilight. - -“We’ve got to pack too.” - -“And go to bed early, because we’ve got to get up early.” - -“So as to land in Europe,” finished Babe. “Doesn’t that sound -too--sweet--elegant--grand for anything. Come on and get busy, girls.” - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -A DISILLUSIONMENT MADE GOOD - - -THE next morning the rising bell rang uncomfortably early, and -everybody dressed and breakfasted in nervous haste, pursued by the fear -of not being ready to get off the boat at the critical moment. And then -there was nothing to do for an hour or so but “just wait and wait and -wait,” as Babe complained dolefully. Babe was dreadfully impatient to -“land in Europe,” and found it simply tantalizing to have to hang over -the railing and look at the shores of Scotland, with the little gray -town of Greenock hardly a stone’s throw off. Betty, on the other hand, -was willing to wait because she thought Greenock so pretty, with its -curving bay, edged by a stone promenade, and its gray stone houses, all -very much alike, standing in a neat row encircling the shore. - -“It’s a summer resort,” she announced, having consulted her Baedeker, -which she had brought up on deck to see just where they were on the -map of Scotland. “I wish we could stay there for awhile. It looks so -quiet and quaint.” - -“It doesn’t look very exciting to me,” objected Babe. “The idea of -building summer cottages of stone!” - -“They aren’t cottages,” explained Babbie, “they’re villas. Don’t you -know how people in English novels always go and take lodgings in a -villa by the sea?” - -“Oh, do let’s do that,” cried Betty eagerly. “It sounds so perfectly -English.” - -“I’ve been looking over some Scotch addresses that Mary Brooks gave -me,” said Madeline, “and I think we ought to go to Oban. She and Marion -Lawrence both said it was the most fascinating spot they’d ever seen. -It’s a seaside resort too, Betty, and the address they gave me is villa -something or other, so it answers all your requirements.” - -“Why, that’s the place mother’s doctor spoke about,” put in Babbie. -“I told him I wanted to go to little out-of-the-way villages, and he -mentioned that one. How do you get there, Madeline?” - -“Why, by boat, I think Mary said. Let me take your Baedeker, Betty.” - -“Oh, I’m so glad she can make out trains and things,” said Babbie, with -a sigh of relief. “Mother can’t and I can’t, and it’s such a bother -always to have to ask the hotel people.” - -Presently Madeline announced that she knew just how to go to Oban by -boat, and how to come back by train, and then Marie appeared with a -message from Mrs. Hildreth that it was time for the girls to come -down-stairs and get their hand-baggage together. - -“But we’re not within ten miles of Glasgow yet,” objected Babe, proud -of her newly-acquired knowledge of the geography of the region. - -“Oh, we go there from Greenock on a boat-train,” Babbie told her. “And -here comes a tender or a ferry, or whatever they call it, to take us -ashore.” - -So there was only time to say good-bye to the funny old Scotch -stewardess, who had told them to “Come awa’” to their baths every -morning, to the other Harding girls, and to the senator, who gave -Betty his card and made her promise to let him know when she came -to Washington; and then they were chug-chugging over to the Greenock -station, where Madeline instructed the novices in the art of getting -one’s trunks through the customs, while Babbie established her mother -comfortably on the train. Madeline had quite given up finding her trunk -and was congratulating herself on having put so many things into her -“carry-all,” when she heard the senator protesting volubly that his -name wasn’t Ayres and that he hadn’t brought a trunk anyway, whereupon -she pounced joyously on her property and refused to let it out of her -sight again until it had been put aboard the Glasgow train. - -Betty and Babe found the train very amusing. Instead of long cars with -rows of seats on either side of the aisle, there were funny little -compartments, each holding eight or ten people, half of whom were -obliged to ride backward whether they liked it or not. But as this -train wasn’t crowded, Mrs. Hildreth’s party had a compartment all to -themselves, and Betty and Babe were free to exclaim as much as they -liked over the delightful queerness of European travel. Foxgloves and -chimney-pots were the two objects of greatest interest en route. Babbie -discovered the foxgloves growing in a pretty little grove close by the -railroad track; the chimney-pots jostled one another on the roof of -every cottage they passed, and as they came into Glasgow made such an -impression on Babe that she could think of nothing else and almost fell -out the window in her efforts to count the most imposing clusters. - -“It’s queer,” she said, leaning back wearily as the train swept into a -tunnel, “how nobody ever tells you about the things you notice most. -Now I’ve talked to quantities of people who’ve traveled in Europe, and -not one of them ever so much as mentioned chimney-pots.” - -“Well, now you can make yourself famous for your originality by -mentioning them to everybody,” said Babbie consolingly. “Here we are in -Glasgow. Who’s going to see about the trunks?” - -“Oh, let me,” volunteered Betty. “Somebody will have to show me how the -first time, but I want to learn.” - -So Madeline and Betty went off to find the trunks and have them sent to -the station hotel, where Mrs. Hildreth had decided to stay while they -were in Glasgow. - -“It was too comical for anything,” Betty told Babe afterward. “They -just dumped all the trunks and bags in a heap on the platform, and each -person picked out whatever ones he pleased, and said they were his, and -got a porter to carry them away for him. The English people must be -very honest. Imagine doing that way in America!” - -“We’ve been ‘booked’ for rooms at the hotel,” said Babe, laughing over -the queer word. “And that’s luggage that you’re carrying,--not baggage -any more, please remember. So come along and have lunch and then we can -go out and see the sights.” - -Mrs. Hildreth was quite willing that the girls should explore Glasgow -without her, and spend the next day in Ayr, if they pleased. - -“I don’t need to worry about you,” she told them, “for I’m sure you -are all too sensible to do any foolish or foolhardy things. On the -continent you may have to be a little more particular, but here and in -England you can do about as you like.” - -“I wish you could come too, Mrs. Hildreth,” said Betty, when they were -ready to start. - -Mrs. Hildreth smiled at her. “So do I, my dear. Just as soon as I’m a -little rested, I shall be delighted to go with you whenever you’ll take -me. I quite look forward to seeing Europe in such good company.” - -“Poor little mother!” said Babbie, as they went off. “She never had a -chance to do as she liked when she was a girl. She always had nurses -and governesses trailing around after her, and then she went to a -fashionable school in Boston, where you take walks two and two and -never stir without a chaperon. After that she had to ‘come out’ in -society, though she hated it as much as Bob does, and wanted to study -art in Paris. But her mother thought that was all nonsense for a girl -who had plenty of money. So when I wanted to go to college mother let -me, and she often says she’s awfully glad that my best friends are -girls who can go ahead and have a good time anywhere--not the helpless -society kind.” - -“I say, where are we aiming for?” Babe demanded suddenly. - -“For the Glasgow Cathedral,” answered Madeline placidly. “This way, -please.” - -“This way please! Follow the man from Cook’s,” chanted Babbie -mockingly. And after that Madeline was known as “the man from Cook’s,” -because her easy fashion of finding her way around each place they -visited, whether or not she had been there before, rivaled the -omniscience of the great tourist agency. - -So under Madeline’s capable guidance they visited the beautiful old -cathedral and then took an electric tram, which is like an electric car -with seats on the roof and a spiral stairway at the back leading up to -them, out to the park and the art gallery. After Babe had looked at -the one great treasure of the gallery, Whistler’s portrait of Thomas -Carlyle, she announced that she had seen enough for one day, and would -wait for the others outside. - -“Let’s all say ‘enough,’” suggested Babbie, “and go for a tram-ride. -I move that the man from Cook’s be censured for telling us that it -wasn’t far enough out here to pay us for climbing to the top-story of -the tram. Hereafter it is going to be a rule that we always ride on -top.” - -“I should say it was,” Babe seconded her eagerly. “My father owns a -trolley line in Rochester, New York, and I’m going to write and tell -him about this second-story idea. I’m sure people would flock from all -over the country to ride up on the roof of the cars. Then he’d make -piles of money and I could go abroad every summer, the way Babbie does.” - -“Let’s just ride back to town on top,” suggested Betty, “and then go -and have tea at the address Mary Brooks gave us. She said it was the -nicest tea-shop they went to anywhere.” - -This suited everybody, and they had all climbed up on the second -story of the tram, and were settling themselves for the ride back, -when Babbie gave an exclamation of delight. “Why, that’s John Morton -standing on the steps of the art gallery. Oh, do let’s get off! I want -to go back and talk to him. Why, I hadn’t the least idea he was in -Europe!” - -“Oh, don’t let’s get down again,” wailed Betty, who had stepped on her -skirt-braid in climbing up, and was trying to repair damages with pins. -“It’s such dreadfully hard work.” - -“We can’t,” declared Madeline decisively. “We’ve paid our tuppences, -and we couldn’t get them back.” - -“I wish I could remember to say tuppence,” sighed Babe enviously. “Who -is John Morton, Babbie? Are you sure it’s he on the steps?” - -“Oh, I think so,” said Babbie eagerly. “I wish he’d turn around again, -and I could be sure. He’s just the jolliest fellow, and I haven’t seen -him for two years. Oh, dear, we’re starting!” as the tram gave a jerk -and a lurch, and was off. - -“Never mind, Babbie,” teased Babe. “Remember your dear Jack and the -touching farewell that caused us all so much anxiety. We can’t be -bothered with another of your suitors so soon.” - -“Don’t apply the title of suitor to John, please,” laughed Babbie, -leaning over for a last look at the figure on the steps. “He’s as -much of a professed woman-hater as you are man-hater, but he makes an -exception of me because I like to tramp and ride horseback. You’d like -him, Babe. Madeline, do you know where to get off for this tea place?” - -Madeline didn’t; and as the conductor didn’t see fit to come up, Babbie -had to climb down, while the tram was going at full speed, to find out. - -“I wouldn’t have missed this for anything,” said Madeline, when they -were settled at one of the tables in Miss Jelliff’s Tea Rooms. The -seats were carved oak settles, there were wonderful brass candlesticks -in niches by the door, and on the tables were bunches of pale blue -irises, to match the blue china. The bread was in what Babe called -a “three-story revolving bread-case,” the toast in a quaint little -English toast-rack, and the jam, pepper and mustard in fascinating -pots, while the cups, though all blue, were of different shapes and -patterns. - -“Let me pour the tea,” begged Betty. “Which cup do you each choose?” - -“I’m so glad we came,” said Babe. “First maxim for travelers: When you -have had enough, stop. As I thought of that, I demand first choice of -cups.” - -“All right,” conceded Madeline. “Second maxim for travelers: When in -doubt, drink afternoon tea. I demand second choice of cups.” - -“I shall get third choice, anyway, shan’t I?” said Babbie. “So I -needn’t weary my brains thinking of maxims.” - -So Betty poured the tea, and Madeline told fortunes for all the party -in the grounds, after which the smiling waitress appeared and asked -them how much bread they had eaten. - -“I hated to own up to five pieces,” sighed Babe, “not because I -begrudged the beggarly pence they cost, but because I am ashamed of my -appetite. Girls, there are more rooms up-stairs.” - -“Let’s have breakfast here to-morrow before we go to Ayr,” suggested -Betty. “Mrs. Hildreth won’t be up early enough to eat with us at the -hotel, so we might just as well come here.” - -“All right,” agreed Babbie. “Does the man from Cook’s know when trains -leave for Ayr?” - -He didn’t, and there was a rush to find out and purchase tickets before -dinner-time. - -“I’m crazy to see Ayr,” said Babe the next day. “I’m very fond of -Burns’s poems, and I can just imagine the sleepy, old-fashioned little -hamlet he was born in. His birthplace and the haunted kirk and the -bridges across the Doon and all the other Burns relics are out in the -country, about two miles from the station. Let’s buy some fruit and -sweet chocolate and eat our lunch on the way. It will be a lovely walk, -I’m sure.” - -“Along English lanes, with tall hedgerows on each side,” added Babbie -dreamily. “What a pity it’s too late for primroses.” - -So great was their disappointment, when the train stopped at Ayr, to -find themselves in a busy, prosperous, specklessly clean town, with a -paved square just back of the station, where one was expected to sit -and wait for the tram that ran out to the birthplace of Robert Burns -once in ten minutes. - -“There’s nothing to do but take their old tram, I suppose,” sighed Babe -disconsolately. “It’s no fun walking along a car-track. Fancy this -smug, bustling factory-town being Ayr! Is all Europe fixed up like -this, Madeline?” - -Madeline assured her that it wasn’t, and Babbie declared that if Oban -was horrid and new they would go straight to London by the first train. -“For there’s nothing horrid and new about London,” she declared. - -When they arrived at the house where Burns was born, Babe objected -again because the thatched roof and the whitewashed walls looked -so new; but the churchyard was beautiful and the “Auld Brig” -picturesque, and they were just beginning to enjoy themselves, when -two heavily-loaded trams came up, and soon the place was swarming with -talkative Americans, most of them from the same boat that the girls had -crossed on. - -“It’s a party,” explained Babe, when she had escaped from the embraces -of a pretty young girl who had taken a fancy to her on shipboard. “That -fat man with spectacles is the conductor. See them all gather around -him while he reads selections from Tam O’Shanter. Goodness! Wouldn’t I -hate to do Europe with a bunch like that!” - -“Let’s go back,” said Babbie sadly. “Haven’t we seen everything?” - -“And if we hurry we may get there in time for tea at Miss Jelliff’s,” -added Betty. “There’s a room we haven’t been in yet, you know.” - -Babbie was very quiet all the way back. As they took their places -around the tea-table she announced proudly, “Third maxim for tourists: -Avoid birthplaces. Now I can have first choice of cups.” - -“Don’t you think we ought to have a maxim about avoiding conducted -parties?” asked Babe, helping herself to bread. - -“No,” said Madeline decisively, “I don’t. The kind of tourists that our -maxims are intended for would know better than that without being told. -Girls, do you want to know what I’m going to do next year?” - -“Of course,” chorused her three friends eagerly. - -“Start a fascinating tea-room like this in either Harding or New York.” - -“But I thought you were going to live in Sorrento with your family.” - -“Don’t all Bohemians have to be artists?” - -“Then will you come back to America when we do?” - -Madeline laughed at the avalanche of questions. “All good Bohemians are -artists,” she explained, “but not necessarily in paint. You can be an -artist in tea-rooms, too, you know. I suppose I shall try to write more -or less, since my family seem to expect it of me, but until I’ve made -my everlasting reputation as a short-story writer I should like to have -a steady source of income, which is a thing that most Bohemians don’t -have. Besides, think what fun it would be buying the china.” - -“It would be great,” declared Babbie solemnly. “Don’t you want a -partner, Madeline?” - -Madeline laughed. “Wait until I’ve broken the news to my family, -Babbie. As I only thought of it this afternoon, my ideas of what I -want--except this darling china--are somewhat vague.” - -“Well, anyhow,” persisted Babbie, “let’s have tea-rooms for one of the -dominant interests of our trip. Don’t you remember in one of Roberta’s -books it says that every traveler should have a dominant interest in -order to get the most profit and pleasure out of his journey.” - -“Well, what can the rest of us have?” asked Betty, turning her teacup -upside down and twirling it around three times, ready for Madeline to -tell her fortune in the mystic leaves. - -“Oh, we’ll get them as we go along, I guess,” said Babbie easily. “I -already know what mine won’t be. It won’t be birthplaces.” - -Mrs. Hildreth was much amused at the story of the day’s -disillusionments. - -“It’s very hard nowadays to get away from other American tourists,” she -warned the girls. “You mustn’t expect to have exclusive possession of -all these beautiful old pilgrimage places.” - -Babbie groaned. “Suppose that awful conducted party should go up to -Oban on the boat with us.” - -“If they should dare to do such a thing, we’ll wait over a day,” Babe -threatened savagely. - -But no such drastic measures proved necessary. - -“In spite of what your mother said, I verily believe we’re the only -Americans on board,” said Babe gleefully, as they swung out of Greenock -harbor next morning. It was a glorious day, with fleecy white clouds -scudding across a blue sky and the sun turning the sea to a sheet of -sparkling silver. As they got further out into the Firth of Clyde the -wind blew the clouds up over the sun and wrapped the craggy islands -in purple mists. The scenery grew wilder and more magnificent every -moment, and the girls more enthusiastic. Every time the boat stopped -at a pretty watering-place or a lonely fishing village, Betty wished -they could get off. “For I don’t see how it can be any nicer than this -around Oban,” she said, “and what if it should be like Ayr?” - -But all day the purple headlands grew bolder and more beautiful, and -when at last Oban came into view it proved to be the crowning glory of -the day’s trip. The crescent-shaped bay had a great rock to guard it on -one side and an ivy-covered ruin on the other. Between them the little -town clung to the hills above the sea, its villas almost hidden among -the trees, and a huge stone amphitheatre, which the girls couldn’t -even guess the meaning of, crowning the highest slope. - -Madeline had written ahead to “Daisybank Villa,” so there was a boy to -meet them at the landing, take charge of their bags, and show them the -way up a steep, winding road, to the house--such a pretty house, with -roses climbing around the door and real Scotch daisies starring the -turf of the tiny lawn. - -“Oh, see the ‘daisies pied,’” cried Babe in great excitement. “There’s -more of Robert Burns in this yard than there was in the whole of that -horrid old Ayr. Do let’s have dinner right off, so we can go and -explore.” - -But dinner was at noon in “Daisybank Villa,” so the pretty young -housekeeper explained apologetically. What they had now was -“tea,”--which meant bread and butter, even nicer, if possible, than -Miss Jelliff’s; hot scones and bannocks--Babe demanded the names of -the blushing little waitress--the nicest orange marmalade, fresh -strawberries smothered in thick cream, and tea with a “cozy” to keep -the pot warm. - -But the real feature of the occasion was the bell which one rang by -getting up from the table and pulling a heavy red tassel that hung -behind a curtain by the door. - -“Exactly as they always do on the stage,” said Babe in ecstasy, -manfully resisting the temptation to summon the waitress again just for -the fun of pulling the bell. - -“And we’re living in lodgings in a villa by the sea,” added Betty. “I -feel like the heroine of a Jane Austen novel, and I’m going to write to -Nan this very evening. She’ll be so pleased to think that I’ve at last -had a literary sensation.” - -After tea Babe and Madeline went out to explore Oban, while Babbie -helped Marie to make Mrs. Hildreth’s room comfortable, and Betty made a -pretext of the letter to Nan to wait for her. - -When the four girls met half an hour later on the promenade Madeline -and Babe were laughing over a little adventure they had had. - -“We were walking along that road off there,” Babe explained, “hurrying -pretty fast, because we wanted to go into that lovely ivy-covered -castle and be back here in time to meet you. And as we passed two -awfully nice-looking youths, one said something to the other in Dutch, -and Madeline, having spent a summer in Holland, understood it.” - -“And translated it into the American idiom for Babe’s benefit,” -Madeline took her up, “as ‘Get on to their stride,’--never thinking, of -course, that the men also understood English. But they did, because the -one who had said that in Dutch had the audacity to smile and remark to -his friend in Italian that we were the first Americans he’d ever met -who understood Dutch.” - -“And we couldn’t get into the ruin,” Babe went on, “because the gate -was locked, so we came back and sat down here by the water to watch -the sunset. And by and by they came back too, and that time they were -talking English--not for our benefit either, because they didn’t see -us.” - -“Well, were they Americans after all?” asked Babbie. - -“Oh, no,” Madeline explained, “they were Dutch, I suppose. The Dutch -are great linguists, you know.” - -“They looked awfully jolly,” said Babe regretfully, “especially the one -who admired our stride. If he’d been an American he’d have stopped and -apologized for his rude remark, and helped us climb the wall into the -castle gardens. It’s awfully high and it has broken glass on top just -like a story-book, and you can go in only on Tuesdays and Fridays.” - -“How disgusting for a castle to have at-home days!” said Babbie. “I -love ruins, and we passed so many nice ones on the way up. Isn’t there -any other near Oban, man from Cook’s?” - -“I’ll find out in the morning,” Madeline promised. “At present I feel -more like bed. It’s half-past nine, if it is broad daylight.” - - - - -CHAPTER V - -A RUIN AND A REUNION - - -THE next morning at breakfast Madeline announced that she had -found a ruined castle for Babbie. - -“The one with the ivy on it is Dunollie,” she explained. “It belonged -to the giant Fingal once upon a time--he’s the giant that had the cave -out on one of those lovely purple islands, you know. He must have -either lived in this castle, or visited here often, because there is a -stone in the yard that he used to tie his dog to.” - -“And who used to live in my castle?” inquired Babbie, making a wry face -as she tasted the queer English coffee. “I don’t wonder the English -drink tea for breakfast rather than this horrible stuff. I’m going to -have milk. Whose turn is it to ring the bell? Now, Madeline,” when -Betty had proudly pulled the bell-cord, and taken her seat again, -“tell us all about my castle.” - -“I don’t know anything about it,” said Madeline, “except that it is -named Dunstaffnage, and it’s somewhere on the shore, a few miles north -of Oban. I presume our landlady can tell us just how to get to it.” - -“You’re sure it’s not on any tram-line?” inquired Babbie anxiously. “I -don’t want the kind of ruin that’s on a tram-line, you know.” - -“No, it’s not that kind,” Madeline assured her. “You have to drive or -walk to get there.” - -“We’ll walk, of course,” said Babe, and everybody agreed, though their -landlady assured them it was a “right smart distance awa’.” - -“But ye’ll be all the hungrier for your dinner,” she added comfortably. -“What will ye have for yer dinner?” - -“Why, anything you like to give us,” said Betty, to whom she had -addressed her remark. - -“Verra well. Lamb, perhaps, and strawberry tartlets?” - -“Strawberry tartlets for mine,” cried Babe, throwing her -tam-o’-shanter in the air. “We’ll be back in time for strawberry -tartlets, no matter how good a time we’re having.” - -So they started briskly off to find the castle,--a merry party in -tam-o’-shanters and sweaters,--for the wind fairly whistled across the -moors, and it seemed more like November than July, Betty said. - -“That’s because Scotland is so far north,” said Babe wisely. “The long -twilights come from that too. It’s almost like the land of the midnight -sun.” - -“Well, it’s certainly awfully cold,” said Babbie. “Let’s race.” - -So they raced down the hard white road till they had reached the -graveyard that their landlady had named to them as a landmark. - -“This must be the road she told us to take across the fields,” said -Babe, pointing to a grassy track that turned off the highroad toward -the sea. - -“I should call that a path, not a road,” Madeline objected. - -“I’ll go ahead and see if there’s any other turning,” suggested Betty. - -There didn’t seem to be any, so they took the grassy path--or tried -to. A little way down it were some bars, and when they went through -them into the pasture an old black cow rushed out from a clump of -bushes and ran at them fiercely with her head down. - -Betty and Babbie screamed in terror and scrambled back to the safe side -of the fence; Madeline followed them more deliberately, and even Babe, -the bold and fearless explorer of cow-pastures, finally climbed to the -top of the fence, where she sat astride the highest board to await -developments. The cow watched the retreat with interest and after a few -minutes wandered idly off to the grassy spot where the rest of the herd -were grazing. - -“Come on,” said Babe encouragingly, when the cow’s back was safely -turned. “She won’t come at us again, I’m sure. If she does, I’ll -protect you. Hurry up, Madeline. We’ve got to find the castle and get -back in time for the strawberry tartlets.” - -So first Babe climbed down into the pasture, then Madeline crawled -through the bars, with Babe after her and Betty bringing up the rear. -But no sooner had Betty pushed safely through than the old black cow -turned her head, discovered what had happened, and charged as fiercely -as before. - -“Oh, dear,” sighed Babe, from her perch on the fence, “she wouldn’t -really hurt us, I’m sure of it. She’s just curious about us. Cows are -awfully curious animals.” - -“She shows her curiosity in a very peculiar way,” declared Babbie. “She -doesn’t want us in her pasture--that’s very evident.” - -“Being a loyal Scotch cow, she objects to an American invasion,” -laughed Madeline. “See her eating away as calmly as if we didn’t exist. -Let’s be awfully quiet getting through this time and perhaps we can cut -across a corner of the pasture before she discovers us.” - -But they couldn’t. This time Betty was the first one to follow the -intrepid Babe into the enemy’s country, and as soon as her head -appeared between the bars the old cow stopped eating and came toward -her. Then Babe had an idea. - -“It’s your red cap, Betty,” she cried. “Hide it and see what happens.” - -In nervous haste Betty pulled out her hatpins and tucked the scarlet -tam-o’-shanter out of sight under her white sweater. Whereupon the -black cow lowed amiably and turned her head to nip a tempting tuft of -clover. - -“Well, so that was what she wanted,” said Babbie indignantly. “I -supposed it was all a myth about cows chasing red, didn’t you, Babe?” - -“I didn’t know,” said Babe carelessly, striding through the bushes. -“Anyhow, I’m mighty glad we’re off. We shall never find your castle at -this rate.” - -“Do you know,” said Betty reflectively, “this is a real story-book -country that we’re in. Even the cows act as they do in story-books.” - -“Well, the roads don’t,” objected Madeline. “This one has come to a -plain, unvarnished end, as roads and other things have a way of doing -in real life. Why, it’s brought us right down to the sea!” - -Sure enough, they had come out on a strip of sandy beach, with a little -cluster of bath houses at one end. A girl was standing in the door of -one of them. - -“Go ask her the way, Madeline,” commanded Babbie. “You’re the only one -that can remember the name of my castle.” - -So Madeline went, and returned with the news that they had taken the -wrong turn at the cemetery and must go back through the pasture to the -road on the hill. - -“Never,” declared Babe firmly. “That cow would have a chance to say, ‘I -told you so.’ She was evidently trying to tell us that we were on the -wrong track. Didn’t you say the castle was near the water? If so, why -can’t we go to it along the shore? It’s a lot prettier down here.” - -So Madeline interviewed the bath-house girl again. - -“She was very discouraging about it,” she announced. “She said it was -awfully rough, with nothing but sheep-trails to walk on, but we can try -it if you all want to.” - -It was great fun walking on the sheep-trails close by the edge of the -sea, with the gorse and heather that they had always read about under -their very feet, and the expectation of seeing the castle as they -rounded each headland. But presently they came to a fence--a high, -close-meshed wire fence with a strand of barbed wire on top. - -“Looks as if it was meant to keep people out, now doesn’t it?” said -Babe cheerfully. - -“Come and help me over,” called Babbie, trying to dig her toes into the -wire meshes. - -“Isn’t trespassing a dreadful crime over here?” asked Betty anxiously, -when they had all succeeded in getting over. - -“Dreadful,” answered Madeline solemnly, “but the cliffs are too steep -to climb, and we can’t go all the way back to the beach. Besides, we -haven’t any guns. Trespassers are always supposed to be looking for -game, I think.” - -Part of the way the sheep-trail led so near to the water’s edge that it -made Babbie dizzy, and once they had to cross a rickety little wooden -bridge over a deep ravine and Betty got over only by bravely shutting -her eyes and trying to believe Babe’s blithe assertion that a good fat -sheep, like those they saw on the hillsides, must weigh almost as much -as a smallish girl. But the worst of it was, they couldn’t find the -castle. - -“Lost: one perfectly good ruin, well off tram-lines,” chanted Babbie -wearily. “The cliffs aren’t steep here. Let’s climb up to the highest -point and see if we can’t find a farmhouse where we can ask our way.” - -But at the same moment that they discovered the farmhouse they saw the -castle--or rather a thickly wooded point where Babe was sure it was -hidden, so they pushed straight on without stopping to make inquiries. -A low stone wall separated the wood from the moorland, and Babe was -just stepping over it, when she stopped and gave a funny little -exclamation. - -“Our Dutchmen,” she said to Madeline. “They must be the wardens of the -castle. Anyhow they’re camping in the wood.” - -“Can’t we go on?” inquired Babbie anxiously. - -“Of course,” said Madeline with decision. “Baedeker would have told us -if it hadn’t been open to tourists. Come on, Babbie.” - -The four had climbed the wall and were walking demurely through the -wood, politely keeping as far as possible from the tent, when Babbie -happened to catch sight of Babe’s and Madeline’s Dutchmen, who had been -lying comfortably on the ground in front of their tent, and now were -sitting up, apparently quite absorbed in the books they were reading. - -“Dutchmen indeed!” said Babbie coolly. “Why, it’s John Morton. Oh, -Jackie Morton!” she raised her voice. “What are you doing camping out -in the enchanted wood of my castle?” - -At this one of the campers dropped his book, stared in the direction -from which Babbie’s voice had come, and jumping up came quickly toward -her. - -“Well, this is funny,” he declared, wringing her hand, “because I was -just thinking about the jolly summer we had up at Sunset Lake and -wishing the same old crowd was here to tramp over the moors and picnic -and sail and have bully times together.” - -Babbie laughed and introduced him to Babe, Betty, and Madeline, and he, -in his turn, called to his companion to come and meet everybody. - -“It’s my tutor--Max Dwight,” he explained hastily in an aside to -Babbie. “He’s just out of college himself, and he’s a mighty good -sort, if he does try to keep me everlastingly plugging. I say, Babbie, -are you through school yet?” - -“Through college,” Babbie corrected him with dignity. “We’re all -Harding 19--’s.” - -“Gee!” John’s face expressed deep concern. “I’m scared. Girls frighten -me to death anyhow, and four B. A.’s! Let’s stroll off somewhere by -ourselves and talk.” - -“Nonsense!” laughed Babbie. “College girls aren’t blue-stockings -nowadays. Why aren’t you a B. A. yourself, John? You were going to be a -junior the year after that summer in the mountains.” - -John nodded. “I got flunked out of my class,” he explained carelessly. -“I suppose girls never get into that fix, but plenty of fellows -do,--bright ones at that.” - -“Why, John Morton!” Babbie’s tone was very scornful. “I didn’t think -you were that kind. Oh, yes, some Harding girls get flunked out, but -none of our crowd would. We’ve got too much pride.” - -“That’s all very well to say,” John returned sulkily. “You went to -college because you wanted to, I suppose. I went because my father -wanted to and couldn’t, so he made me. I got as much fun out of it as -I could, and did as little work, and I don’t care what you think about -it.” - -“Oh, yes, you do,” said Babbie coolly. “You care a lot.” Then she -smiled and held out her hand. “Don’t let’s quarrel this morning. If -you look so glum the girls will think all I’ve said about your being -such a jolly lot is a fairy-tale. I caught a glimpse of you in Glasgow, -you know, and I wanted to climb down from the top of a two-story tram -to rush back and speak to you. But the tram started just then and I -couldn’t.” - -John laughed. “Wanting to climb down from the top of a tram to see a -fellow is certainly a proof of true friendship. We’ll have our quarrel -out some other day.” - -“All right,” Babbie agreed, leading the way back to the others. “But -you’d better settle your score with Babe and Madeline right away.” - -“Settle with Babe and Madeline,” repeated John. “What do you mean?” - -“You’re really even,” Babbie pursued, not wanting to embarrass John -immediately after their reconciliation, “because if you commented on -their stride, they came home and told Betty and me about meeting some -Dutchmen.” - -“Oh, I say!” John’s face lighted and then he blushed, as he recognized -Babe and Madeline. “You were the ones we met on the parade. I’m very -sorry. So few people know Dutch, and you were sprinting, you know.” - -The girls declared that he was quite excusable, but Babbie warned him -that he wouldn’t be safe in using even Bengali when Madeline was around. - -“And I shall have to be careful of you,” said Madeline. “Where did you -learn so many languages, Mr. Morton?” - -“Oh, dad’s in an importing business with branches all over the world, -and his agents sometimes come to New York. I like to go down to the -warehouses and talk to them, and I can manage to say a little in ten -different languages. It’s positively my only accomplishment,” added -John modestly. - -“And now please show us over my castle,” Babbie demanded. - -“May I ask by what right you claim the ownership of Dunstaffnage?” -asked Mr. Dwight laughingly. - -“Oh, I wanted a ruin,” explained Babbie, “and Madeline--Miss -Ayres--picked this one out for me. But I shan’t accept it unless it’s a -perfectly lovely one.” - -“It is, though,” John assured her. “As far as I know, it can’t be -beaten anywhere in Europe. How did you girls happen to come in by the -back way?” - -“We were glad enough to get here by any way,” laughed Babe. “Is this -the back entrance, and are you the wardens of it?” - -“No, but we’re the proud possessors of a permit from the owner to camp -on his premises,” said John. “We got tired of the Oban hotels, and -liked this beech-wood and the castle so much that we wanted to board -near by. The people at the farm down the road that you should have come -by were willing to feed us, but hadn’t any extra rooms, so I suggested -a tent--I camped all last summer up in Canada--and here we are. If -you’re going to be lady of the castle, Babbie, you’ll have to let us be -its lords.” - -“All right,” agreed Babbie, leading the way along a mossy path between -the tall beeches. Presently she gave an exclamation of dismay. “Oh, but -it’s such a very small castle! I thought it would be big and have a -rampart and a moat.” - -“That’s only the chapel, silly,” John explained. “The castle is farther -on.” - -“A chapel! Oh, what a darling one!” cried Betty. “I want the chapel for -mine, Babbie. You can have the castle.” - -“I approve your taste, Miss Wales,” said Mr. Dwight. “I think that -little ivy-covered ruin, hidden among the trees, is lovelier than any -castle. Come inside and see the stones.” - -“Whose graves are they?” asked Betty, following Mr. Dwight across the -broken threshold. - -“They’re not legibly marked, except this one. Some of the ancient -owners of the castle, I suppose.” - -“Who did own it?” asked Betty eagerly. - -“The old Scottish kings, first of all. They held their court here for -hundreds of years, and kept the famous coronation stone here--the one -that’s now in Westminster Abbey--until the Norwegians got to be too -much for them and they moved the stone to Scone. Then the Norwegians -took Dunstaffnage, and after them, their descendants, the Lords of -Argyll and Lorne. In Bruce’s time Alexander of Argyll and his son John -of Lorne were bitter enemies of the king and almost overthrew him. But -Bruce conquered John in the Pass of Brander, close by here, and shut -up old Alexander in his own castle. So the family lost their lands to -the crown, though they lived on here for over a century longer, and -James, Earl of Douglas, met the heads of the family here and tried to -induce them to join his cause. In more modern times Flora Macdonald was -imprisoned here for helping bonnie Prince Charlie to outwit his enemies -and escape to France.” - -“How interesting!” said Betty eagerly. “It just gives you thrills to -think that you’re standing on such historic ground, doesn’t it? Now I -want to see the castle.” - -While Betty and Mr. Dwight had been talking in the chapel, Babbie had -hurried the others through the wood and around to the front of the -castle where the entrance was. - -“They couldn’t have doorways on the side toward the sea,” John -explained, “because the enemy would have come in small boats, crept up -through the wood in the dark, and surrounded them.” - -“We can go inside, can’t we?” asked Babbie eagerly, and by the time -Betty appeared, Babbie and John were perched on the narrow ledge that -ran almost all the way around the top of the crumbling castle wall. - -“It’s great!” Babbie cried to the rest, making a trumpet of her hands. -“You can see ever so far. Come up, all of you!” - -So the rest, who had dropped down on the grass to rest after their long -walk, climbed the narrow, steep stone stairway and emerged on the ledge. - -As Babbie had said, it was “great” up there. The castle stood on a -promontory at the mouth of a beautiful loch--which, as the girls had -already discovered on their way up to Oban, often means simply an arm -of the sea, of which, owing to the irregularity of the coastline, there -are a great many in Scotland. You could see far up the loch in one -direction and out to the open sea in the other, and in the background -loomed great, mist-shrouded peaks, wild and terrible, with stretches -of lonely moorland in the nearer distance. - -[Illustration: “COME UP, ALL OF YOU”] - -“What is this?” asked Babe, pointing to a rusty iron standard fastened -to the top of the castle’s sea-wall. - -“That’s a beacon-holder,” Mr. Dwight told her. “In the good old days -of the Border Wars, this castle used to be a station in the chain of -signal fires. They fastened a bundle of fagots into that frame and set -them on fire, and the chief in the castle over there on one of those -purple islands, and the clan gathered on the slope of Ben Cruachan, -that highest peak up at the head of the loch, saw the fire, and knew -what it meant.” - -“What did it mean?” demanded Babe. - -“Different things at different times,” explained Mr. Dwight, “but -generally death and pillage for somebody.” - -Babbie gave a little sigh of satisfaction. “How lovely! I accept -my castle, Madeline, with many thanks. I wish it had some rooms -down-stairs to explore, and a dungeon, but it’s very nice just as it -is. It’s so absolutely unspoiled.” - -“It certainly doesn’t look much like that dreadful cottage at Ayr,” -laughed Betty. “Did you go to Ayr, Mr. Morton?” - -John nodded. “Silly little place, isn’t it? I say, Babbie, there is one -thing that this castle lacks. Dwight and I were talking about it this -morning before you came. Don’t you know what it is?” - -Babbie considered, frowning. “No, I don’t, and it isn’t nice of you to -pick flaws in my castle, John.” - -“I’m not picking flaws,” retorted John. “I’m just calling your -attention to any little defects I’ve noticed, so that you won’t accept -your castle in ignorance and live to repent your rash act later. Can’t -any of you guess what I mean?” - -“I can,” said Madeline promptly. “It ought to have a ghost. No castle -is complete without one. But are you perfectly sure this hasn’t any?” - -“I’m afraid it hasn’t,” said John solemnly. “We’ve been here three -nights now, and no ghost has walked so far. Besides I consulted the -family who live in the farm attached to the castle, and they stoutly -deny the existence of a ghost.” - -“Oh, but that doesn’t prove anything,” declared Madeline. “Don’t you -know that the lords of the castle and their retainers always deny the -existence of a ghost? They regard it as a blemish on the property.” - -“How absurd of them,” sighed Babbie. “Oh, dear, now that you’ve -mentioned it, I do want my castle to have a ghost, and I believe it has -one, too. Who knows about the history of Dunstaffnage? Wasn’t anybody -ever murdered here, or didn’t some beautiful lady pine away for love? -Those are the most likely kinds of ghosts, aren’t they, Madeline?” - -Madeline nodded. “When we get back to Oban, we’ll try to find a history -of the castle and perhaps we can unearth a ghost for you.” - -“Oh, Mr. Dwight!” Betty and Mr. Dwight held a whispered conference, -then she turned to Babbie. - -“We’ve thought of a ghost for you. Her name is Flora Macdonald. She -was imprisoned here once, because she had tried to help bonnie Prince -Charles to escape, after there was a price set on his head.” - -“And now she walks in the beech-wood?” asked Babbie eagerly. - -Betty looked questioningly at Mr. Dwight. “She ought to,” he said -laughingly, “since the fair lady of the castle wishes it. I’ll inquire -more particularly of the farm people and let you know next time you pay -a visit to your domain.” - -“I suppose we ought to be going back now,” said Babbie regretfully, -leaving her comfortable perch on the castle-wall. - -“I should think so. We’ve forgotten the strawberry tartlets,” cried -Babe in tragic tones. “It’s half-past twelve now, and our dinner is at -one.” - -“You can’t possibly make it,” said John. “You’d better stay and have a -bite with us at the farm. It isn’t elegant, but everything tastes good, -and you must be famished.” - -“We are,” sighed Madeline. - -“But we’ve got to go back for our own dinner,” declared Babe sternly. -“Miss MacNish suggested the tartlets on purpose to please us, you know, -and it wouldn’t be nice of us not to go back. It’s only three miles by -road, Mr. Morton says, so we ought to be there by a quarter past one.” - -“You won’t even stop for a drink of milk?” urged John. - -Babbie shook her head. “It would take too long. Come and see us, John, -and you too, Mr. Dwight. We’re at Daisybank Villa. I don’t know the -street, but you can ask.” - -“Oh, we’ll find it all right,” John assured her. “I say, can’t we take -some trips together, or some tramps?” - -“Of course,” Babbie promised him, hurrying after the others. “We’ll -arrange it when you come.” - -John looked after the party admiringly. “I like their spirit,” he said -to Mr. Dwight, “going back so as not to disappoint their landlady. -Babbie Hildreth is always like that--just as fair and square as any -fellow you can name. She’s jolly too--if she did graduate from college. -I say, Dwight, I’m much obliged to you for giving me the morning off, -and I’ll make up for it this afternoon, sure enough.” - -Which was such an unprecedentedly docile attitude on the part of John -Morton that his bewildered tutor hoped Babbie Hildreth and her friends -would continue to stay in Oban and exercise their beneficent influence. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -SCOTCH MISTS - - -NEXT day it rained--a dismal, drizzling sort of rain that -acted as if it never meant to stop. - -“I suppose this is a Scotch mist,” said Babe dolefully at breakfast. -“Of course we ought to enjoy it, as an experience of real Scotch -weather, but for my part I prefer a good rattling American rain-storm.” - -“We shouldn’t want to take another long walk to-day, even if it were -pleasant,” said Betty consolingly. “I shouldn’t at least. Sprinting -home after the strawberry tarts made me horribly lame.” - -“Me too,” sighed Babbie. “Also it made a hole in my shoe--the only pair -I have that are right for rough walking.” - -“Let’s put on rain-coats and go hunting a cobbler,” proposed Madeline. - -“And a history of Dunstaffnage,” added Babbie. “I asked Miss MacNish -if there was a library in Oban and she said no; so we shall have to -find a book-store.” - -“We can buy post-cards too,” put in Betty. “This is just the right kind -of day for writing letters.” - -So they tramped blithely down the hill and wandered in more leisurely -fashion along Oban’s one business street. - -“There’s a shoe-shop,” announced Babe presently. “And it says in the -window ‘Repairing done while you wait.’” - -“Goodie!” exclaimed Madeline. “Then I shall have my sole patched, too. -It’s worn terribly thin on these stony Scotch roads.” - -The smiling saleswoman showed the girls into a tiny back room, where -Madeline could sit while she waited “with one shoe off and one shoe -on.” Babbie stayed to keep her company, and Babe and Betty went off to -buy post-cards, promising to come back before long with sweet chocolate -for the captives. - -“This looks like a book-store,” said Babe, stopping before a little -shop with magazines in the window. “We might inquire about the history -of Babbie’s castle.” - -A severe-looking, heavily bearded old gentleman came out from a back -room to meet them. No, this was not a book-shop, he explained gruffly; -it was a stationer’s; there were two book-shops at the other end of the -esplanade. - -Just then Betty caught sight of some post-cards. “Oh, what lovely -cards!” she cried. “Here’s one of Dunollie, and one of Dunstaffnage, -and oh--here’s that lovely gray beach that we came down to from the -black cow’s pasture. Caernavan Sands is its name. Doesn’t that sound -romantic?” - -“My cairds are hand-teented,” said the old stationer in broad Scotch. -“They are tuppence ha’ penny each. Not that it mak’s ony deeference to -you, maybe.” - -“Tuppence ha’ penny,” repeated Babe meditatively. “That’s five -cents--cheap enough for hand-colored ones, I’m sure.” - -Betty picked out the cards she wanted from the rack, and then noticed -more piles behind the counter. - -“Oh, are there some others back there?” she asked. “May I see them, -please?” - -The old gentleman said something which Betty mistook for permission to -go behind the counter and look; but as she started to do so he barred -her way. - -“No, no, madam,” he said sternly. “You can go wherever you like in your -own country, but in my shop you stay where you belong.” - -“Oh, I beg your pardon,” said Betty meekly. “I thought you said I might -see them. I’m very, very sorry.” - -“I said I wad bring ye the ones that were deeferent from those in the -rack,” said the old man, glaring at poor Betty from under his beetling -eyebrows. - -“Let’s not buy his old cards,” muttered Babe indignantly in Betty’s ear. - -But Betty smiled and shook her head. “They’re too pretty to lose,” she -whispered. “We should be just spiting ourselves.” - -By this time the old Scotchman seemed to be a little mollified, and -condescended to ask the girls what trips they had taken from Oban and -to show them some views of Glencoe, a beautiful mountain pass, and of -Iona, the island where Saint Columba’s church is, both of which he -recommended them to visit. Babe listened in sulky silence, leaving -Betty to answer his questions and thank him for his advice. - -“Come again, leedies,” he said, as they went out, and Betty thanked him -politely for that, too. - -“Hateful old thing!” cried Babe, when they were once more outside. “The -idea of talking that way to us, just because we’re Americans. What has -he got against America, I should like to know?” - -“Never mind him,” said Betty soothingly. “His post-cards are perfectly -lovely. Now let’s get the sweet chocolate for those poor hungry girls.” - -“Oh, what fascinating little cakes,” cried Babe rapturously, stopping -before a pastry-cook’s window. “Don’t you suppose they’d rather have -those than just ordinary sweet chocolate? It would be such fun buying -them.” - -“It’s fun buying anything over here with this queer English money,” -laughed Betty. “Doesn’t it seem to you just like toy money, Babe?” - -Babe nodded. “And when I spend it I don’t feel as if I were spending -real money at all. It’s the loveliest feeling that whatever you buy -doesn’t matter a bit, as long as toy money will pay for it.” - -“Let’s buy four of the buns and three of the chocolaty ones and an odd -one for you, because you don’t like chocolate,” said Betty, returning -to the cakes. - -They got back to the shoe-shop, with their bag of cakes, just in time -to find Madeline tying on her mended shoe. - -“Let’s save the cakes till we get home,” she proposed. “We can eat -them while we’re reading about Flora Macdonald. Oh, let me see your -post-cards. What beauties! Show us where they came from, this minute.” - -“All right, only prepare to be insulted if you go inside,” said Babe, -and she told the story of their experience. - -“Crusty old party, isn’t he?” said Madeline. “Oh, I know what! I can do -a beautiful English accent. I’ll go in and make him think I’m English. -Then he’ll talk to me confidentially about America.” - -“But then I shan’t have any cards,” objected Babbie forlornly. - -“Oh, I’ll bring you some,” Madeline promised her. “Wait for me----” - -“In that Scotch plaid store over there,” supplied Babe, who never let -an interesting shop escape her notice. - -There were golf capes in the store, tweed ulsters--“Just the thing -for a Scotch mist,” said Babbie, shivering in her natty silk -rain-coat--beautiful little kilted suits for small boys to wear, and -best of all, a proprietor resplendent in full Scotch regalia--kilted -skirt, “golf” stockings, green coat, and the insignia of his clan -dangling from a belt around his waist. - -“Did you ever see anything so gorgeous,” murmured Babbie under her -breath. “These plaid silk squares will make lovely bags, girls. I’m -going to buy a Macdonald one, in memory of Flora. I do hope she will -turn out to be the ghost of my castle.” - -So Babbie timidly approached the majestic figure in plaids, who bowed -affably and did up the silk square as neatly as any ordinary salesman, -talking pleasantly meanwhile about the rain and the war-ship that had -appeared that morning in the harbor. - -The transaction was barely completed when Madeline came back, laden -with post-cards and bursting with merriment. - -“I took him in completely,” she said. “He told me all about you two -and how you acted as if you owned Oban and his shop, and how the -Americans are all millionaires and are spoiling the town, running about -everywhere, asking senseless questions and not respecting any one’s -privacy.” - -“Wouldn’t he have enjoyed seeing us get over that chicken-wire fence?” -said Babe viciously. - -“And wouldn’t he be wild if he heard Babbie refer to Dunstaffnage as -her castle?” added Betty. - -“Well, as an impartial person who hasn’t seen him,” put in Babbie, “I -think there’s a good deal in his ideas. Lots of American tourists are -frights. Wouldn’t you be mad, if you lived in Ayr, to see them swarming -around the Burns relics and turning the town into pandemonium every -pleasant day all summer?” - -“I certainly should,” admitted Babe, “but all the same I wouldn’t be -rude about it. I’d move away.” - -“Oh, but perhaps you couldn’t,” began Betty seriously. “If you were -old, you know, and your business was there----” - -Whereupon the other three burst into peals of laughter at her -earnestness, and couldn’t sober down even at the prospect of -scandalizing the bookseller as much as they had the crabbed old -stationer. But the bookseller proved to be a brisk young fellow -with an eye for trade, and no national prejudices. He sold them two -paper-covered guides to the region around Oban, which, he assured them, -would tell them all about Flora Macdonald, and all about Dunstaffnage -castle as well. He too had post-cards, and Babe bought some, “on -principle,” she explained, because he was so very agreeable to -Americans. - -After dinner it rained harder than ever, so the girls gathered in Miss -MacNish’s parlor, the use of which, they had discovered, went with -“lodgings.” They had exhausted the guide-books, written on most of -their post-cards, decided to go to Iona on the first pleasant day, if -there ever was one, and were beginning to feel very dull indeed, when -Miss MacNish’s funny little maid appeared to say that there were two -gentlemen down-stairs; and should she bring them right up? - -“It’s John and Mr. Dwight, of course,” said Babbie gleefully. “Isn’t -it jolly of them to come all this way through the rain to see us?” - -“We got drowned out,” John explained. “It’s the first rain since we -began to camp, and we found it most horribly wetting. So we folded our -tent like the Arabs, silently stole with it to the farmer’s barn, and -took up our quarters at the hotel nearest Daisybank Villa. And here we -are.” - -“Wad ye like an early tea for your friends?” inquired Miss MacNish, -smilingly appearing in the doorway; and Babbie said yes, if it was -perfectly convenient. - -“We were hoping you’d ask us to tea,” confessed Mr. Dwight laughingly. -“We’ve become horribly bored with each other’s society, haven’t we, J.?” - -“And we were getting bored with ours,” retorted Madeline. “A rainy day -is a dreadful strain on the tourist’s temper, isn’t it?” - -“Well, don’t you think it’s going to clear up to-morrow?” demanded John -anxiously. “Because if it does, and if Mrs. Hildreth doesn’t object, we -were hoping you’d go on some sort of excursion with us.” - -“How jolly!” cried Babbie, and suggested Iona. But the men had been -there, and John objected to going anywhere in a crowd. - -“What I meant was to go off somewhere just as we did that summer in the -woods, not looking for scenery or for storied castles, but just for a -jolly good time and a good tramp--or a drive if you girls prefer that.” - -Babbie twisted her face into an expression of puzzled amusement. “Oh, -John Morton, you are so funny,” she gasped. “You mean you want to -forget you’re in Scotland and pretend you’re in America, so you can go -on a plain American picnic.” - -“I object to plain,” said John promptly. “I insist on having -extra-super eats on any picnic that I honor with my presence. Stop -laughing, Babbie. I don’t see anything so funny in wanting to go on a -picnic.” - -“Well, probably there isn’t,” admitted Babbie, “only I never went on -one before in Europe, and I never heard of any one else who did. But I -think it will be great fun.” - -“And that’s what we’re here for,” added Madeline promptly. “We’re not -the kind of tourists who bore themselves with solid days of ruins and -museums and galleries that they’d never think of visiting if they -were in New York. We hope to improve our minds when it’s perfectly -agreeable, but we’re all against cramming.” - -“Why, Madeline Ayres,” cried Betty eagerly, “you know you were the -worst crammer in 19--.” - -“The best, you mean, my child,” Madeline corrected her. “Well, now that -I’m a full-fledged B. A., I see the error of my ways, and I am resolved -not to cram on the British museum when we get to it.” - -“Everybody stop disputing,” commanded Babe, “and decide about the eats.” - -“Let’s cook something,” suggested Madeline. “I hate cold luncheons.” - -“It’s just the weather for a bacon-bat,” said Betty. - -“Then let’s have one by all means,” Mr. Dwight seconded her. “I don’t -know what it is, but it certainly sounds appetizing.” - -“It’s great,” Babe assured him. “You roast the bacon on sticks, and -have rolls and pickles and things to go with it, and coffee, of course. -We used to have them all winter in Harding when it wasn’t too snowy.” - -“All right,” said John, “a bacon-bat it shall be. We’ll get the things -in the morning when we start off. Now the next question is, shall we -walk or ride?” - -“Let’s walk,” said Babe. “We’re all crazy over walking. Unless--would -your mother go if we rode, Babbie?” - -But Mrs. Hildreth, who appeared just then, having heard from Miss -MacNish about the early tea, said she was sure that even if it cleared -off in the morning it would be too damp for her idea of a picnic, so it -was finally decided to walk. - -As soon as tea was over, John declared that he must go. “Got to bone -this evening to make up for taking part of to-morrow morning off,” he -explained, blushing and looking sheepishly at Mr. Dwight. - -“I’m glad to see that you pay in advance for your fun, John,” said Mrs. -Hildreth. “It’s the best way.” - -“I guess you’re right, Mrs. Hildreth,” said John. “Anyhow I’m -experimenting on it just at present. We’ll be here at eleven sharp, -Babbie.” - -Next morning every one of the girls got up long before Daisybank’s -breakfast hour to have a look at the weather. At least it wasn’t -raining, and the sun might come out by eleven. - -“Besides, who cares for the weather?” inquired Babe calmly, lacing up -her heaviest shoes. “We can’t waste another day moping around indoors.” - -“We’d better take the ‘last resorts’ though,” said Betty. “The wood -will all be wet.” - -“Lucky mother insisted on bringing two of them,” said Babbie. “Now we -can have one for the bacon and one for the coffee.” - -The sun wasn’t shining at eleven; indeed the sky was very gray, and -John and Mr. Dwight looked dubious as they turned in at Daisybank -Villa. But they were pleasantly disappointed at finding the four girls -arrayed in sweaters and tam-o’-shanters, all ready to start. - -“We’ve bought the lunch, too,” explained Babe, thrusting a bulky parcel -into John’s arms. “We thought we shouldn’t have any too much time to -get well out into the country before it was time to eat.” - -When they had gone about two miles across the moors, John, who was -ahead with Betty, stopped short. “Did you make it a bacon-bat?” he -demanded anxiously. - -“Yes,” answered Betty. - -“Weren’t we elected to make it that?” asked Madeline. - -“Then we shall starve,” declared John tragically. “Look at your skirts. -How are we going to make a fire with everything dripping wet like this?” - -“Oh, is that your trouble!” Babe gave a sigh of relief, which the -others echoed. “Why, we’ve brought the ‘last resorts’ along. You don’t -know what they are, do you? It’s private Harding slang. Let’s camp on -the top of that lovely steep cliff, with the purple heather on top of -it, and then we’ll show you about ‘last resorts.’” - -So they settled themselves on the rocks, Babe produced the two -chafing-dish lamps, and a flask of alcohol from somewhere inside her -sweater,--she and Bob always tucked things away in mysterious places to -leave their hands free,--and Mr. Dwight obligingly held the coffee-pot -over one lamp, while Babbie arranged the table on a flat rock, and the -rest threaded thin slices of bacon on to pointed sticks and squabbled -merrily for a chance to hold them near the flame of the other lamp. -Miss MacNish had given them scones instead of rolls, and raspberry -tartlets for dessert, so it wasn’t quite an American picnic after all. -But it was a perfectly satisfactory one, John declared. - -“Are all Harding girls like your crowd?” he asked Babe on the way home. - -Babe considered laughingly. “How do you mean?” - -“Oh, jolly, and up to things, not minding if you get your skirts wet -going ’cross country, and knowing about ‘last resorts,’ and all that.” - -“Well, of course we always thought we were a little jollier than any -other crowd,” Babe explained modestly. “We called ourselves ‘The -Merry Hearts,’ you know, and we had all the fun there was going, I -guess--especially Bob Parker and Babbie and I.” - -John’s face darkened suddenly. “I thought from something Babbie -said--did you go in hard for honors and all that?” - -“I didn’t,” said Babe sturdily. “I just managed to keep along. I’m not -a bit clever, you see, but the others are--except Betty, perhaps, and -she was always right up in her work. Helen Adams and Madeline were -prods. in lit. and themes, and Eleanor Watson was fine in everything -after she settled down to work. Babbie was the brightest kind of a star -in the languages, and Bob and K. Kittredge were in all the scientific -societies. Oh, and Roberta Lewis was a wonderful actress and Rachel -Morrison was considered the best all-around student in 19--. Everybody -but me was in Clio or Dramatic Club.” - -“I think you were wise to stay out,” said John carelessly. “I don’t -believe in killing yourself with work, just for a few empty honors.” - -“Empty honors!” Babe’s brown eyes flashed. “Do you think honors are -empty in a girl’s college? I should like to have been a star too, I -can tell you. I never got a condition, but once I was warned and I had -several low-grades. I was just awfully ashamed of them. I hate messing -things.” Babe paused, suddenly remembering that Babbie had said vaguely -that Mr. Dwight was coaching John Morton for some examinations, and -that John had spoken of having work to do. “I hope I haven’t hurt -your feelings,” she murmured. “Babbie said you were studying--you -said--well, anyhow I never thought that maybe you’d flunked some -courses. I’m sorry. Call it quits for what you said about my walk, -won’t you?” - -“I thought you were even for that already. How about having thought I -was a Dutchman?” - -“I never,” said Babe laughingly. “That was Madeline. I’ve never seen a -Dutchman that I know of, so I couldn’t think either way.” - -“All right then. Anyhow I don’t mind your saying what you think. Yes, -I did flunk--got to do senior year over again. You see I went with -a crowd of fellows who were just there for the fun of it, and I got -careless and began coaching too late. I believe you’re right about -messing things.” - -“John, Miss Hildreth wants to see her castle by moonlight,” called Mr. -Dwight. “Do you think we could arrange it?” - -“Why, there’s nothing to hinder if the moon’s willing--she is, isn’t -she? Unless Mrs. Hildreth objects, at least. We could drive out right -after tea, or we could drive out in the afternoon and have tea there. -What do you say, Babbie?” - -Babbie refused to be interested in tea. “I’m hoping my ghost will -walk,” she explained. “I don’t think you gave her a fair trial. Ghosts -prefer to walk by moonlight; it’s so much more becoming.” - -“We’ll go day after to-morrow,” said Mr. Dwight. “That’s the night for -a full moon.” - -“And we’ll give the ghost the fairest kind of a fair trial,” added -Madeline, and immediately engaged in a low-toned conversation with Mr. -Dwight, who was convulsed with merriment at something she told him. The -two kept quite by themselves all the rest of the way home, and when -Babe demanded to know the joke, they only smiled mysteriously and said -it would take too long to explain. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -THE GHOST OF DUNSTAFFNAGE - - -“WILL I chaperon a moonlight expedition to your castle? Babbie -dear, what mad scheme will you think of next?” - -Babbie gave her mother a loving little hug. “I didn’t think of it -all by myself--we all thought of it together, including John and Mr. -Dwight. Isn’t it a nice idea, mummie? Aren’t you crazy to see your -daughter’s castle by the witching light of the full moon?” - -Mrs. Hildreth laughed and hugged Babbie. “I certainly am. It’s -extremely interesting to have a castle in the family. You’re sure -you’re not finding Oban dull, girls? I’m quite rested now from the -voyage, and we can go on to London and Paris as fast as you like.” - -“Oban dull!” echoed four amazed voices. - -“Why, mummie, it’s perfectly splendid!” Babbie explained eagerly. “You -must come with us this morning and see the cottages back behind the -hill--they’re just smothered in honeysuckle. And yesterday we found -where the shooting that we hear so often comes from. There’s a target -back there, and funny little soldiers in plaids--think of fighting real -battles in kilts, mummie!--shoot at it every afternoon.” - -“And Sunday Mr. MacNish is going to take us to a Gaelic service at the -Free Kirk,” put in Betty. “He’s lent Madeline a Gaelic primer, so she -can learn to say good-morning to the people at the church in their own -old-time language.” - -“This is an open day for Fingal’s castle,” suggested Madeline. “Mrs. -Hildreth ought to see that, so she can compare it with yours, Babbie.” - -“Come on, dear. Get your hat this very minute,” Babbie commanded. “When -you’re traveling with four B. A.’s you can’t waste time.” - -“‘B. A.’s Abroad’--wouldn’t that be a nice title for the journal -Madeline is keeping for us?” suggested Babe. “It’s so--so--what do you -call a thing that sounds like that?” - -“Alliterative,” answered Betty promptly. “I looked up that word in -the fall of freshman year because Mary Brooks said it about Katherine -Kittredge of Kankakee.” - -“But if we have that title,” objected Babbie, “we shall have to live -up to it. I read over the Glasgow chapter last evening, and it sounds -pretty frivolous for B. A.’s.” - -“Frivolous!” sighed Madeline, “when I put in all Babe’s lofty -sentiments about the poetry of Burns, and a whole paragraph on our -interest in Gothic architecture. Besides, why shouldn’t we be frivolous -now and then? Nobody can accuse us of not seeing what’s to be seen, and -think how industriously we’ve read up on Flora Macdonald.” - -“For fun,” objected Babe. - -“If you can make play out of work you’ve learned the art of true -happiness,” declared Madeline. “Isn’t that the gospel of Bohemia and of -Harding, as I’ve been expounding it for four long and weary years? By -the way, Mr. Dwight said he might be up this afternoon, so I suppose -I’d better not go out until later.” - -“You and Mr. Dwight are getting awfully chummy,” said Babe. But it was -no fun teasing Madeline about men, because she never cared enough -even to listen to what one was saying. Now she answered coolly that it -was lucky Mr. Dwight hadn’t made his announcement more general, since -it had turned out to be such a perfect afternoon for a walk. After -the rest were safely out of the way she went to find Miss MacNish, -who looked very much amazed when Madeline explained what articles she -wanted, but got them for her all the same, and helped her do them up -into a neat parcel, which Mr. Dwight smuggled out through the garden -just as the others were coming in by the front gate. - -At four o’clock the next afternoon John drew up the finest pair of -horses to be hired in Oban with a grand flourish in front of Daisybank -Villa, and Mr. Dwight helped Mrs. Hildreth and the girls to climb into -the high seats of the trap, while Miss MacNish stowed away a tea-basket -and all sorts of inviting looking boxes and bundles under their feet. - -“Do ye ken that all American lassies are like these?” she asked her -little maid, as they stood at the gate waving a farewell to the -picnickers. “They’re verra nice lodgers--but they do take some crazy -notions,” she added grimly, remembering Madeline’s confidence of the -afternoon before. - -“I’m glad we have plenty of time to-day,” said Babbie, with a little -sigh of satisfaction, when, after a brisk drive, they drew up in the -castle yard. “I want to go all through the beech-wood, and climb down -the cliffs to the edge of the water, and sit on the parapet and imagine -that I’m a Norwegian princess waiting for her lover who’s coming from -across the sea in a little boat with a white sail.” - -“Goodness, how romantic!” sniffed Babe. “Where are we going to have -tea?” - -“Mrs. Hildreth, you decide that,” said John. “When you’ve chosen a spot -we’ll pile the baskets and things near it, and then I’m going back to -the farm to get an armful of wood for the signal-fire. Your forest -is too well kept, Babbie. There are no twigs on the ground for the -convenience of the ship-wrecked mariner who wants to signal the nearest -dwelling for help. It’s a shame.” - -“Miss Ayres and I will get your wood,” suggested Mr. Dwight. “I’ve -promised to take her to the farm to see if any of the family knows how -to speak Gaelic.” - -“All right,” agreed John. “I’m not a bit keen for carrying wood. Be -sure you bring enough, though; we want a rattling big signal, you know. -Now Mrs. Hildreth, let me show you the chapel.” - -It was a delightful go-as-you-please picnic. Babe went wading in a -pool after sea-anemones. Betty lay on a sunny slope dreaming of all -the good times she had been having and was going to have all summer. -Madeline and Mr. Dwight sat on the parapet and quarreled amicably over -the right way to “lay” a signal-fire. Babbie and John conducted Mrs. -Hildreth over the castle domain, and when she was tired they decorated -the tea-table--a slab of rock on a sunny slope by the sea--with sprays -of white heather, which is supposed always to bring good luck to those -who wear it. After tea they all sat together watching the sunset, -while Madeline told them a quaint folk-tale that an old grannie at the -farmhouse had told her, all about ghosts and fairies and gnomes who -lived on the islands in the firth. - -“She wouldn’t answer when we asked her about a ghost for this castle,” -Madeline added solemnly. “She just shook her head and muttered -something about ‘trailing white robes.’ Just then her daughter came -in with the wood, and the old woman shut up like a clam. The daughter -thinks Gaelic and ghosts are all rubbish.” Madeline stood up. “It must -be lovely on the parapet now.” - -“It’s lovely here,” said Babe dreamily, and the party broke up again. - -So it happened that Babe, who was the last to leave the shadowy -beech-wood, was alone down by the little chapel when she saw the ghost. -It was quite across the wood by the wall, when she first noticed it, -and in the dusk she thought of course it was Babbie, who was wearing a -white serge suit and a big white hat. - -“Aren’t you coming to watch the moon rise with the others?” Babe called -to her. But the figure didn’t answer, only came slowly nearer, groping -its way uncertainly among the tree trunks. Presently Babe noticed that -the white dress it wore hung in long, loose folds around it, quite -differently from Babbie’s suit, that it was much taller than she, and -that it carried something dark in one outstretched hand. - -“It’s a trick of the others. They know I’m here alone, and they’ve sent -Madeline down to scare me,” Babe reflected indignantly. - -“I know you now, Miss Madeline Ghost,” she called across to the figure, -“so you may as well take off that white shawl of Mrs. Hildreth’s and -come with me to the parapet to see the moon rise.” - -The ghostly figure was quite near now, but if it was Madeline it had no -intention of letting Babe know it. It came on silently to within a few -paces of where she stood waiting, and then suddenly and without warning -a pitiful little moaning cry broke the stillness of the wood,--a sound -like the stifled, smothered sobbing of some one in terrible anguish. - -Babe listened for a minute to the gruesome moaning. Then, “Oh, I say, -that’s too much,” she protested indignantly. “You’re giving me the -creeps, Madeline Ayres, honestly you are. Please stop.” There was real -terror in Babe’s appeal, but the ghost paid no heed. The moaning went -on softly, incessantly, just as before. - -Babe hesitated a moment longer, and then, pocketing her pride, she -fled up the path to the castle. Out of the wood she ran, across the -grassy slope, and up the winding stone stairs, as if she thought the -ghost was close behind her. Near the top of the flight she paused -for breath. “Don’t care if they did see me,” she muttered angrily, -brushing the hair out of her face and assuring herself that the ghost -had not followed. “It’s a mean trick to scare any one like that. It’s -dangerous, really it is.” But they hadn’t seen her mad race through -the wood. Apparently they hadn’t even missed her. They were all, the -whole six of them, Madeline included, gathered in an eager group around -the signal-fire, which wouldn’t burn, in spite of John’s most valiant -efforts, because the wind was so strong. - -“Oh, Babe, was there any alcohol left?” asked Madeline, glancing up as -Babe came toward them. She was stooping in front of the beacon-holder, -with her skirt spread out to shelter the struggling little flame. “I -don’t think there could be any harm in pouring a little on this wood, -do you, Mrs. Hildreth?” she went on. “There’s nothing up here to take -fire.” - -“I don’t remember noticing about the alcohol,” answered Babe, making a -valiant effort not to catch her breath. - -“I’ll go and look,” volunteered Betty. - -“No, let me.” John sprang forward. - -“You’d never find the flask,” objected Betty, “or if you did you’d mix -up everything in the tea-basket.” - -“Then we’ll go together,” said John, and Babe breathed a sigh of -relief. She couldn’t have let Betty go back there alone without warning -her and she hated to admit that she had been frightened by--what could -it have been anyway, since it wasn’t Madeline in Mrs. Hildreth’s white -shawl? Mrs. Hildreth had on her shawl at that very moment. - -Betty and John were gone some time, and when they finally appeared Babe -knew at once that they had seen the lady in white. - -“Oh, Babbie,” Betty began tremulously, “there is a ghost attached to -your castle--or at least a something. It’s down in the edge of the -wood, near the lawn where we left the basket. And it’s moaning in the -most horrible way.” - -“Truly?” Babbie appealed to John. - -“Sure. It’s not a ghost, of course, but it’s somebody all right, in a -long white cloak sort of thing, with one hand stretched out, holding -something red. The way it cries is certainly spooky,” added John, with -a forced laugh. - -Madeline exchanged swift glances with Mr. Dwight. “‘A trailing white -robe and a sob in the night’--that was what the old crone said, wasn’t -it? And there was nothing there when you came up, Babe?” - -“Oh, I saw it,” said Babe with careful unconcern, “but of course it -can’t be a ghost--nobody believes in ghosts nowadays. I thought it was -one of you girls trying to frighten me.” - -“Maybe it’s a white cow,” suggested Babbie. “They make queer noises -sometimes. Don’t you remember that the fierce black one did?” - -But this suggestion was received with great contempt by all three -of the ghost-seers, who declared excitedly that they could tell the -difference between a cow and a woman, even if it was a little dusky in -the wood. - -“Well, of course I don’t want it to turn out to be a cow,” Babbie -explained apologetically. “But it seems too good to be true that it’s a -ghost. I’m going down to find it this very minute.” - -“Alone?” inquired Babe gravely. - -“No, indeed,” interposed Mrs. Hildreth promptly, when Madeline pointed -down to the open lawn below them. - -“You don’t need to go down, Babbie. Look there.” - -The white figure was coming slowly, silently out from behind a clump of -tall bushes. The moon had risen above the trees, and shone full on the -little lawn in front of the castle, making it almost as bright as day. -Slowly, silently the white figure came forward, trailing its robe over -the short grass, one hand held aloft, its gaze fastened on what the -hand held--a bright bit of cloth, it seemed to be. When it had reached -the centre of the lawn, the figure paused and throwing back its head, -so that the moonlight fell full on its face--the sweet, sad face of a -young girl--it began the uncanny moaning that had sent Babe flying to -find her friends. - -“Gaelic,” whispered Madeline under her breath. “I heard the words for -love and grief.” - -“She’s changed to English now,” whispered Mr. Dwight after a minute. -“She’s crying, ‘My prince, my prince, my prince,’ over and over.” - -“What’s that in her hand?” asked Babe, who was clinging tight to Betty. - -“It’s a bit of Scotch plaid, isn’t it?” Babbie answered. “That pretty -red kind----” - -“The royal Stuart,” supplied Madeline. - -“Then it is Flora Macdonald.” In her excitement Babbie forgot to speak -low. “And she’s kept a bit of the Stuart plaid in memory of the prince -whose life she saved. She was in love with him, of course, and she got -him off to France, and he forgot her. And they locked her up here right -afterward, when she was feeling the worst about having him gone. Oh, -it all fits in beautifully! How can you help believing in ghosts after -this?” - -“How, indeed?” agreed Madeline drily. “Oh, ghost!” She raised her -voice. “Come up on the turret of yon gray donjon, and help us toast -marshmallows in the blaze of the beacon light.” - -“Madeline!” chorused three indignant voices, while John burst into -peals of laughter and Mrs. Hildreth, who had been let into Madeline’s -secret, reproached the girls for having been so gullible. - -“Though it was a very effective ghost,” she admitted, “and Madeline’s -awe-struck face, as she repeated the old woman’s description, was -capital.” - -“Don’t blame it all on me,” protested Madeline. “Mr. Dwight is a fellow -conspirator.” - -“But you thought of it,” Mr. Dwight reminded her, “and you planned -where we should get a ghost, and you coached her for the part. I only -smuggled out the costume, consisting of a pair of Miss MacNish’s best -linen sheets, and introduced Miss Ayres and the ghost down at the -farmhouse. Here she is, by the way. Miss MacBrague, come and meet your -admiring audience and receive their congratulations. You took everybody -in.” - -Then there were introductions, explanations, and questions all at -once. Madeline had to tell how she had thought of evoking a spectre -to complete Babbie’s castle, but knew she should be discovered at once -if she or any one else in the picnic-party was missing when the ghost -appeared. Mr. Dwight had suggested Miss MacBrague, who lived down the -road with her grandparents, and was interested in the old folk-tales of -the countryside. Miss MacBrague apologized prettily for her performance. - -“I dinna go to the play,” she said. “I havena seen the great actors as -ye have. I did only just as Miss Ayres showed me, and the crying is -like the crying that the old people do at the graves. I am verra glad -if it pleased ye, and I hope ye were na really frighted,” turning to -Babe. - -“You ought to go on the stage. You’re a perfectly splendid actress,” -Babe declared fervently. “But it’s mean of you to oblige me to confess -how I ran away from you.” - -And then there were more questions and explanations, and the laugh was -on Babe. - -Between times they had toasted all the marshmallows, though Babbie -protested that it was taking a mean advantage of her beacon-holder to -turn it to such base uses; and at last Mrs. Hildreth said it was time -to start back. They dropped little Miss MacBrague at her home after -having received her thanks for “th’ gae good time ye’ve given me,” and -made her promise to come and see them in Oban, and drove briskly home, -for the sky had clouded over, and the air was full of rain. - -“Never mind,” said Babbie jubilantly. “I can feel the curl walking out -of my feather, but who cares for a little thing like that? Never as -long as I live shall I forget the lovely, thrilly, creepy feeling that -came over me when I saw my very own ghost walking out of the beech-wood -in the moonlight.” - -“I say, that was rather fine, wasn’t it?” said John. “You girls are -certainly keeping out of the rut of ordinary European travel.” - -“That’s because we have dominant interests,” explained Madeline. “Mine -is tea-rooms, Babbie’s is evidently ghosts, and Babe’s is--let me -see--chimney-pots.” - -“I’m going to change,” Babe protested in the general laugh that -followed. “I chose in too much of a hurry. I want an interest that -you can follow up. You can’t follow up chimney-pots. They’re all right -there on the surface.” - -“On the roofs, you mean,” laughed John, “and only chimney-sweeps can -penetrate their inner mysteries. What’s your specialty, Miss Wales?” - -“I haven’t any yet,” explained Betty. “I’m hoping mine will turn up -before long, though.” - -“Oh, we’ll find you something in London,” Madeline promised her easily. -“There is something for everybody in London.” - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -BETTY DISCOVERS HER SPECIALTY - - -“STAYING in lodgings in a villa by the sea is awfully English, -but so are a lot of other things,” said Madeline briskly. “We’ve seen -about all there is to see in this neighborhood, and I think we ought to -be pushing on.” - -It was nearly a week after the ghost party. The girls had spent the -two really pleasant days in visiting Glencoe and Iona, both of which -were so lovely that Betty had insisted upon calling on the crusty old -stationer to thank him for suggesting them. Now they were gathered in -the sitting-room, Baedekers in hand, holding a conclave on where to go -next. - -“Oh, dear!” sighed Babe. “It’s been so jolly here! I wish we could -settle down for all summer. But of course I know it would be silly to -come way across the ocean and then just stick in one spot.” - -“John’s not going to stay all summer, Babe,” said Babbie pointedly, -for during the week the friendship between the man-hater and the -woman-hater had progressed marvelously. - -“Isn’t he?” Babe’s tone was as unconcerned as if she had not solemnly -promised to furnish John with a dated itinerary of their trip, and to -write him the very minute they changed their plans. - -“Dwight thinks we ought to stay on here till he’s finished coaching -me,” John had told her mournfully; “because there are so few -distractions to take a fellow’s mind from his work. But it will be -deadly dull after you’ve gone.” - -“Have you a lot more to do?” Babe had asked. - -“No. If I boned hard, I think I could finish in two weeks.” - -“Then why in the world don’t you bone hard?” demanded Babe bluntly. -“Then you can do as you please all the rest of the summer, can’t you?” - -John nodded. “After he gets me off his hands, Dwight’s going to study -at the British Museum and then at some big library in Paris. He’s -getting material for his doctor’s thesis. I’m going to keep with him -for a while and then join the governor somewhere and go home with him -in time to start in at the same old grind next fall. I don’t envy -myself the trip across, either,” sighed John. - -“Why not?” demanded Babe. “You ought to like traveling with your -father.” - -John shrugged his shoulders. “He’ll be in the very dickens of a temper -by that time. You see he’s been sent over here by his doctor for a long -vacation, and he’s raging around Europe in his automobile, getting -madder and madder every minute, because he’s on strict orders to do -nothing but loaf, and he doesn’t dare to disobey instructions.” - -“He’ll like it when he gets started,” suggested Babe, soothingly. - -“Never,” laughed John. “You don’t know my father. The very mention of -a vacation affects him just the way Miss Wales’s red cap did that old -Scotch cow. You ought to see the letters he writes me. They get fiercer -and fiercer each time.” - -“Well, if he’s that kind it will please him to know that you’re -working hard. So I advise you all the more to pitch in and hustle -through,” Babe had finished, forcibly if not elegantly. “Give yourself -two weeks--or three, to be perfectly safe--and then dare yourself to -finish.” - -“If I did that, I’d probably want to go sailing all the time, or I’d -dawdle over an exciting novel and forget all about my limit.” - -“I haven’t much use for a person who dares himself and then loses,” -said Babe coolly. “Are you that sort?” - -John did not answer at all at the time, but on the day the girls left -Oban he took Babe to one side. “Meet you anywhere you like three weeks -from day before yesterday,” he announced gaily. - -“Good for you!” returned Babe. “I’ll keep you posted.” - -“Here’s a pin to remind you of your promise,” said John, holding out a -stick-pin set with a Scotch cairngorm. “Girls have such short memories.” - -“They haven’t any shorter memories than boys,” declared Babe -indignantly. “I’m just as much obliged for the pin, but I don’t need -it.” - -“Take it as a souvenir of Oban, then,” urged John. - -Babe looked longingly at the sparkling yellow stone. “Do you take back -what you said about girls’ memories?” - -“Well, perhaps I don’t know much about the general run of girls,” John -qualified. “Babbie Hildreth remembers her promises all right, and I’m -sure you do.” - -“You’re the one that’s likely not to be able to keep this particular -promise,” said Babe, pinning the cairngorm into her blue tie, which -showed it off to perfection. “You mustn’t come, you know, unless you’ve -finished your work. College boys are such dreadful idlers.” - -“They’re not,” declared John hotly. “I’ll show you that this one isn’t, -anyhow.” - -“All right,” laughed Babe. “And I’ll show you that my memory isn’t -short. Then we shall be quits again.” - -Babe wrote Bob all about the cairngorm pin, but she didn’t mention it -to her traveling companions. Babbie would think she was silly to talk -about it. She knew such loads of men, and they were always giving her -flowers and pretty trinkets. So merely to avoid discussion Babe said -nothing at all about the matter, letting the rest think that she had -bought the pin herself as a memento of her dear Oban. - -“Nothing else will be quite so nice!” she sighed as the train pulled -out of the little station, and the others all felt a little the same -way,--except Madeline, of course, who always loved beginnings. - -“Why do we stay at Glasgow to-night?” she said. “We’ve done that -already. Let’s take Mrs. Hildreth to a farewell tea at Miss Jelliff’s, -and then go on to Balloch. There’s an inn there with the loveliest -name--Tullichewan Inn. Doesn’t that sound quaint and out-of-the-way? -Then we shall be one station further on toward the Trossachs, and we -shan’t have to get up so early in the morning.” - -“That argument appeals to me,” laughed Mrs. Hildreth, and it was -settled to go on to Balloch. - -“What are the Trossachs, anyway?” inquired Betty plaintively. “People -have talked to me about the Trossachs ever since I knew I was coming -to Scotland, but when I’ve asked just what they were, I never could -find out.” - -“This guide-book says that the word means ‘bristling country,’” Babbie -explained. “All the hills that you coach over are thickly wooded. There -are lakes, too, but I guess they haven’t anything to do with the name.” - -Next day Babe amended the definition to “dripping country.” Scotch -mists alternated with unmistakable showers all day, the hills were -hidden behind thick mantles of gray fog, and the picturesque little -lakes looked forlorn enough, with the big rain-drops pattering down on -their placid waters. - -“Catechism for travelers,” announced Babe. “Query one: How do you go -through the Trossachs? Answer: In a rain. I know what you’re going to -say, Betty, but I’ve talked to all the people on board who’ve been -through before or who’ve had friends who’ve been through, and that’s -the correct answer. Query two: What is a Trossach coach? Answer: A -place where everybody’s umbrella drips on everybody else and pokes your -hat off, and you wish you were snug at home by the fire. Besides, they -aren’t coaches at all; they’re nothing but four-seated mountain-wagons. -And I thought coaching was going to be one of the most glorious joys -of the summer!” Babe sighed and carefully emptied the water out of the -wrinkles in her ulster. - -But the coaching trip through the English lakes satisfied Babe’s most -extravagant anticipations. It came after a commonplace, very rainy -week in Edinburgh, where everybody was too busy getting over colds -caught in the Trossachs rain-storm to make any progress with “dominant -interests.” It was a lovely, sparkling morning, and the coach which was -to take them from Keswick to Windermere was a real coach, with seats -inside for any one who was foolish enough to want them, seats on top -which commanded a splendid view of the pretty English country, and a -red-coated, red-faced English coachman who dropped his h’s and cracked -his long whip in exactly the approved story-book fashion. But the most -exciting part of the day came when they stopped for lunch at the little -village of Grasmere. - -“Three whole hours!” cried Babbie joyously. “Mother doesn’t feel -like exploring, so she’s going to wait for us at the inn. Have lunch -whenever you’re ready, mummie. If Wordsworth’s Dove Cottage and the old -church where he’s buried are too fascinating we may decide to save time -by lunching aboard the coach on fruit and sweet chocolate.” - -“I’m terribly afraid Dove Cottage will be like Burns’ birthplace,” -said Madeline, as they started off. “Another maxim for travelers: Be -cautious about poets’ homes. Anyhow Wordsworth never stayed in the -house when he could help it on a day like this--I’m sure he didn’t. -Let’s walk up that fascinating shady road first. It looks as if it led -to something interesting.” - -“Now Madeline,” protested Betty, “how does a road that leads to -something interesting look different from one that doesn’t?” - -“How indeed, man from Cook’s?” Babbie joined her, and the dispute waxed -so warm that finally Madeline asked a little girl, who was eyeing them -shyly over a garden fence, where this particular road went. - -“Proves my point,” she announced triumphantly. “It goes to Easdale -Tarn.” - -“What’s a tarn?” asked Babe. “A lake? Then it doesn’t prove anything at -all. Some lakes are interesting and some aren’t.” - -“Don’t quarrel, children,” interposed Betty. “When we get to the tarn -we can see whether it’s interesting.” - -“But who knows how far it is?” objected Babbie. “Have we time to walk -to it?” - -The small girl had run off to play by this time, but a little old -lady was pottering about among the flowers in another garden, and she -told the girls that the tarn was only a mile away and showed them a -cross-cut through the meadows. - -Beyond that the road turned into a path and climbed up hills, and then -down again, but mostly up, so that following it was hot and tiresome -work. - -“Maybe I’m not hungry,” sighed Babe. “Do you see that comfortable white -farmhouse? When we go back let’s stop there and have lunch. They’d -surely give us bread and milk out of pity for our famished state.” - -“All right,” agreed Madeline, “but we’ve got to hurry right along now.” - -Just then the path curved sharply, and around the turn they came -suddenly upon an elderly gentleman who was sitting on a big stone, -fanning himself with his Panama hat. - -“My word!” he exclaimed, when he saw the girls. “What in creation are -you young ladies doing away off here?” - -Babbie was ahead. “Going to Easdale Tarn,” she explained demurely. -“This is the right road, isn’t it?” - -“Bless me, I don’t know,” said the elderly gentleman. “Never heard of -Easdale Tarn till you mentioned it. My doctor told me to take a walk -every day, and I chose this road because I happened to see it.” - -“It’s rather hilly, isn’t it?” said Babe, who was quite out of breath. - -The gentleman jumped up and waved a hand at his stone seat. “Sit down -and get rested,” he commanded so peremptorily that Babe obeyed without -a word. - -“You too.” He pointed at Betty, who sank down beside Babe. - -“I admire your energy,” the old gentleman went on briskly. “I always -admire energy. But in this case it also excites my curiosity. Why are -you all so anxious to go to Easdale Tarn?” - -“To find out if it’s interesting,” explained Babe, and told the whole -story of the dispute about the road. - -The old gentleman laughed heartily, and then he sighed. “Wish I could -get as excited as that about this milk-and-water scenery. Well, run -along and find your tarn,--all but you,” indicating Betty. “You’re too -tired to go any further. You’d better stay right here with me until the -others get back.” - -“I am tired,” admitted Betty, blushing furiously, “but I think I’d -better go on. You said you were taking a walk, and I don’t want to keep -you----” - -“I said my doctor told me to take walks,” interposed the old gentleman -irascibly. “At present I am sitting here enjoying the view, or, to -speak quite truthfully, staring at the view without seeing it, and -wishing I were back in New York.” - -“But Betty wants to see the tarn too,” urged Babe, who resented such -autocratic methods. “Come on, Betty. You can rest all the afternoon in -the coach.” - -Betty half rose, hesitated, and then something in the rather wistful -smile that the old gentleman gave her from under his bushy eyebrows -made her decide to stay. - -“I’m afraid I am too tired to enjoy seeing anything more, even if it’s -interesting,” she told the girls. “So if you’re sure you won’t mind -waiting, sir--it’s rather lonely here to stay alone.” - -“I assure you it will be only a pleasure to wait with you,” declared -the old gentleman with fine, old-fashioned courtesy. “Solitary walks -are a dull sort of amusement.” - -So while the rest went in pursuit of the tarn Betty talked to the old -gentleman. He was traveling alone, it seemed, for his health, and he -hated traveling, hated doctors, and despised himself for having let one -of them bundle him off willy-nilly, like a molly-coddle old woman who -had nothing in the world to do but count her pulse and worry about her -digestion. - -“But don’t you think you’d get well faster if you just made up your -mind to it and tried to enjoy things and have a good time?” asked Betty -timidly. - -“That’s what they all say,” retorted the old gentleman savagely. “‘Make -up your mind to it. Why, you ought to consider yourself a lucky dog -to be able to go off like this, chasing health around the world, if -necessary. How we envy you!’ Envy! Well, they needn’t.” He smiled his -wistful smile again. “Fact is, when I was young, I hadn’t any chance -to play--I was too busy hustling to pay for bread and butter and an -attic room. Now I’m too old to learn. But I like to see young people -play well, if they work well too. I’ve got a boy--the young rascal--oh, -well, you don’t want to hear me scold about my boy. Tell me where -you’ve been and where you’re going and why it is that you like your -Europe so well.” - -So he led Betty on to tell him about the going-away party at Mary’s, -about the senator and the emigrants and the ghost of Dunstaffnage; and -they had gotten back to the United States and Harding College again, -before the others appeared. - -“My dear, I appreciate your staying to talk with me,” he said finally. -“I had a daughter once, but she died. I should like her to have grown -up to be like you,--or like that little tomboy that stood up to me and -insisted you should go on if you pleased. I couldn’t get her for a -private secretary next fall, could I? She wouldn’t cry if I happened to -find fault with the way she took my dictation.” - -Just then Babe herself appeared, leading the others. - -“We didn’t find it,” she sang out cheerfully. “That old lady’s idea of -a mile is exaggerated.” - -“We didn’t dare go any further for fear of missing the coach and -worrying mummie,” added Babbie. - -“In a hurry to get back to the village, are you?” asked the old -gentleman. “I’ve got a car waiting for me somewhere down there at the -foot of the hill. You can all squeeze in for that little distance, -can’t you?” - -“Oh, thank you,” said Babe, “but we were going to have lunch -first--bread and milk at the farmhouse near the foot of the hill, if -they’ll give it to us. We’ve allowed time for that, and we’re just -perishing of hunger. Thank you just as much about the ride.” - -“Bread and milk at a farmhouse,” repeated the old gentleman briskly. -“I--I believe I’m hungry too. Would it be intrusive----” - -“Oh, please do come,” said Betty eagerly. “I’ve made you miss your -lunch at the inn, I’m afraid.” - -So the old gentleman scrambled down the hill with Betty and Babe, while -Madeline and Babbie ran ahead to make sure of the luncheon and get the -preparations for it under way. The bread and butter was so good and -the milk so creamy, and they all ate and drank so much, while the old -gentleman forgot to be annoyed at his unhappy plight and told funny -stories of his motoring experiences in France,--neither he nor his -chauffeur, it seemed, knew a word of any language but English,--that -the time slipped by, and when Babe thought to look at her watch it was -long past the hour that she had allotted to lunching. - -“There’s Dove Cottage gone!” she announced in tragic tones. “And when -we get back to America and people ask us about it, how we shall hate to -say we were right here and didn’t take enough interest in Wordsworth to -hunt up his house.” - -“Never mind,” Madeline reassured her cheerfully. “We’ll just inquire in -a casual way if they saw Easdale Tarn, when they were here, and that -will settle them.” - -“The only trouble is we didn’t see it either,” matter-of-fact Betty -reminded her sadly. - -The old gentleman was looking at his watch and muttering hasty -calculations. “You shall see your Dove Cottage,” he announced -triumphantly. “You didn’t count on going back in my car. Come along.” - -The next minute they were tearing down the Easdale road at a rate -that the old gentleman smilingly characterized as “about our usual -speed, and we’ve only been arrested once so far.” When they reached -the cottage he sat outside in the car, watch in hand, ready to give -the signal for departure, and at the church he did the same thing. -Then they whirled back to the inn, where Mrs. Hildreth was getting a -little anxious about them, though, as Babbie pointed out, five minutes -before the coach started was a whole lot of time--you could see all the -regular sights of Grasmere in five minutes if you were a good manager. - -Betty and Babe, who had taken a great fancy to the crusty old -gentleman, stayed behind the others to say a more extended good-bye. - -“We’re really very grateful to you,” Babe assured him gaily. “You’ve -saved our reputations. But for you the Grasmere chapter of ‘B. A.’s -Abroad’ would have had a disgraceful blank in it.” - -“‘B. A.’s Abroad,’”--the old gentleman turned to Betty. “That’s the -journal you told me about. B. A.--Benevolent Adventurers--that’s what -you’ve been this morning. I haven’t had so good a time since I left New -York. Thank you all, and you particularly, Miss----” - -“Wales,” supplied Betty. - -“Miss Wales, I hope we shall meet again during the summer. I’m going -back to France, where they have respectable roads. Good-bye.” - -“You’ve got to look out for Betty, mummie,” laughed Babbie, when they -were settled again on the coach. “All the high-and-mighty personages -just naturally gravitate to her. First there was the senator, and now -this grand magnate. Who was he, Betty?” - -“He didn’t tell me his name, and I didn’t like to ask.” - -“He’s certainly a person of importance,” declared Madeline. “He talks -about New York as if he pretty nearly owned it, and did you notice how -frantically the inn servants flew around when he appeared?” - -“I didn’t fly around when he appeared,” said Babe proudly, and was much -amused and elated when Betty repeated what he had said about her. - -“I think benevolent adventures are going to turn out to be Betty’s -dominant interest,” said Babe, after relating the old gentleman’s -interpretation of B. A. “First there were the emigrants and now this -old gentleman. I wonder whom you’ll find next to cheer up.” - -Betty laughed. “I think that’s a funny kind of a dominant interest for -traveling. Why, you can be nice to people just as well when you’re at -home.” - -“Well, you’re elected to try it a while longer,” declared Babbie, -“and see how it works. It’s certainly been amusing so far. The very -point about a good dominant interest, you know, is that it’s queer. -Anybody can take Gothic architecture or Mary Queen of Scots, but -ghosts, tea-rooms, chimney-pots, and benevolent adventures show real -originality. Girls, aren’t we having a good time?” - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -BUYING A DUKE - - -FROM the lakes the B. A.’s traveled slowly and merrily to -London, where they established themselves at a quiet boarding-house -overlooking a pretty square, and plunged into a mad delirium of -sight-seeing and shopping. - -“I never felt pulled in so many directions in my life,” complained Babe -wearily. “The shop-windows are so fascinating, and things are all so -cheap, and it’s such fun paying for them in this comical English money.” - -“And your friends will all be so glad to get whatever you don’t want -for yourself because it came from abroad,” put in Babbie. “I’m going to -do all my Christmas shopping here and in Paris.” - -“Yes, I want to, too,” agreed Babe, “but all the time I’m in the shops -I keep thinking how the places I’ve wanted to see for ages and perhaps -never can see again are all within a stone’s throw--well, within a -’bus-ride, if you like that better, and I decide to go sight-seeing -with Madeline. But when you and Mrs. Hildreth and Betty come home at -night with all your fascinating packages from Liberty’s and the Irish -lace stores, why then I wish I’d shopped.” - -“You can’t have everything,” said Madeline sagely. “That’s been my -motto for years, and it’s never so useful as when I’m traveling. You -don’t enjoy anything unless you make up your mind not to worry about -the things you’ve got to miss. I’m going shopping myself to-morrow.” - -“I thought you hated it,” exclaimed all her auditors at once. - -“But this isn’t any ordinary shopping tour. I’m going to buy Eleanor’s -duke--that is, if the rest of you will trust me to pick him out.” - -“Of course we will,” said Babbie, “but why can’t we all come, too, and -help?” - -“Babbie, you promised me you would stay quietly at home to-morrow and -rest,” Mrs. Hildreth reminded her. - -“Well, so I will,” Babbie gave up cheerfully. “And Babe has a luncheon -engagement with the friend from home that she met in the American -express office.” - -“Then Betty and I will go duke-hunting,” said Madeline. “That suits me -perfectly. Too many matchmakers would be fatal. The duke would detect -our eagerness and demand an exorbitant settlement. Dukes come high, you -know, at best, so be prepared to be generous with your shillings.” - -“Oh, Madeline, do tell us what you’re going to get,” begged Babbie. But -Madeline only smiled mysteriously and told Mrs. Hildreth that she and -Betty probably shouldn’t be back for luncheon. - -Next morning when they were safely out of ear-shot she divulged her -idea. “You know those pretty old Staffordshire china figures? The -spotted dogs are the commonest, but there are men and women, too. -Oh, you must have seen them, Betty, in the windows of the antique -shops--shepherdesses with looped-up skirts, leaning on their crooks, -and cute little men with lace ruffles at their wrists and pink coats -and silver knee-buckles. They look awfully aristocratic; somehow, I -don’t think we could get a better duke.” - -Betty hadn’t noticed anything of the sort, so they went a block out -of their way down Oxford Street to see some in a shop that Madeline -remembered. Sure enough, the window was full of the queer little china -figures, and there was one that Betty declared was just the duke for -Eleanor. - -“Let’s go right in and get it,” she urged jubilantly. “It’s so quaint -and--oh, so European somehow. Eleanor will be perfectly delighted.” - -Madeline laughed at her innocent enthusiasm. “We can’t afford to buy -it here,” she warned her. “Those figures are dreadfully expensive. In -a fashionable neighborhood like this they’d probably ask eight or ten -dollars for that duke. But the other day when Babe and I were riding -on a ’bus away out toward Hammersmith to see how far you could go for -fourpence, I noticed a whole cluster of antique shops, and I thought we -might find a real bargain out there.” - -“But this is such a pretty, graceful little figure,” said Betty -doubtfully. “How much are we going to spend for each of the girls?” - -“The gargoyles and the photograph that Helen wanted won’t be over -sixty cents, so I suppose we ought to find something at about that -price for the general present to Eleanor and Bob. Then, of course, we -can any of us take any of them whatever extra things we like.” - -“Let’s just ask about this duke,” urged Betty, who had lost her heart -to the little china figure, and couldn’t believe it cost as much as -Madeline thought. - -But “Thirty-five shillings,” said the pompous shop-keeper, and Betty -had to explain blushingly that she couldn’t afford so much that morning. - -“That’s eight dollars and seventy-five cents,” she said dejectedly, as -they went off to find the Hammersmith ’bus. “We can’t ever get one for -sixty cents, Madeline. The neighborhood wouldn’t make eight dollars -difference.” - -“Oh, I don’t know,” said Madeline easily. “I’ve bought silver boxes -in Holland for thirty cents and matched them on Fifth Avenue for five -dollars. Anyhow it will be fun hunting.” - -It was fun. The Hammersmith shops were crowded with all sorts of -interesting old odds-and-ends, the like of which Betty had never seen -before. She admired the glib way in which Madeline chatted with the -shop-keepers about strange things like black Wedgwood, Chippendale -chairs, and Flemish inlay. But when they inquired for Staffordshire -figures no one seemed to have any, or at least not any that could pass -for a duke. But every one was very obliging about suggesting more shops -to try, and when that particular neighborhood was quite exhausted some -one sent the girls off on what proved to be a wild goose chase to the -shops near Nottinghill Gate, “where there isn’t any hill nor any gate,” -as Betty explained later, in relating the day’s adventures, “so how can -you tell when to get off the ’bus?” - -And as they couldn’t tell, they were carried six blocks past and had -to walk back in the noonday heat, only to find that the biggest shop, -which had been so highly recommended, kept nothing but brasses. - -“We’ll go in here,” said Madeline, opening the door of a dusky little -second-hand store with an impatient jerk, “and if they haven’t what -we want we’ll stop. Yes, no matter if they tell us positively that -a shop round the corner is packed tight with Staffordshire figures, -we won’t go to it. Instead we’ll go and get a cool and luscious -luncheon,--though where we can find one in this dingy neighborhood, I’m -sure I don’t know.” - -A small girl with wisps of tow-colored hair falling over her eyes came -out from a back room to see what they wanted. - -She shook her head doubtfully when Madeline mentioned Staffordshire. -“I’m sure I couldn’t say, ma’am. She’s out--the madame is--and I -couldn’t rightly say what we have. Would you know it if you saw it? You -might look about then.” - -So they “looked about,” among the curious agglomeration of mirrors, -candlesticks, lustre jugs, cameos, and time-stained engravings, all -standing in dusty disarray on top of Queen Anne sideboards, carved -centre tables, and beautiful old Sheraton writing-desks with secret -compartments, that set Betty, who was having her first taste of the -delights of antique-hunting, wild with delight. But though they poked -into every nook and corner, no Staffordshire figures came to light. - -“Well, we shall have to give it up,” said Madeline dejectedly. “How -much is that lustre pitcher, please--the fat little one with the roses -in the border?” - -“I don’t know, ma’am,” confessed the little maid sadly. “You see very -few comes here in the morning, and it’s so very difficult remembering -the prices, ma’am.” - -“Oh, dear!” Madeline wanted the fat little pitcher all the more now -that she couldn’t have it. “When will the owner of the shop be back, do -you think?” - -“Oh, I really couldn’t say, ma’am. In an hour perhaps, and maybe not -till time for tea. You see it’s Friday, and she’s gone to market. But -she went early to-day, so she might be back early.” - -“But does it ever take her all day to do the family marketing?” asked -Madeline curiously. - -“Oh, it’s not for the family, ma’am; it’s for the shop she’s buying. -Everybody goes to the market on Fridays.” - -“Whom do you mean by everybody?” - -“Why, all the dealers in London, ma’am. The madame buys almost -everything there. Things go very cheap there, you see. It’s a pity she -didn’t know what you were wanting, or she’d have found it for you this -morning. You can find almost anything at the market if you look sharp.” - -“I suppose you couldn’t tell us how to get there?” inquired Madeline -tentatively. - -Oh, yes she could; any one in London could do that. It was the -Caledonian market, you understand. First you took the Underground to -King’s Cross, and then you took the ’bus to Market Road, and any one -would tell you where to get down. And after that it was just a step to -the market. - -“What a find!” Madeline caught Betty’s arm as soon as they were -outside, and fairly danced her down the street. “We shall get all sorts -of bargains in dukes there, and then it’s such a lovely stunt hunting -them along with all the dealers in London. We’ll buy some fruit and eat -it on the Underground. Where is the Underground, I wonder? She said -everybody went there Friday mornings. Should you think it would close -at twelve or at one?” - -Of course Betty hadn’t the least idea. In fact she couldn’t quite -see what there was to be so excited about, but as usual she took -Madeline’s word for it. - -“Markets are great,” Madeline explained when they had at last found the -Underground. “I’ve been to the rag-fair in Rome and the Christmas-sale -in Paris, and they were both no end of fun. Some one told father about -a big market in London, but he never could find it. Won’t he be envious -when I bring out my trophies!” - -When they got into the ’bus for Market Road nearly every other -passenger was laden with a big basket. - -“They’re going to market, too,” Madeline nudged Betty. “So we’re not -hopelessly late after all.” - -When they had turned in at the big gates Betty stared about her in -amazement. The vast open space was thronged with a laughing, chattering -crowd of buyers. But above the noise they made rose the strident cries -of the marketmen. - -“Penny a mar-r-r-ket bunch!” - -“Whatever-you-like at yer own price.” - -“Rusty nails! Rusty na-ils!” - -It took time to disentangle even those few cries from the multitude of -strange announcements. - -“Who would want rusty nails?” demanded Betty. - -“I don’t know, but there they are--pounds and pounds of them. Somebody -must want them or they wouldn’t be here. Isn’t it fun having everything -spread out on the ground?” - -“Literally everything,” laughed Betty. “Books and china and second-hand -calico wrappers, and--yes, Madeline, second-hand tooth-brushes, right -next to that lovely inlaid furniture.” - -“And there’s a Persian kitten,” added Madeline. “Poor little pussy! She -looks frightened half to death.” - -“And hats and furs,” put in Betty. - -“And jewelry. Betty, I’ll buy you a penny pin as a memento. Choose.” - -Betty chose a brooch consisting of a very realistic red raspberry and -two green leaves. “Thank you,” she said, “and isn’t that a lustre-ware -pitcher?” - -It was, and it was in the collection of a man who was crying, -“Whatever-ye-like at yer own price,” at the top of his lungs. - -“A shilling,” Madeline offered boldly, pointing to the pitcher. - -“Three,” retorted the man decisively. - -“But you just said, ‘Whatever you like at your own price,’” Madeline -reminded him. - -The man winked cheerfully. “Any of this rubbish, ma’am, I mean.” He -picked up a handful of the rusty nails. “You want only the good things. -The pitcher’s a bargain at three bob.” - -“Have you any Staffordshire figures?” asked Madeline. - -The man rummaged in a basket and produced two little white lambs, each -standing on a hillock of green grass. - -“Oh, how cunning,” murmured Betty. “I simply must have those.” - -“Then don’t act too anxious, or he’ll put the price away up,” Madeline -whispered. - -“You buy them,” Betty whispered back. - -“We wanted a man’s figure,” explained Madeline nonchalantly. “You -haven’t any? Then I guess that’s all. How much are the lambs?” - -“Thrippence.” - -“I’ll take them,” cried Betty before Madeline could answer. - -The man looked amusedly from one to the other. “You mustn’t quarrel -over the baa-lambs, ladies.” - -“Oh, we won’t.” Betty held out her money. “Madeline, look!” - -A wizened, grizzled little Jew, whose wares were spread out next to -those of the owner of the “baa-lambs,” had overheard their conversation -with his rival and was holding out a figure, the exact counterpart of -the one in the Oxford Street shop. Madeline pinched Betty to remind her -not to appear over-anxious. - -“Oh, yes,” she said indifferently, holding out her hand for the little -figure and examining it carefully for cracks or nicks. “But now that -we’ve bought the lambs I don’t know--how much is this?” - -“Five bob, and you can’t find another such bargain in London,” the -dealer assured her eagerly. - -“What’s a bob?” whispered Betty. - -“A shilling,” Madeline explained. Then she turned to the dealer. “Make -it two and six.” - -[Illustration: “FOUR AND SIX!]” - -“Four and six,” he compromised. - -Madeline shook her head severely. “If you’d said three and six I might -have considered it. Come on, Betty.” - -Betty stared in amazement. Was Madeline--yes, she was actually walking -off. She was going to leave that lovely duke. But just as Madeline -turned the corner, the little dealer jumped up, the figure in one hand -and a scrap of crumpled paper in the other, and with a bound he was at -Madeline’s elbow. - -“Have it for three and six,” he whispered confidentially. - -“Oh, very well.” Madeline accepted the bundle nonchalantly. - -“Hallo, Madeline. What have you done him out of now?” Dick Blake was -standing in front of them, his face wreathed in smiles. “I thought -you’d be here to-day,” he went on. “I had a ‘leading,’ as we used to -say in Paris when we wanted to do a silly thing, that if I came up here -I should lose all the Americans but you. How do you like marketing with -Madeline, Miss Wales?” - -“Oh, Dick, it’s jolly fun seeing you. But what on earth are you doing -here?” - -“Pursuing you,” explained Dick cheerfully. “Didn’t I just say so? When -I’m not pursuing you, I’m pursuing a magnate. He’s more elusive,--or at -least I don’t know his habits so well, and up to date I haven’t found -him. But I take my success with you to be a good omen. I’m sure I shall -spot my magnate before long.” - -“Please talk sense, Dick.” - -“I am,” he assured her solemnly. “You see it’s this way. New York was -hot and stupid, with everybody gone who could manage to get away, and I -wanted to go, too. But ‘The Quiver’ hasn’t been exactly booming lately, -and I couldn’t afford a nice trip.” - -“Meaning a trip to Europe,” interposed Madeline. - -“Exactly,” Dick took her up. “So I was feeling awfully blue, and then a -week ago to-night my old chief down in Newspaper Row ’phoned and said, -‘Dickie, you’re the best hunter we ever had. Go to Europe and find an -elusive magnate, whose mysterious absence is upsetting Wall Street -prices,’ and I said, ‘Done,’ and made up ‘The Quiver’ for two months -ahead, and here I am. I got to Liverpool last night and to London this -morning, and so far I’ve ascertained that the Elusive Magnate aforesaid -isn’t staying at any of the likely hotels.” - -“Dick, you are too absurd,” laughed Madeline. “What’s your magnate’s -name?” - -“Morton--Jasper Jones Morton. Haven’t seen him, have you?” - -“I haven’t the pleasure of his acquaintance. Have you, Betty?” - -Betty shook her head smilingly. - -“I’ve got his picture here somewhere.” Dick felt in his pocket and -drew out a cabinet photograph. “He’s not exactly handsome and he’s -never gone in for society, but he’s really very well-to-do, and when he -suddenly departs for the first vacation of his long and useful life, -just when his railroads are in a good deal of a muddle and several -of his corporations are being sued by Uncle Sam, why, naturally Wall -Street sits up and takes notice.” He passed the picture to Madeline. - -“Why, Betty, it’s our magnate,” she cried laughingly, and Betty, -looking at the picture over her shoulder, gave a little shriek of -delight. “It is,” she cried. - -Dick looked in amazement from one to the other. “I say, have you really -met him?” he demanded. “Where was he, and which way was he headed? He -didn’t drop any hints about his reasons for being over here, did he?” - -Madeline looked at Betty. “You talked to him most.” - -“Do you mean did he say whether he is over here just on a vacation for -his health?” asked Betty. - -Dick nodded, and she repeated Mr. Jasper Jones Morton’s anathemas -against vacations, doctors, and European travel. “I’m sure he was -telling the truth,” she added earnestly. “He said it all as if he meant -it,--he couldn’t have been making up.” - -“Having conversed with him about other things he doesn’t like, I catch -your point,” chuckled Dick. “J. J. Morton’s earnest hatred is very -earnest indeed.” Then he grew sober suddenly. “I wonder where’s the -nearest place to cable from. I must get this off at once. Miss Wales, -you’ve done me the best kind of a good turn. You don’t mind my taking -your story, do you, since you haven’t any possible use for it?” - -“Mr. Morton won’t mind, will he?” asked Betty anxiously. “He was -awfully nice to us, and it would be mean to take advantage of him.” - -“No,” said Dick, “I honestly don’t think he’ll mind. I don’t believe -he wants the market to go to smash on his account. And to me it -means--well, I haven’t been here a day yet; and the chief gave me a -week to find him and get an interview. So it means the biggest kind -of a big beat, Miss Wales, and that means a juicy fee and a juicy -fee means----” Dick stopped suddenly, bit his lip, and then laughed. -“I didn’t use to be so mercenary, did I, Madeline? Then I have your -consent, Miss Wales? Are you girls coming back with me?” - -For the first part of the long ride Dick Blake was silent, his face -puckered into deep wrinkles of thought. All at once he threw back his -head and laughed merrily. “I’ve got it,” he said, “head-lines and all. -Now we can talk. What did you do the little Jew out of, Madeline?” - -“Oh, we were buying a duke for Eleanor Watson,” explained Madeline -tantalizingly. “She wants one, you know.” - -The worried look came back to Dick’s fine gray eyes. “Go slow, -Madeline. You were buying---- Eleanor wants a duke?” - -Madeline took pity on him and unwrapped the dainty figurine, which Dick -duly admired. - -“By the way, Miss Wales,” he began suddenly, “you don’t know where -Jasper J. went from Grasmere, I suppose.” - -Betty repeated what the old gentleman had said about the superiority of -French roads. - -“Then I suppose I’d better cross the channel to-night,” sighed Dick, -“and here’s where I leave this ’bus. Wish I could go home with you and -see the rest of the ‘Merry Hearts’ and have a good talk. Good-bye, Miss -Wales. So long, Madeline. See you again somewhere over here.” And he -was gone. - -“Well,” Madeline told the others, when they reached home, “we’ve got -the duke and he’s a darling, and we’ve found out the name of the -Grasmere magnate, and Betty’s been being a B. A. again--to whom in the -world do you guess, but Dick Blake. It will be in all the New York -papers to-morrow morning. How’s that for a strenuous day of it?” - - - - -CHAPTER X - -THE GAY GHOSTS OF LONDON - - -“TO-DAY’S the third, isn’t it?” observed Babe carelessly the -next morning at breakfast. “I believe I’ll stay at home and write some -letters.” - -Babbie, who was sitting by the window, happened to glance out at the -street just then. “You needn’t,” she announced calmly. “He’s arriving -this very minute in a hansom.” - -“Who is arriving, Babbie?” asked Mrs. Hildreth. Whereupon Babbie -assured her that she was utterly disqualified as a competent chaperon; -she ought to have grasped the connection between John Morton and Babe’s -mad desire to write letters without any help at all. - -John was in high spirits. “Hope you’ve noticed that I’m exactly on -time,” he told Babe in a confidential aside. “Old Dwight nearly passed -away with surprise when he saw me settling down to a good steady -grind. It’s queer how people always think that if a fellow doesn’t -work it’s because he hasn’t brains enough. Old Dwight said he actually -envied me my clear and logical mind. I told him to tell that to dad, -and he did--wrote a corking letter all about me and my industry and my -marvelous progress. I can’t wait to get dad’s answer.” - -“He’ll be sure to be awfully pleased,” said Babe sympathetically. “I’m -pleased too. If you hadn’t finished in time I should have given you -back your pin. I wouldn’t take a pin from a shirk.” - -“Are you going to escort us out to see the sights of London, John?” -asked Babbie. - -“Of course. That’s why I came around so early, before you’d had a -chance to get started off without me on a picnic or a ghost-hunt or any -other interesting festivity. What shall we do first?” - -“Oh, let’s have a ghost-hunt!” cried Babbie eagerly. “We haven’t paid -the least speck of attention to ghosts since we left Oban. I can’t have -my dominant interest so neglected.” - -“All right,” agreed John. “Only it isn’t moonlight, and we should -probably be ‘taken in charge,’ as the police say over here, if we made -a sheeted ghost walk in London.” - -“Then how are we going to have a ghost-party?” asked Betty. “Madeline, -think up a way.” - -Madeline considered. “First, we’ve got to choose our ghosts--there -are such quantities in London. Then we must seek out their haunts and -conjure them to appear. If they won’t, we shall have to go back some -evening, and try again by moonlight. Let’s each write the name of our -favorite London ghost on a slip of paper. Babbie can draw one, because -ghosts are her dominant interest, and then we’ll all start out in -pursuit.” - -This arrangement suited everybody, and Madeline hunted up pencils and -paper. She wrote the name of her favorite ghost without an instant’s -consideration, but the others had to think hard, and Babe was caught -slyly consulting a London Baedeker. John chewed his pencil in solemn -silence until the rest were through. Then all at once he banged the -table triumphantly with his fist, scribbled a name on his slip, and -handed it to Madeline, who was acting as mistress of ceremonies. - -“You’d better choose my ghost, Babbie,” he announced. “If you do, I -invite you all to have luncheon with me at an appropriate place.” - -“It’s not fair offering bribes,” cried Babe. “My ghost did that, and it -got him into a horrible scrape.” - -“My ghost is a lady,” said Betty. “I think she deserves some -consideration on that account.” - -“The special advantage of mine,” put in Madeline, “is that his haunts -are miles away from here. Think of the lovely long ’bus ride we could -have.” - -“Mine is both a lady and a royal personage,” said Babbie impressively, -“so she really ought to come in ahead of any of yours. But I’m going to -be perfectly fair; I’ll draw out a slip with my eyes shut. Dr. Samuel -Johnson wins,” she announced a minute later. - -“And he’s mine!” cried John. “Now remember, everybody, the meal-tickets -are to be on me. Did you girls ever hear of the ‘Cheshire Cheese’?” - -No one had but Madeline. - -“What ignorance!” laughed John, and then confessed that he never had -heard of it either, until Mr. Dwight mentioned it the night before. “It -seems it was quite a haunt of old Dr. Johnson’s,” he explained. “It’s a -queer little eating-house just off Fleet Street. You girls may not like -it, but if you don’t we needn’t stay.” - -Babbie’s ghost was Queen Victoria, Betty’s Becky Sharp, Madeline’s -Carlyle, and Babe’s Lord Bacon. - -“What a collection!” laughed Madeline. “Perhaps we can take in some of -the others on our way to the ‘Cheshire Cheese.’ Hand me the Baedeker -please, Babe.” - -But John objected. “We’ve got to make perfectly sure of Dr. Johnson -first,” he said firmly. “What’s the use of choosing a ghost if you -don’t keep to him? Besides, remember, I got down here only late last -evening. If we have any extra time, I want to go and register my -address at the American Express office and get my mail. I’m expecting -an important letter.” John looked at Babe impressively. - -After much lively discussion it was voted to walk to the “Cheshire -Cheese,” or at least to walk until some one got tired. It would be so -much more convenient for showing John the sights. And, as Madeline -observed, pretty nearly everything in London is a sight in one way -or another, so that it was really lunch-time when John and Babe, who -were ahead, suddenly turned down a dark little alley and waited at the -corner for the rest to come up. - -“Is the ‘Cheshire Cheese’ in here?” asked the fastidious Babbie -doubtfully. “Well, this certainly looks like a splendid place for -ghosts,” she added, diving down the alley after the others. - -John pointed ahead to the quaint old swinging sign that read “Ye Old -Cheshire Cheese.” It was a tiny little inn, the one small dining-room -opening right on to the street. A waiter came bustling forward to meet -the party. - -“Good-morning,” said John gravely, looking inquiringly around the room. -“Which is Dr. Johnson’s chair, please?” - -The waiter bowed and pointed to a seat in one corner against the wall. - -“Oh, I see, he’s not here yet,” said John solemnly. “We were hoping to -find him. Well, I suppose we’d better sit down and have something to -eat while we wait.” He led the way to the doctor’s table. - -The waiter, wearing a perplexed expression, pulled out the -chairs,--John insisting that Dr. Johnson’s seat should be left -vacant,--and recited the menu for the day. - -“Which are the Doctor’s favorite dishes?” John asked him. - -“Hi really couldn’t say, sir.” The waiter’s tone was full of mild -reproach. “The lark-pie his our special dish, sir, and the stewed -cheese his hexcellent heatin’ and a general favorite.” - -“Then we’ll have those, shan’t we, girls?” asked John. “And bring -enough for Dr. Johnson, in case he should look in,” he added gravely, -and the waiter went off, shaking his head and murmuring something about -“those mad Hamericans.” - -“I want to sit in Dr. Johnson’s chair,” complained Babbie, when he had -gone. “There’s no sense in saving a place for a ghost, John. Don’t you -know that they can sit where there is somebody just as well as where -there isn’t?” - -“That may be,” admitted John. “But I consider that it’s more -respectful. Speaking of ghosts, is that the ghost of Billy Benson that -I see before me, or is it Billy in person?” - -John tumbled his chair over in his eagerness to get to the door and -wring the hand of a tall, broad-shouldered youth, who seemed just as -delighted to see John as John was to see him. He had a friend with him, -whom John evidently did not know, for presently Billy remembered him -and summarily pulled him forward to be introduced. Then the three came -over to the girls’ table. - -“May I present Mr. William Benson?” John began. “Best fellow in -the world, Billy is. Rooms in my hall at Harvard. And this is Mr. -Trevelyan, a friend of Billy’s.” - -Mr. Trevelyan was several years older than John or Billy. He was tall, -dark, and slender, with a distinguished manner, queer, near-sighted -gray eyes that were slightly out of focus, making it hard to tell -just where he was looking, and a very peculiar way of speaking--it -was difficult to decide whether he had a slight foreign accent or an -impediment in his speech. - -“You fellows will join us, won’t you?” asked John hospitably. “Mr. -Trevelyan, you can have Dr. Johnson’s seat, and Billy, you can be -Boswell and squeeze in somewhere, I’m sure.” - -But Mr. Trevelyan demurred politely. “You have found friends,” he told -Billy. “I insist that you let me withdraw.” - -“Oh, nonsense!” said John decisively, and when Babbie seconded the -invitation, Mr. Trevelyan allowed himself to be persuaded to stay. - -“You see the Doctor did come,” John announced triumphantly to the -waiter, when that functionary reappeared with the lark-pie and stewed -cheese. “And Boswell is with him, so you’d better bring us something -extra.” - -“Very well, sir,” said the waiter, smiling condescendingly at the -absurdity of the “Hamericans,” and Babbie overheard a rosy-cheeked -English girl at the next table say she did wish people wouldn’t persist -in treating England as if it were a queer, old-fashioned toy that it -was fun to spend your summers playing with. - -“Come, John, you mustn’t tease that poor waiter any more,” she -commanded. “Mr. Trevelyan and Mr. Benson don’t even know why you’re -doing it.” - -So John explained to his guests that they had unwittingly joined a -ghost-hunt, and then the girls told about the Dunstaffnage ghost, and -Mr. Trevelyan followed their story up with an account of a ghost he had -seen in the Australian cattle-country. - -He was an Australian, he explained, and John, who was tremendously -interested in queer, out-of-the-way places, kept him busy telling his -experiences in the bush all through luncheon. He told his stories so -well that every one else stopped talking to listen, and they sat over -their luncheon long after every one else had left. - -“Goodness, but you’ve had an interesting life, Mr. Trevelyan,” said -Madeline, when they finally rose to go. “Aren’t you crazy to get back -to Australia? Everything else must seem tame after that.” - -Mr. Trevelyan bowed gravely in acknowledgment of her interest. “I -shall not go back at present. My widowed sister and I are planning to -settle down near Paris. We have bought a house, and she is already in -France, visiting a friend. As soon as I have finished a little business -that I have here I shall join her and we will set up housekeeping. And -now I must really leave you. I have a business engagement.” - -“All right, old man,” said Billy gaily. “Only don’t forget to turn up -for dinner and the theatre.” - -“Unless you wish to postpone----” began Mr. Trevelyan. - -“No, indeed,” Billy assured him. “Perhaps Morton will join us. His -hotel is near ours.” - -Mr. Trevelyan murmured something about its being a great pleasure to -have met them all and hurried away. - -“Isn’t he great?” said Billy eagerly. “He’s the most modest fellow you -ever saw. Never mentions his own part in all those woolly Australian -tales until you quiz him, and then you find he was ‘it’ every time. -Now I happen to know that his sister is visiting a countess, but you -notice he was careful to say just ‘a friend.’” - -“If he’d said a countess it would have been blowing,” said John -decidedly. “No nice fellow would have lugged in the countess in that -connection. How’d you meet him, Billy?” - -“On the street,” laughed Billy. “He asked me the way to the Army and -Navy Club. When I told him, he noticed I was an American, of course----” - -“Oh, come off, Billy,” John broke in. “He’d know that the minute he set -eyes on you.” - -“He didn’t know it till I spoke,” persisted Billy. “You see he doesn’t -belong here--hasn’t been in London before for fifteen years. Well, -anyhow he said he was glad an American could tell him what he’d asked -half a dozen Englishmen who couldn’t. Then we walked on together a bit, -and found we were both traveling alone and seeing the sights, and I -asked him to meet me for dinner. Then we went to the Tower together, -and out to Kew Gardens, and then he moved to my hotel and we rather -joined forces. He’s an awfully good sort.” - -“I don’t doubt that he is,” agreed John heartily. - -“The way he speaks interests me,” said Madeline. “Was he born in -England? Were his parents both English, do you know?” - -Billy nodded. “Australians get to speaking queerly, he says.” - -“Very likely,” agreed Madeline, “but I should have been almost positive -that he was French.” - -“He lisps,” declared Babe. “That’s one thing that adds to the queerness -of his talk. Well, what are we going to do next?” - -“We might pursue the ghost of Dr. Johnson to his grave in Westminster -Abbey,” suggested Madeline. “Graveyards are the logical places to hunt -ghosts in, I suppose.” - -But John objected. “The very reason I chose Dr. Johnson was so we -wouldn’t have to go to any musty old churchyards. I haven’t any -use for them or for picture-galleries. Let’s go up to the American -Express Office, and by that time it will be late enough to pursue your -specialty, Miss Ayres, and drink tea somewhere.” - -Billy Benson accepted with alacrity an invitation to join the -tea-party. On the way to the Express Office he told Babbie something -about his plans for the summer. - -“You see, I’m on the Harvard crew,” he explained, “and they’re all -coming over later to have a month’s practice on the course here. We row -Cambridge in the fall, you know.” - -Babbie didn’t know, and inquired eagerly when and where the race was to -come off. - -“Why, right here, on the regular course up near Hampton,” Billy told -her, “and early in September, just before college opens. It’s going to -be simply great. Can’t you manage to be on hand?” - -Babbie explained that they were going over to France and had meant to -sail for home from a French port. “But there isn’t any reason why we -shouldn’t come back to England first,” she declared. “I’m going to ask -mother if we can’t do that. We could leave a week earlier now, and have -a week here in September.” - -“Well, as I was saying,” Billy took up his own story, “my roommate -was coming with me in June, but he caught the measles from his kid -brother--wasn’t that the complete limit of a thing to do?--so I just -came along alone. I was afraid if I waited over another boat for him, -my guardian might change his mind about letting me go.” Billy smiled -pensively. “He can change his mind all he likes now. I’m twenty-one. My -birthday was yesterday and I celebrated by cabling home for more money. -You see,” he added confidentially, “I’m having some clothes made by a -Bond Street tailor.” - -Babbie laughed. “They say what women come abroad for is to buy clothes, -but I didn’t suppose men cared much about shopping over here.” - -“Well, the point is that I didn’t bring over any glad rags,” Billy -explained. “Didn’t expect to need any, just knocking about by myself. -But I’m going to run over to Paris when Trevelyan goes--I shall have -just time to see the town before the crew gets here--and the countess -that his sister is visiting is going to give a dance for her just about -that time. Trevelyan insists that she’ll want me to come, when she -hears from him that I’m with him, and so of course I’ve got to have the -proper things ready.” - -“How exciting,” laughed Babbie, “to be going to a countess’s ball. -Madeline has a cousin who is a viscountess, but she’s not in Paris just -now, and I’m afraid that spoils our only chance of breaking into titled -society.” - -Meanwhile they had reached the Express Office, and John demanded his -mail and received the expected missive from his father with a grin of -rapture. - -“Excuse me while I read this,” he said, waving it triumphantly aloft -and retiring in haste to a quiet corner. - -Two minutes later he was back, the letter and the smile both out of -sight. - -“Come on,” he said grimly. “Let’s go and drown our sorrows in tea.” - -“What’s the matter?” Babe inquired sympathetically, when the party -had paired off to walk to a tea-shop that Madeline knew of on Regent -Street. “Wasn’t he as pleased as you thought he would be?” - -“Pleased!” repeated John gloomily. “He wasn’t pleased at all. He told -me in polite language that Dwight had lied about me, and insinuated -that I’d put him up to it, because I wanted to get something out of my -father. He says he had a very high opinion of Dwight when he hired him -in the spring, but he sees now that he’s only an ‘amiable futility,’ -like all the other tutors I’ve had. Then he ended by saying that when -he wanted information about my mental capacity he would ask for it, and -that if I couldn’t get along with the allowance we settled on when I -came across, I would just have to cut down my expenses.” - -“What a shame!” Babe’s voice was full of righteous indignation. “And -you didn’t want any more money, did you?” - -“I should say not! Why, I saved a lot while we were staying in Oban. -Besides I wouldn’t take that way to get it,--I’d ask right out, as I -generally do. It’s so maddening to have him always assume as a matter -of course that a fellow’s in the wrong.” - -“Is he that way about everything?” - -John nodded. “I told you how he hated this vacation that he’s taking. -He enjoys grumbling over things as much as you or I enjoy laughing -about them.” - -“Just like the funny old gentleman we met in Grasmere,” said Babe. -“Why, John, is your father’s name Jasper J. Morton?” - -John nodded. “Just suits him, too.” - -“Why, then he was the very one we met.” Babe laughed delightedly. -“Didn’t I write you anything about it? Well, it was this way.” She gave -a brief sketch of the encounter, ending with, “He may be hard to get -along with sometimes, John, but he’s an old dear just the same. Betty -thinks so, too. She saw more of him than I did.” - -“Well, we don’t hit it off somehow, he and I.” John’s tone was as -gloomy as ever. “I feel sometimes as if I might as well stop trying -to please him. Makes you envy a chap like Billy Benson who’s always -done about as he pleased and now is absolutely his own master. I’m six -months older than Billy, but my being of age doesn’t make the least -difference in the way my father treats me, and now I’ve done my level -best this summer, and that hasn’t made the least difference either.” - -“Oh, but it must in the end,” Babe reassured him cheerfully. “You’ll -feel better after you’ve had some tea.” - -But John refused to be cheered, though Billy Benson and Madeline gave -absurd imitations of English people taking tea, and Billy read a -thrilling letter from the captain of the Harvard crew, which made all -the girls as eager as Babbie had been to come back in September for the -race. - -“I shan’t see that race,” John confided in low tones to Babe. “I bet -you all the money I saved in Oban against your blue tie that my father -chooses that particular day to sail from Liverpool.” - -“I never bet,” Babe returned laughingly. “But if I see your father -again--he told us he hoped we might meet somewhere over in France--I’ll -mention the race and invite him to take me to it.” - -“But if I go, I shall want to take you myself,” objected John. - -“Humph!” observed Babe, “it seems to me that Mr. Jasper J. Morton has -not monopolized all the contrariety there is in the family.” - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -BETTY WALES, DETECTIVE - - -BILLY BENSON lost no time in accepting the girls’ invitation -to call on them. On the evening of the day after the ghost-hunt that -developed into a tea-drinking, Billy appeared, arrayed in the “glad -rags” that he had cajoled his Bond Street tailor into finishing long -before the stipulated time. Finding that Mrs. Hildreth was hesitating -a little about including the Harvard-Cambridge race in her itinerary, -he set himself to cajole her--with equal success. First he told funny -stories to make her laugh; then he unearthed the fact that his mother -and she had been girlhood friends; then he alluded casually to English -sports, and offered to take her to a cricket-match the next afternoon; -finally he smiled his famous smile and asked her if she honestly -wouldn’t like to see that race he had told the girls about. Of course -he wanted to row his very best, for the honor of Harvard and the -United States of America; and he could do any amount better if he knew -that some good friends of his would be watching him and cheering for -the crimson. Whereupon Mrs. Hildreth laughed at his ingenious reasoning -and commissioned Babbie and Madeline to see about engaging passage back -from an English port. And Billy, thanking her with charming deference, -and taking an early and ceremonious leave, reflected, as he often had -before, that it was easy enough to get things your way if you only took -a little pains to be agreeable. - -John Morton, on the other hand, bitterly regretted the girls’ change -of plan. “I know I shan’t be here for the race,” he told Babe, “and I -can’t go over to Paris when you do, because old Dwight won’t be through -with his reading at the British Museum. I might skip off with Billy, I -suppose, but my father would be furious if he ever found it out.” - -“You mustn’t do that,” Babe advised him. “It wouldn’t be the square -thing at all. Besides, we’re not going straight to Paris. We’re going -to Saint something. I forget the name, but it’s a seaside place up in -Brittany. Madeline says it’s lovely. So you may get to Paris as soon as -we do after all.” - -“I hope so. Anyway I think you ought to go sight-seeing in London now -and not waste time over shopping. You can do that just as well in -September when I’m not here.” - -“And in that way we won’t have the things we buy to lug around in -the meantime,” added Babe; but it is doubtful if this practical -consideration had very much to do with the sudden subsidence of her -shopping mania. - -Of course Babe told all the girls that Jasper J. Morton, the Grasmere -automobilist, and John’s father were one and the same person. But -only to Betty did she confide the story of the letter that had so -disheartened John. - -“I wish I were like you,” she said; “then I should know how to give him -the right kind of advice.” - -“Why, I should think the only thing to say was that he ought to try to -make his father see that he’s trying,” began Betty doubtfully. “You -can’t expect a person to believe right off that you are going to work -hard, when you’ve always wasted your time before. Goodness, don’t you -remember how long it took Eleanor Watson to get back her reputation? -You just wouldn’t believe in her yourself, Babe.” - -“That was very different. She--she wasn’t honest. Besides, if I’d been -her father I’d have stuck by her.” - -Betty smiled at Babe’s easy assumptions. “You can’t tell what you’d -have done. But, anyhow, don’t feel so bad about it. They’ll just have -to get along as they always have before.” - -“Oh, no, they won’t!” Babe’s tone was tragic. “They---- Oh, Betty, -I’ve just got to tell some one. John says he simply can’t stand it any -longer. He’s talked to Mr. Benson about it, and he has been asking Mr. -Trevelyan about the chances for a young man in Australia. Mr. Benson -has some kind of a big business that his guardian is managing for him -until he’s through college, and he says he will ask the guardian to -give John a position there. But John thinks Australia would be better, -because you can always earn more in a wild country, and then besides, -if his father objected, he would be away off there and he could just -go ahead with his plans.” - -“Oh, Babe, how silly! Then he doesn’t want to finish his college -course, after all the time he’s spent tutoring?” - -Babe shook her head. “He doesn’t want to do that anyway. He says it -will be only a waste of time. Whatever he does, he wants to go right -to work. He’d be perfectly satisfied if his father would let him go to -work in his business.” - -“But what’s his dreadful hurry?” demanded Betty. “As long as his father -wants him to finish college why doesn’t he do it, and then go to work? -If he’s really in earnest about trying to please his father that’s what -he ought to do.” - -“Yes, but you see a year is a lot of time to lose, when you might be -getting started in business. He wouldn’t expect his father to support -him--that is, we wouldn’t want--we couldn’t----” Babe paused, blushing -furiously. “Oh, Betty, don’t you see how it is? You’ve just screwed it -out of me. Promise you won’t tell anybody.” - -“Of course not,” laughed Betty. “A nice consistent man-hater you are, -Babe.” - -“But Betty, I haven’t decided anything yet,” Babe protested hastily. -“I may decide to go on being a man-hater just the same. Anyway John is -only the exception that proves the rule.” - -“Well, certainly, Babe,” Betty went on seriously, “you wouldn’t want -him to have any trouble with his father on your account.” - -“Of course not,” said Babe earnestly. “I couldn’t bear to have him do -that. That’s why it all worries me so.” - -“Then why not tell him that you think he ought to stick to college and -try to please his father, whatever happens?” - -Babe considered, frowning. “I will. A year isn’t so terribly long, when -you’re young. I’ll--yes, I’ll tell him that if he doesn’t decide to go -back to college and do his best to make his father happy why I’ll just -return his cairngorm pin.” - -The few remaining days of the girls’ stay in London flew swiftly by. -It was the regular thing for John to join them for a part of each -day. Sometimes when he was not too busy at the British Museum, Mr. -Dwight came too. Billy Benson, who was an indefatigable sight-seer, -divided his time between John and the girls and Mr. Trevelyan, who kept -modestly in the background, always ready if Billy wanted his society, -and always having “business” to attend to when Billy was otherwise -engaged. Billy, who was an impressionable youth, was forever singing -his new friend’s praises. - -“He’s so thoughtful and considerate,” he declared to Babbie one -morning. “My invitation to the countess’s dance came this morning.” He -held out a daintily engraved card. “What did he do but write to his -sister to see if I might bring you along. No, I didn’t suggest it. It -was all his own idea. He said that his sister would be the only woman -there who spoke English, and as the guest of honor she’ll be busy of -course. And as I can’t ‘parlez-vous’ one small word, he’s afraid I’ll -be bored--or a bore. Would you come?” - -Babbie wasn’t sure that they would be in Paris in time for the dance. -Even if they were she hadn’t any evening dress with her, and anyway, -she was afraid her mother wouldn’t be willing that she should go. “But -it was fine of him to think of it,” she ended. “I’m going to ask mother -if she minds his joining us on the trip to Hampton Court.” - -The Hampton Court expedition was to furnish the grand finale for the -London chapter of “B. A.’s Abroad.” They were to go up to Hampton by an -early afternoon train, see the palace and gardens, have dinner at an -inn with a fascinating name just outside the palace gates, and row down -the river at sunset, taking a train back to London somewhere further -down the line. Mrs. Hildreth was going to chaperon the party, and she -had no objection to Babbie’s asking Mr. Trevelyan to join it. She shook -her head, however, over the invitation to the countess’s dance. “You -couldn’t go without a chaperon, dear,” she said. “And if the idea is -that Mr. Trevelyan’s sister is to chaperon you, why I shouldn’t be at -all willing unless I had met her beforehand.” - -Billy assured her easily that all those details could be arranged. -“Don’t say no until you have to,” he begged. “I’m afraid Trevelyan will -be discouraged at the prospect of my dumbness and try to get out of -taking me. Besides, it would be such a jolly lark if you came.” - -So the matter was left in abeyance for the moment. Billy, in his casual -way, told Mr. Trevelyan that Mrs. Hildreth hoped she could meet his -sister before the dance, and Mr. Trevelyan bowed gravely and said his -sister would certainly do herself the honor of calling on Mrs. Hildreth. - -He bowed gravely again as he accepted Babbie’s invitation to go with -them to Hampton Court. He seemed very familiar with the place, and John -and Billy, who found English time-tables and tram-lines very confusing, -sighed relieved sighs and let him direct the party. - -“It’s fine having him along,” Billy declared. “He always knows where -things are and how you get there and what there is to see. He’s as good -as a regular guide, and at the same time he’s an addition to the party.” - -“Without being an additional expense,” laughed John. “Pays his own way, -doesn’t he?” - -Billy nodded. “We sort of take turns. If I pay for our luncheons, he -pays for dinner. Then I pay for the theatre and so on. It evens up in -the end, and it’s less trouble among friends.” - -“This expedition is to be a Dutch treat, you know,” John explained. -“Babbie insisted that it must be that way.” - -Billy felt in his pockets absently. “By George, that’s lucky for me, -because I forgot to get a check cashed this morning. Can you lend me a -little?” - -John laughed. “I can’t. I forgot too, and I shall be doing well if I -get back to London with a ’bus fare.” - -They were standing on the terrace at Hampton Court, overlooking the -river, with its gay row of house-boats anchored to the opposite shore. -Trevelyan was with the girls and Mrs. Hildreth, pointing out the -different boats and telling the names of their owners. - -“I say, Trevelyan,” Billy hailed him, “can you finance me for the day, -and maybe John, too? We’ve forgotten to get any checks cashed.” - -Trevelyan smiled. “I think I can accommodate you, if you don’t want too -much. You carry express checks, too?” He looked at John. - -“All good Americans do,” declared John. - -“Except me,” Babbie put in. “I carry gold certificates.” - -“You’d better not say that too loud,” laughed John. “With your gold -certificates, and that ring”--pointing at the sparkling hoop of -diamonds that had been Babbie’s father’s last present to her and that -she always wore--“you’d be a valuable prey for brigands.” He pointed to -the shadowy length of Queen Mary’s “pleached walk” just behind them. -“These European show-places swarm with adventurers. How do you know -that Trevelyan isn’t one, and that he isn’t planning to drag you off to -that pleached walk after dinner and rob you?” - -Babbie laughed. “I’m not afraid. But it is queer, isn’t it, how the -first subject of conversations among travelers is always, ‘How do you -carry your money?’ I’ve told lots of people how I carry mine.” She -turned to Trevelyan. “I told you the very first time I met you.” - -“Did you?” asked Trevelyan absently. “I don’t remember. Shall we go -and walk in Mary’s bower, Miss Hildreth?” - -Babbie had not liked Mr. Trevelyan particularly before, but he was so -entertaining this afternoon that she was secretly annoyed when she -found herself paired off with Mr. Dwight for the long row down the -river. Mr. Trevelyan was with Betty, who always got on beautifully with -Mr. Dwight. But it couldn’t be helped, so Babbie settled herself to -enjoy the river and make the best of her rather prosy companion. The -river was crowded with pleasure-craft--motor-boats, launches, rowboats, -and punts. These last fascinated Betty, because they were different -from anything in America. - -“I like all these nice slow English things,” she told Mr. Trevelyan. -“Can you punt?” - -He nodded. “But don’t you notice that in punting the girl nearly always -does the work?” He held his oars in one hand and pointed to a boat that -was coming up-stream near the other bank. As he did so, he turned to -face it and the man who was lolling on the cushions recognized him and -sat up suddenly. - -“How are you, Lestrange?” he called across the water. “Haven’t seen you -in weeks.” - -“Quite well, thanks. I’ve been awfully busy,” Trevelyan called back, -and picking up his oars began pulling off with long steady strokes -that speedily put distance between himself and the punt. But he could -row and talk, too. He seemed bent on being as agreeable to Betty as, -earlier in the afternoon, he had to Babbie. When they reached the -landing-place that had been appointed as a rendezvous he still kept -close beside her, and on the train and the ’bus he was a most attentive -escort. Betty, who was very sleepy, wished at last that he would talk -to somebody else and let her have a little cat-nap in peace. She -also wanted to ask John or Billy Benson whether his first name was -Lestrange, but she couldn’t, with him close beside her. Very likely -Babbie or Babe would know. It was certainly a queer first name. - -“Who’s going to see us off in the morning?” asked Babbie, as the men -made ready to say good-night. “John, you will, of course.” - -“I’m not sure,” returned John stiffly, avoiding Babbie’s eyes. -“Quarter to ten is very early for London.” - -“Nonsense!” retorted Billy Benson cheerfully. “I’ll get you up in time. -I’m coming to the station, and so is Trevelyan, aren’t you, old man?” - -“Yes, indeed,” said Trevelyan, who was still standing close by Betty. - -“Well, did everybody have a good time?” asked Madeline, when they were -indoors. - -“I did,” said Babbie quickly, “until I got caught with Mr. Dwight.” - -“I did,” agreed Betty, “until I got sleepy and kept yawning in Mr. -Trevelyan’s face, in spite of myself. By the way, a queer thing -happened while we were rowing down the river. Do any of you happen to -know his first name?” - -“It’s Arthur,” said Babbie promptly. “I saw it on the invitation that -Mr. Benson had to the countess’s ball. It was addressed in care of Mr. -Arthur Trevelyan.” - -“That’s queer.” Betty repeated what the man in the punt had said. - -“Probably Lestrange is his second name,” suggested Madeline. “The -invitation might have read L. Arthur or Arthur L. Babbie wouldn’t have -noticed the initial.” - -“But just suppose it isn’t,” Betty argued. “I thought he looked queer, -and tried to hurry away, though that may all have been my imagination; -but anyhow it would have been the most natural thing in the world for -him to have explained.” - -“But he wouldn’t think of explaining if it is his other name,” Madeline -persisted, “any more than Babe would think of explaining if some one -happened to call her Sarah. However, of course Mr. Benson doesn’t -really know anything about him. Let’s suppose he is an adventurer, with -aliases and deep-laid schemes for separating the boys from their money. -You’d better write and warn them, Betty.” - -“Honestly, Betty, you ought,” added Babe, thinking of John’s Australian -schemes, which depended more or less on Mr. Trevelyan’s coöperation. - -“We shall see them all in the morning,” Babbie reminded them. “And -please don’t say anything to mother until you’re sure. She’ll be so -horrified to think that she allowed her innocent young daughter and -her daughter’s little friends to go around London in such dreadful -company.” - -So Betty decided to wait until morning. But though the girls scanned -the platform anxiously until the train pulled out of the station no one -appeared to see them off. - -“I knew they wouldn’t come,” Babe confided in savage tones to Betty. -“At least I knew John wouldn’t. I did what I told you I would, and he -was perfectly horrid--said it was just like a girl to want to decide -everything, and that of course he’d like to please me, but he must do -what he thought was best. So I gave him back his old cairngorm, and -there isn’t any exception to the rule of man-hating, after all. And I’m -perfectly miserable, so there now!” - -Several days later Babbie got a note from John, forwarded from her -Paris address, which seemed to disprove Babe’s theory. They had all -three gone to see the girls off, he explained, but Mr. Trevelyan had -for once proved unreliable; he had made an unaccountable mistake about -the station, which John had discovered too late to correct. So they -had waited for the girls at Paddington while the girls watched for them -in Waterloo. “He got us there an hour early too,” John wrote. “Insisted -that you said eight forty-five instead of nine. And we were all awfully -sleepy, because after we left you we took a long ’bus ride through the -East End and then stopped on the Embankment for supper. Dwight hasn’t -finished reading through the British Museum, so I don’t know when we -may get to Paris. However, I still find London very interesting”--a -conclusion which made everybody but Babe smile. - -This letter crossed with Betty’s note, telling John about the name by -which some of Mr. Trevelyan’s English friends knew him; so of course it -threw no light on the subject. The girls watched eagerly for another -letter, all through the week they spent at Saint Malo, but none came. -However, as Madeline remarked, Saint Malo was quite fascinating enough -without any adventurer stalking through its streets, and besides, one -didn’t need to speculate about imaginary adventures when you were -living in the midst of real ones. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -JASPER J. MORTON AGAIN - - -“MAXIM for travelers: Always begin your first trip to France -at Saint Malo,” announced Betty Wales, after they had explored the -quaint old town a little. Babbie and Madeline, the traveled contingent, -agreed that it was “just as dear and almost as dirty” as anything in -Italy, which was Madeline’s standard of real charm. Babe, being in a -state of subdued and pensive melancholy, said nothing and thought a -great deal--but not about Saint Malo. Madeline and Babbie supposed she -was missing John until Babe, unable to endure their constant chaffing -any longer, informed them curtly that she never wished to see him again -as long as she lived. Having freed her mind, she felt a little better; -but she sternly rejected sympathy, even from Betty, refused to confide -in Babbie, though the B’s had always told one another everything, and -spent most of her time on the hotel piazza facing the sea, sitting -in one of the hooded beach chairs that abound at all the continental -watering-places. The hood of this particular one was lined with pink -flowered cretonne, and it was so becoming that Babbie declared it was a -perfect shame the effect should be lost. - -“John would do anything she wanted if he could see her in that chair,” -she declared. “As for her not wanting to see him, she’s simply dying -to this very minute. Won’t it be interesting watching them make up in -Paris?” - -“Almost as interesting as it is watching Betty buy post-cards in -French,” laughed Madeline. - -“I don’t care if I am funny,” declared Betty stoutly. “I’m learning. -I can say almost anything I want to now, only I have to look up some -words in my dictionary. I’ve written my family that you can learn more -French here in a week than you do in a year at Harding.” - -“That’s a base slander on Harding,” returned Madeline promptly. “Here -you are engaging the entire time of two excellent tutors,--meaning -me and Miss Hildreth,--besides getting incidental instruction from -nearly every inhabitant of the town. You ought to be learning a little -something, my child.” - -“You never bought a dictionary either, at Harding,” put in Babbie. “You -used to borrow Nita’s.” - -Betty’s diminutive French dictionary had been her first purchase in -Saint Malo. In the crowd of porters and custom-house officials on the -landing-wharf she had discovered that she knew even less French than -she had supposed, and Madeline’s and Babbie’s easy intercourse with the -hotel servants and shop-keepers filled her with envy and despair. - -“I will learn,” she declared. “I never wanted to particularly before, -but now I want to more than anything. I won’t be carried along on this -trip like a piece of baggage, having to call one of you whenever I want -to ask for hot water or buy a postage stamp.” - -So she bought her dictionary and carried it with her everywhere, -bringing it out on all occasions, to the intense amusement of Babbie -and Madeline, who criticised her accent mercilessly, taught her the -most complicated idioms they could remember, and assisted her progress -by making her inquire the way about the town, do their shopping as -well as her own, and even flounder through protracted interviews with -the fat and obtuse old woman who rented bath-houses and suits on the -rocks just below the wall that encircled the town. With such strenuous -practice it was certainly no wonder, as Madeline had pointed out, that -Betty’s progress was rapid. - -Saint Malo is a tiny, sleepy town, shut in by a great wall. Its narrow, -crooked streets are lined with tall stone houses, there is a lovely -old church towering over everything, and on all sides, when the tide -is high, is the sea. At low tide there are great stretches of ugly -yellow sand flats, where it is not safe to walk because of treacherous -quicksands, and over which the incoming sea rushes “faster than a horse -can gallop,” so the natives tell you proudly. But there are small -bathing beaches close to the wall; there is the wall to promenade on; -there are the dark, stuffy little shops in the town where one buys -Brittany ware and Cluny lace, all “très bon marché,” of bright-eyed -peasant women in caps and sabots; and everywhere there is the -fascinating foreign atmosphere that is, after all, the crowning feature -in the charm of traveling. - -“I’m so glad we aren’t automobiling this time!” sighed Babbie. “James -wouldn’t have let us come here. He’d have fussed about the roads or the -garages or something of that sort. I hope we shall have time for some -more little out-of-the-way villages.” - -“There are dozens in this neighborhood,” the “man from Cook’s” assured -her. “We ought to be energetic and take some side-trips. We can go to -Dinard----” - -“That’s where I want to go,” broke in Mrs. Hildreth. “I’ve heard so -much about what a gay, pretty little place it is. Is it hard to get -there, Madeline?” - -“Not a bit,” responded Madeline, “only if we’re going to-day we ought -to start in a few minutes and have lunch there, because the tide is low -about noon, and at low tide the ferry-boat doesn’t run, or if it does -it starts from some inconvenient place.” - -“Then if Dinard is dressy, I can’t go,” said Betty sadly. “Every one of -my thin waists is torn, and it takes ages to mend them nicely.” - -“Then why don’t you come over in the afternoon and meet us there?” -suggested Madeline. “The pretty French girl who sits opposite us at -table d’hôte says that there is a Casino where they have music in the -afternoons. People motor in from the châteaux, and it’s great fun -sitting on the piazzas and watching the gaiety. I’ll wait and come with -you, if you like.” - -But Betty insisted that she could go perfectly well alone. “I can -say, ‘Ou est le casino?’ beautifully,” she declared, “and if I don’t -understand a word of the answer why I can just watch which way they -point. The lovely thing about French people is that they always point. -I’ll mend all my waists and take the ferry about four, or whenever the -tide is right, and meet you at the Casino.” - -And so at half-past three,--because, to tell the truth, it was -easier to be a little early than to ask the hotel clerk about the -tide,--Betty, dressed in her prettiest white suit and her hat with -the pink roses, came out of the hotel and started down the road to -the ferry landing. It was a hot day and the road was dusty, and she -hurried as fast as possible to get into the shelter of the little park -just back of the landing. But before she reached it she heard a shout -from the bottom of the landing-steps, and the next minute she realized -that somebody was calling her,--a stout gentleman, who, having detached -himself from the little crowd that had gathered there, was laboriously -climbing the steps to meet her, still calling and beckoning frantically -as he came. But instead of using her name he was shouting, “Miss B. A.! -Miss B. A.!” And this, before he was near enough to be recognized, gave -Betty the clue to his identity. It was Jasper J. Morton, of course. - -His coat was off, he carried his hat in his hand, and his face was red -with heat and indignation. - -“Do you speak English?” he demanded, when he was near enough to be -heard. “I mean do you speak French? I’ve been tearing around asking -people if they speak English until I’m hoarse.” - -“I’m very glad to see you again,” said Betty, holding out her hand -and trying not to smile at the absurd figure he cut. “I speak only a -little bit of French, but fortunately I have my dictionary along,”--she -pulled the little book out of a pocket in her linen coat--“and with -that I can generally manage pretty well.” - -“The point is,” Mr. Morton broke in impatiently, “do you speak French -enough to ascertain what has happened to this confounded ferry? I came -over here this morning from a place called Dinard. I came by ferry. I -climbed those identical steps.” He waved his hand dramatically toward -the landing. “I lunched and strolled around the town until it was -nearly time for me to meet my chauffeur in Dinard. Then I came back -here. The ferry is gone. The ocean is gone. Am I out of my senses, or -what’s happened?” He mopped his brow and glowered darkly at Betty. - -“The ferry hasn’t gone for good,” she assured him soothingly, “nor the -ocean. In a few minutes they’ll both be back and we can go to Dinard -together. I’m waiting for the ferry too.” And she explained about the -tides, which necessitated the intermittent service. - -[Illustration: “I HAVE MY DICTIONARY”] - -Jasper J. Morton stared out across the great stretch of bare sand. “Do -you mean to tell me that in a few minutes all that will be under water -enough to float a good-sized ferry-boat? Well, these tides must be -French, like all the rest of it. In that case it’s lucky I didn’t try -to walk out to the edge of the water to see if I couldn’t find a boat -there.” He looked at his watch. “I’m two hours late now. I’m never late -for my appointments. My chauffeur won’t know what to make of it. He -can’t speak French either, so he won’t be able to ask any questions.” - -Betty laughed. “You ought to get a dictionary like mine. It’s very -useful. Can I do anything else for you, Mr. Morton?” - -Mr. Morton looked at her sharply. “You can. You can come down the steps -with me and tell the man who insists on holding my coat that I don’t -want a guide, philosopher and friend, or whatever else he’s trying -to be to me, but that I do want my coat. Pay him off with these.” He -handed her some silver. - -With some difficulty Betty made the man understand that “le monsieur -Anglais” did not want a guide for the afternoon, nor a boatman, nor a -porter. - -“And now,” said Jasper J. Morton briskly, “comes the real business of -the moment. I’ve got to send some telegrams to Dol, where I’m stopping -and where I was to meet two friends on business at five o’clock. I -shan’t be there at five. Is your French equal to finding a telegraph -office?” - -Betty looked up several words in her dictionary, asked a question or -two, and they started off. At the telegraph office Mr. Morton wrote two -messages just alike: “Unavoidably detained. Back in evening. Clef d’Or -best hotel.” - -“That will fix them,” he said, smiling cheerfully at Betty. “They’ll -spend the afternoon in the sulks, thinking I’ve changed my mind and -won’t come in to their game. Now see that he reads them right and tell -him to hurry them off, and then we can talk English for a while. - -“I’ve done everything to-day that my doctor ordered me not to,” he -told her when they were on their way back to the ferry. “I’ve worried -about business, I’ve got overexcited and overheated, I’ve lost my -temper, and to-night I’m going to do business--the biggest deal I ever -put through. You’ve been a Benevolent Adventurer this time all right, -Miss--Miss----” - -“Wales,” Betty supplied. - -“Think I’ll have to call you Miss B. A.,” he laughed. “By the way, how -did you find out my name?” - -Betty had to think a minute. “Why, we met a man in London who knows -you, and then we know your son.” - -“You know John?” repeated Mr. Morton irritably. - -Betty nodded. “Don’t you remember I told you when we met before what a -good time we had in Oban? Well, he was the one we had it with--he and -Mr. Dwight. Only I didn’t know it then--I didn’t know he was your son, -I mean. And then in London we met him again.” - -“You did, eh?” Mr. Morton eyed her sharply. “Met him again in London? -Are you at the bottom of this new leaf of his that Dwight wrote me -about, Miss B. A.?” - -“Oh, no,” said Betty quickly, “but I think Babe is,--at least they got -to be awfully good friends, and she hates a shirk.” - -“Babe--that’s the little tomboy who stood up for you against me.” Mr. -Morton laughed at the recollection. “She’d be a match for John. She’d -make something of him if any one could. But what she can see in him -beats me. Oh, he’s a pleasant fellow enough, but he’ll never amount to -that, Miss B. A.” Jasper J. Morton snapped his fingers derisively. - -They had come out on the water-front and Betty, happening to look -ahead, saw that the tide had come in, and with it the ferry-boat, which -at that very moment gave a warning whistle. - -“Oh, dear, we’ve missed the boat!” she said, “and they only go once an -hour.” - -“No, we haven’t,” cried Mr. Morton. “What’s the French for ‘Wait’? You -tell me and I’ll shout it.” Which he did with such effect that the -captain reversed his engines and put back for them. - -“Attendez,” repeated Mr. Morton, when he had settled himself on board -and caught his breath. “Hope I can remember that. It will be sure to -come in handy somewhere. I haven’t any head for languages--never had. -Can’t talk to one of my foreign agents without an interpreter.” - -“It’s queer that your son should be so fine at languages,” said Betty, -glad to get in a word in John’s favor. “We’ve always thought that -Madeline Ayres was perfectly remarkable, but she says he is any amount -more so.” - -“Really?” Mr. Morton’s tone was unpleasantly sceptical. “Well, I don’t -know that I ever paid a bill for a tutor in languages, as far as that -goes.” - -“Oh, these aren’t the kinds you study at college,” Betty explained, “or -at least he knows them too, I suppose; but I was thinking of Dutch and -Danish and Russian and those queer kinds. He speaks ten different ones, -I think he said, and he can understand a few words of some others.” - -“This is all news to me,” said Jasper J. Morton drily. “How’d he learn -them?” - -“Down on some wharves that you own, he said. You do own some wharves, -don’t you?” - -Mr. Morton puckered his lips into a queer smile. “Well, I’m surprised -for once in my life--agreeably surprised. I didn’t suppose John had -any useful accomplishments.” - -Betty smiled engagingly. “Well, as long as you didn’t know about this -one, don’t you suppose he has lots of others that you don’t know about, -either?” - -Mr. Morton laughed good-naturedly. “So you think I’m inclined to look -on the dark side of things, do you, Miss B. A.? Well, I’ll write -the boy to-night, after I’ve scalped those two railroad presidents, -and tell him that I hear good accounts of him. I say, here we are -at Dinard, and actually there’s my chauffeur waiting for me. Waited -because it was the easiest thing to do, I suppose. Now you must let me -take you to your friends, only you’ll have to ask the way, because I -can’t.” - -As Betty waved him a good-bye from the steps of the Casino she thought -sadly of a great many things she might have said about John and hadn’t. -“It’s so difficult when you’ve been confided in and have to remember -what you mustn’t tell,” she thought. “Oh, dear, I meant to explain -about Mr. Blake and what I told him. I forgot that too. I hope Mr. -Morton won’t forget to write the letter to his son.” - -Her eyes followed Mr. Morton’s big red car as it turned a corner, and -there, walking briskly toward her, his eyes absently fixed on the -ground, his cynical expression even more pronounced than usual, was Mr. -Richard Blake himself. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -A “NEAR-ADVENTURE” - - -JUST as Betty discovered Mr. Blake he looked up and discovered -her. - -“How do you do?” he inquired gaily, striding across the street and up -the steps to shake hands. “I’m extra glad to see you because I regard -your appearance as a good omen. You’ve got another scoop up your sleeve -for me, now haven’t you?” - -“Do you mean that you haven’t found Mr. Morton yet?” demanded Betty, -dispensing with formal greetings in her haste to explain Mr. Morton’s -whereabouts. “Why, you just met him, Mr. Blake. He went around that -corner just now in his car.” - -“The mischief he did!” Mr. Blake turned and surveyed the corner -ruefully. “I was thinking of somebody--something else. I didn’t know -a car passed me. I say, I suppose you haven’t any idea where he was -going?” - -“To Dol. He told me he was staying there.” - -“He’ll change his mind on the way--I’ve chased him long enough now to -know his habits. Still it’s worth trying. See here, Miss Wales, don’t -you want to come along and introduce me,--or just countenance the -expedition by your presence? Jasper J. hates newspaper men, and you -might be a lot of help. It won’t take ten minutes to round him up. We -can go in that car.” He waved his hand at one drawn up by the curbing. - -“Of course I’ll come,” agreed Betty, “only I ought to go in and tell -Mrs. Hildreth first.” - -“No time,” objected Dick brusquely. “Every minute counts.” He ran down -the steps and began cranking the engine vigorously. “Get up in front -beside me, so we can talk.” - -Betty hesitated an instant and then, reflecting that ten minutes -couldn’t matter much, and wishing to be obliging, she jumped in. Mr. -Blake was beside her in an instant, and before she had had time to -button her coat or pull her veil tight, they were fairly whizzing down -the hill. - -“You don’t mind going fast, do you?” asked Mr. Blake absently, his eyes -on the sharp rise beyond. - -Betty’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I never went fast enough yet. I -didn’t know you had a car with you, Mr. Blake.” - -“Oh, I haven’t,” he explained quickly. “This belongs to an old pal of -mine--somebody you know, by the way. Remember Mrs. Bob, who chaperoned -Madeline’s house-party? Well, this is her husband’s car. You remember -him, too, and the awful daubs he painted? We guyed him about them until -he took it to heart and went West to make his fortune. Put all his -money in a Texas oil well, had beginner’s luck, and now he’s drawing -a thousand a week from that well. And prosperity has improved his -painting, too, until he turns out very decent things. He’s working in -the garden next the Casino this afternoon. I was to come for him about -this time, and we were going for a little spin in the cool of the -afternoon.” - -“Won’t he be worried about his car?” - -“Probably, if he goes out to look for it,” said Mr. Blake calmly. “But -he ought to have something to worry over. He’s getting disgracefully -fat. Do you know, Miss Wales, our friend Jasper J. is going the pace -all right, if that cloud of dust ahead is his outfit.” - -“We’re catching up a little though, aren’t we?” asked Betty anxiously. - -“We certainly are,” Dick assured her, “but I’m afraid it’s no ten -minute job we’ve tackled. I didn’t know he was such a reckless driver. -I’m sorry I got you out here on false pretences, Miss Wales. Will Mrs. -Hildreth worry?” - -“Not unless I’m awfully late,” said Betty cheerfully. “And, anyway, we -can’t help it now. I certainly can’t walk back and you can’t take me -back; you’d surely lose Mr. Morton if you did that.” - -“Exactly.” Mr. Blake’s eyes were on the white road ahead, and he spoke -in jerky sentences, keeping time to the throb of the machine. “I should -lose the trail, and the last chance of making good on this assignment. -Time’s up to-morrow, you know. When I met you I was blue as indigo--saw -myself sailing back to New York with my reputation for being the best -sleuth in town knocked to splinters. So Mrs. Hildreth and Bob Enderby -will both have to bear up as best they can.” - -“It’s queer how I’ve happened on Mr. Morton twice just in time to -accommodate you,” laughed Betty. - -“Mighty lucky for me,” said Richard briefly. “You’re cold, Miss Wales. -Reach under the seat and you’ll find something in the way of a wrap.” - -Betty reached, and drew out a leather coat. “How stunning!” she said, -pulling it around her shoulders. “Is it yours or Mr. Enderby’s?” - -“It’s Bob’s.” He turned to look. “I say, that’s a new one on me. -Bob’s blossoming out in awfully swell togs all of a sudden. He’s been -sporting an old corduroy coat that his wife wouldn’t have in the -studio.” - -“Mr. Blake, the other car has stopped!” cried Betty eagerly. - -“It has, for sure. You certainly do bring luck, Miss Wales! Now here -goes for one last desperate spurt.” - -They dashed along the straight white road in silence, Betty wondering -rather anxiously how Jasper J. Morton would receive them, Mr. Blake -intent on his work, until suddenly he gave an impatient little -exclamation, and slowing down, leaned forward to listen to his engine. - -“The gasoline can’t be low,” he muttered angrily. “I took her to be -filled myself and Bob just ran her around the town a bit afterward.” He -went slower still to make sure. “It is low,” he told Betty dejectedly. -“It’s horribly low. We shall be lucky if we catch him where he is now. -If he starts on we’re lost.” - -“Oh, well, perhaps he won’t start on,” said Betty cheerfully, “at least -not if we hurry.” - -Dick started the car again. “I say, but you’re game,” he declared -admiringly. “A good many girls would dislike the charming prospect of -having to go home in a Brittany farm-wagon.” He squinted at the big car -ahead. “Jasper J. can’t take us back. He’s punctured one of his back -tires. He’ll be in an angelic mood to receive us.” - -Betty gave a nervous little laugh. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” - -Mr. Blake sighed. “I oughtn’t to have brought you, Miss Wales--I don’t -see how I ever thought of such a foolish scheme. But now that you’re -here you’re just to sit in the car, while I go and inquire the way to -the nearest gasoline supply, and incidentally, as I inquire, discover -that I’m talking to a man I want most awfully to see. It’s all going to -be beautiful and casual, and I shall refer to you only if everything -else fails.” - -By this time they were very near Mr. Morton’s car, and their own was -crawling so slowly that Mr. Blake drew it up by the roadside and, -tooting his horn a few times by way of encouraging Mr. Morton to wait -for him, started briskly off to his interview. - -“You’ll be in plain sight of us,” he told Betty, “so you can’t get -lonely, and you can have oceans of fun watching Jasper J. turn me -down--or try to.” - -Betty, watching him go, wished she had thought it fair to tell him -about the railroad presidents who were waiting at Dol. “But I couldn’t -do that,” she reflected. “I’m afraid I’ve told him too much as it is.” - -Meanwhile there was a good deal of excitement at the Dinard Casino--the -“high-life Casino,” so read the tickets of admission and the placard -by the door. It wasn’t about Betty; Mrs. Hildreth and the girls had -been wondering about her non-appearance, but they had scarcely reached -the worrying stage as yet. The excitement had to do with a scandal in -“high-life.” A young Frenchman had driven his car in from a near-by -château, had barely stepped inside the Casino, and come back to find -the car gone. He had immediately borrowed a racing machine and rushed -off in hot pursuit, leaving the Casino piazzas agog with strange -rumors. These flew about chiefly in French, but Madeline and Babbie -caught snatches and told the others. The most picturesque detail was -the fact that the Casino’s porter had stood unsuspectingly and watched -the thief and his confederate, a pretty young girl, drive off. The -girl had come and stood on the steps,--looking in, supposedly, to make -sure that the coast was clear. She was English or perhaps American, -was young, with curly golden hair, was dressed all in white, and had -nothing of the air of the adventuress about her. Madeline and Babbie -exchanged bewildered glances, suppressed some details, and covertly -assured each other that Betty was too old and too sensible to let -herself be kidnapped in broad daylight. And how otherwise should she be -helping to steal automobiles? It was too ridiculous! - -This was just what an excited young Frenchman, having stopped his -racing car with a skilful turn close beside her, and caught her -attention by a low bow and a deferential “Pardon, Madame,” was -demanding of her in rapid-fire French, which dazzled poor Betty’s mind -into absolute blankness. - -“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand,” she said sadly at last. “That is, -Jé ne comprend pas. If you can’t speak English, you’d better ask Mr. -Blake. Demandez à ce monsieur.” She pointed ahead. - -“Ah!” The Frenchman’s black eyes flashed with pleasure as he noticed -Mr. Blake. He turned to a man in uniform in the tonneau and they -conversed in more rapid-fire French, after which the man in uniform -jumped out of the Frenchman’s car and then with another “Pardon, -Madame,” calmly climbed into Betty’s. This was strange enough, but -the effect of the Frenchman’s communication on Mr. Blake, who spoke -French like a native, was even stranger. He listened a minute, asked a -quick question, and then started on the run toward Betty, with Jasper -J. Morton panting behind him. When Mr. Blake started, the man in -uniform hopped nimbly out and stood in the middle of the road, as if to -intercept his passage, and when he rushed around to the back of the car -the man in uniform was instantly beside him. - -“It’s true, all right,” he told Betty a minute later, coming around to -her side. “Oh, you didn’t understand? He says I’ve stolen a car, and I -have. That’s not Bob’s number. This car is absolutely like his in every -other way--except for the lack of gasoline and the different coat, of -course. And how was I to know that Bob hadn’t squandered his gasoline -and bought a new coat?” - -“Miss B. A.! Are you here?” cried Mr. Morton, coming up behind Dick. -“Then perhaps you’ll be good enough to explain. This gentleman asked me -to lend him gasoline enough to get to a garage, and instead of waiting -for my answer he begins to jabber French and then runs off like a -madman.” - -“Why, we’ve stolen a car,” explained Betty. “That is, Mr. Blake took -the wrong one by mistake, and these people thought he did it on -purpose.” - -“Took the wrong car by mistake,” muttered Mr. Morton. “Well, I don’t -doubt it, since you vouch for the gentleman, but otherwise it would -look very black to me. Is he given to making mistakes of that sort?” - -“Oh, no,” cried Betty quickly. “But you see we were in such a hurry, -and I suppose he was pretty much excited because it was his last chance -and so important and all----” - -“Wait a minute,” commanded Mr. Morton peremptorily. “I don’t follow -you. What was your tremendous hurry? What was the gentleman’s last -chance that it was of the utmost importance he should utilize?” - -“Oh, hadn’t he told you?” asked Betty. “But of course he hadn’t had -time to. Why--please don’t be angry, Mr. Morton, but we were chasing -you. Mr. Blake’s newspaper sent him over here to interview you, and he -has missed you ever so many times, and he couldn’t stay any longer than -to-day.” She paused to see what the effect of her announcement would -be. - -“You and a New York reporter chasing me in a stolen automobile! A -pretty story that would make!” Jasper J. Morton’s tone was deeply -indignant. Then he looked from Betty’s solemn face to Mr. Blake, who -was hot from his run and his valiant efforts to convince the Dinard -police sergeant of his innocence, then at the Frenchman, alert and -smiling, as he awaited the outcome of the discussion, and his eyes -began to twinkle. “Does he know about those railroad presidents in -Dol?” he demanded, jerking his thumb toward Mr. Blake. - -Betty explained that she hadn’t considered herself at liberty to tell -Mr. Blake that. - -“Just chased me on general principles,” he chuckled. “Well, I’ve been -chased pretty hard sometimes, but never by a pretty girl in a stolen -automobile, so far as I remember. Hi there, young man,” he raised his -voice. “Come over here and tell me how all this happened.” Then, as -Dick deserted the sergeant, he added, “Miss B. A. here is trying to -make me think that I’m to blame.” - -Dick laughed. “Then I suppose she’s told you that it was awfully -important to me to see you. If I could just ask you a few questions, -Mr. Morton, before I go back with this man, I should be everlastingly -obliged. He insists on putting me under arrest. I’ve got a friend in -Dol who’ll go bail for me, but until then the best I can do is to make -him let Miss Wales off.” He smiled dejectedly at Betty. - -“Put you under arrest, indeed!” sniffed Jasper J. Morton. “Why, it -was a clear case of mistake, wasn’t it? She says it was. You’ve got a -friend who’s got a car like that, haven’t you? You can show ’em--the -car and the friend--as soon as we get into Dinard. You’ll ride back -with me, both of you, if my man ever gets that puncture mended.” Jasper -J. Morton pulled out a roll of fifty-franc notes and flourished them at -the sergeant, who was staring uncomprehendingly. “How much do you want, -my good fellow? I’ll go bail, or whatever you please to call it. Ask -him how much he wants, Miss B. A. Where’s your dictionary? No,” as Mr. -Blake started forward, “you wait a minute. She’ll manage him best.” - -So Betty explained what Mr. Morton wanted, with frequent promptings -from that impatient gentleman; and the sergeant, accepting a small fee -“for the accommodation,” agreed to take the gentleman’s word and his -friend’s word that they would both appear in court at Dinard, if, after -the aggrieved Frenchman had seen Mr. Bob’s car and interviewed its -owner, he was not willing to accept Mr. Blake’s apology and withdraw -his suit. As a matter of fact, all the Frenchman wanted was his car -back unharmed; he had brought the police sergeant only in case of -emergency. And as the policeman couldn’t drive a car, he was glad to -accept Mr. Morton’s offer that his chauffeur, who had at last finished -repairing the tire, should put in enough gasoline from his machine to -carry the stalled car to a garage and should then drive it back to -Dinard. - -“I’m going to drive mine myself,” Mr. Morton announced. “That’s another -thing that my doctor told me not to do, you know. Blake, get in behind -with Miss B. A.” - -But Betty protested that she was tired and wanted the tonneau to -herself. As a matter of fact, she was sure that if Mr. Blake and Mr. -Morton rode together, Mr. Morton would never be able to resist telling -about the railroad presidents cooped up in Dol waiting for him. And -sure enough, it was only a few minutes before she heard him say, -“That’ll make a great story, you know. Sleepy French town--nothing -happened there for centuries--doesn’t know the meaning of high finance. -Americans choose it as neutral ground on which to discuss biggest -traffic coup in history. Wall Street feels the shock. Oh, I suppose you -can turn out that sort of thing much better than I can. You come over -to Dol and see the fun. I’ll introduce you as my secretary. Can you act -a little like a secretary?” - -After a while she heard him ask, “Do you always chase everything you -want as hard as you chased me? I like to see a man chase hard.” - -Madeline and Babe were on the Casino steps waiting to get the first -possible sight of the crowd coming up from the ferry, for if Betty -didn’t come on this boat they were all going back to Saint Malo in the -hope of finding her there. But before Betty, assisted by Mr. Blake and -Mr. Morton, had finished explaining herself, the Frenchman, who had -waited to pilot his own car to a garage, came up, and Madeline deserted -her friends to rush at him with such a friendly greeting and such a -torrent of questions in French, that she immediately became the centre -of interest. - -“Dick Blake,” she began, bringing the smiling Frenchman over to the -other group, “do you mean to tell me that you’ve forgotten my cousin -Edmond, after all the fun we had together in Paris? That’s as bad as -Edmond’s having forgotten his English, so that he couldn’t tell Betty -in plain terms that she was a thief.” - -“Ah, Madeline!” He turned to Betty, eager to deny such an intention, -but his face fell and he made a comical gesture of inadequacy. “It ez -so far away! I cannot say my meaning.” - -“So long ago, you mean, don’t you, young man?” asked Mr. Morton, -eyeing him as if he were some sort of strange animal. “See here, these -reunions are all very interesting, but I’m getting hungry. Now, why -can’t you all have dinner with me at that hotel over there? Baedeker -says it’s the best in the place. A sort of peace festival, you know. -Miss B. A., suppose you take me in and present me to Mrs. Hildreth and -see what she says about it.” - -Babe had hurried in ahead of them with the news of Betty’s safe return, -without waiting to have any conversation with Mr. Morton. But when the -dinner project was approved by Mrs. Hildreth and Mr. Morton insisted -that “the little tomboy” must sit on his left, Babe made no objection, -and she had spirited repartees ready for all Mr. Morton’s sallies. She -even went so far as to tell him about the Harvard-Cambridge race and -ask him, as she had promised John she would, to take her to see it. - -“Sure you won’t throw me over for a younger beau?” he asked her. “He’s -likely to be in London then if I am, you know.” - -But Babe only laughed unconcernedly, and assured him that she never, -never broke engagements. - -The party separated early because, as Mr. Morton explained jovially, he -and Mr. Blake had urgent business in Dol. Mr. Blake had managed to sit -beside Madeline at dinner, and had told her all about his success with -Mr. Morton, and what he hoped might come of it. - -“I just must tell some one or I’ll burst,” Blake confided. “Mr. Morton -has been asking me about the magazine. ‘If you had a hundred thousand -or so and a free hand, could you win out with it?’ he asked me. So who -knows, Madeline--my chance may have come at last!” - -“Oh, Dick,” Madeline began, breathlessly, “wouldn’t that be---- I’m -going to touch wood right away,” she added, suiting the action to the -word. Dick laughed, but his eyes were shining with a new hope and -purpose. - -“He never mentioned Eleanor, of course,” Madeline told the others, as -they brushed their hair in Babe’s room and discussed the events of the -most exciting day of the summer. “But that’s why he cares so much. He -used to be the most indifferent, blasé person you ever saw.” - -“What I don’t understand,” said Babbie, carefully barricading herself -from a storm of pillows, “is why a person who doesn’t want to see -another person as long as she lives should invite another person’s -father to take her to a boat-race, knowing that another person will be -there too.” - -“Your English is mixed,” retorted Babe with all her customary levity, -“but if you mean me and Mr. Morton and the race in London, why I -promised to ask him ages ago, and I wouldn’t back down now just because -John and I were silly and quarreled. John was your friend to begin -with, and if he tags his father to the race you can look after him, I -guess.” - -“I don’t look after men; I let them look after me,” announced Babbie -with dignity. - -“Don’t squabble,” said Madeline. “I’ve got an idea. I believe Arthur -Lestrange Trevelyan, or Lestrange Arthur Trevelyan, is all right. Think -how black things looked for Dick to-day, with only the thin excuse -of having made a mistake about the automobiles. If Edmond had been a -bad-tempered person and the police sergeant had been incorruptible, -they’d certainly have arrested him.” - -“And Betty too,” put in Babbie. “Think of poor innocent little Betty’s -being arrested!” - -“He must be all right--Mr. Trevelyan, I mean,” suggested Babe, “because -as soon as John got your letter, he and Mr. Benson would have gone to -work to find out about him, and if he hadn’t been all right they’d -certainly have written to us before this.” - -“Well, I’m going to bed,” said Betty, yawning vigorously. “I’m sleepy, -and if your cousin is going to take us automobiling all day to-morrow -and comes for us as early as he said, we’ve got to be up betimes.” - -“Too true,” agreed Madeline. “But please don’t hold us responsible for -the strenuous life we’re leading. It’s all your fault, Miss B. A.” - -“I didn’t do a single thing I could help,” protested Betty. - -But Madeline insisted gaily that it had all been a preconceived plan -on Betty’s part to make her dominant interest fill most space in the -annals of “B. A.’s Abroad.” - -“You began with mild little benevolent adventures,” she said, “and now -you’ve had what Roberta Lewis would call a near-adventure. Next thing -you know you’ll plunge us all into a real adventure--the kind you read -about in novels.” - -“Wouldn’t that be great?” sighed Babe sleepily. “Now please run away -and let me have a little peace.” - -But Madeline and Babbie were still wide awake. They sat on the edge of -poor Babe’s bed for an hour longer inventing “real adventures” that -should materialize in Paris. - -“The thing we need is an adventurer,” complained Madeline sadly, “that -is, unless Mr. Trevelyan will ‘oblige with the part,’ as they say at -actors’ benefits. We’ll ask Edmond about the haunts of adventurers. -Perhaps he’ll be able to put us on the track of a king in exile looking -for an American wife, or a prime minister watching for a lady to drop -her handkerchief as a signal that she is his fellow conspirator. You -see I have to leave you in Paris and I do want a grand excitement of -some sort before I go.” - -“Paris gowns are quite exciting,” suggested Babbie, dragging Madeline -off to bed at last. “I’m not counting on the ball, because it’s so -uncertain.” - -“Why how stupid of us to have forgotten the ball,” began Madeline -eagerly. “We could start a perfectly magnificent adventure with that.” - -But Babbie put her fingers over her ears and ran away. “It’s awfully -late,” she explained, “and besides, I shall want to go to the dance -more than ever if you make up a lovely story about it. So good-night.” - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -A REAL ADVENTURE - - -MADELINE’S cousin Edmond, who was motoring about Brittany with -a friend, took the girls to the quaint old shrine of Mount St. Michel -and promised them other expeditions equally delightful if they would -only stay on for a few days longer at Saint Malo or Dinard. But Mrs. -Hildreth felt anxious to get to Paris, which was really the goal of -all her trips abroad, and Babbie had her own reason--the countess’s -ball,--for not wanting their arrival delayed beyond the appointed day. -Babe couldn’t have explained even to herself why she wanted to be in -Paris, but she did. And Betty and Madeline, not wishing to be in the -opposition and being sure of a good time either way, were perfectly -satisfied with Mrs. Hildreth’s decision to go on just as they had -intended. - -“And we’ll go to Madeline’s pension, shan’t we, mummie?” asked Babbie, -a trifle anxious lest Mrs. Hildreth should insist on the hotel where -she always stayed. - -“And it’s just as ordinary and commonplace as if it were in New York,” -Babbie had told the girls sadly, with a newly awakened perception that -her traveling had hitherto been of a very commonplace variety. But Mrs. -Hildreth only asked what were the especial merits of Madeline’s pension. - -“She won’t tell,” explained Babbie, looking beseechingly at Madeline, -who only returned a serene smile. “She just says it’s queer and quaint -and the kind of thing we all like, and that we can see what it’s like, -if we go there.” - -“But if we don’t go there, you simply must describe it, Madeline,” said -Betty so solemnly that Mrs. Hildreth laughed and declared they would -patronize Madeline’s pension. - -Finally, after a long day’s ride in the Paris express and a drive -across the city in the queer taximeter cabs--where you sit and watch -the distance and the francs for the fare, pile up in the indicator and -forget, in the absorbing interest of this occupation, to look around -you at the sights of the strange city--the driver of the first cab -stopped before a blank wall in a narrow, rather dirty street. Upon -being admonished by Babbie that he was wrong he pointed inexorably -at the number on the wall, and even Babe, most ardent admirer of -Madeline’s theories, gave a gasp of dismay. The two girls were with -Mrs. Hildreth, while Betty and Madeline were behind, and Marie was in a -third carriage with most of the baggage. - -“Careful, Babe,” Mrs. Hildreth whispered. “We don’t want to hurt -Madeline’s feelings--nor Mademoiselle’s.” For Madeline had written -ahead for rooms, and when the porter opened the door in the high and -dingy wall, a pretty Frenchwoman was running across the graveled -courtyard inside, eager to greet her guests. - -“We’ll stay here to-night,” Mrs. Hildreth decided hastily, “and then in -the morning I can easily make an excuse to change.” - -Mademoiselle was certainly charming, if her front door--or front -gate--was not. Smiling and chatting, she led the way across the court -to the old stone mansion and helped her two little maids show the -party up-stairs and settle each one’s baggage in the room she chose. -Madeline, Babe and Betty had single rooms, all looking out on still -another court. This one was shut in on three sides by ivy-covered stone -walls, and shaded by a great magnolia tree; and enticing little green -tables, like those in the cafés at Saint Malo, stood about here and -there. The rooms themselves were long and narrow--just like cells, Babe -declared with a shiver--and as soon as she was dressed she went down -into the courtyard to wait for dinner. When the girls found her she was -sitting on the gravel scratching the back of a big turtle, which, she -joyously informed her friends, was attraction number one of Madeline’s -pension. - -“Its name is Virginia--no, that’s not right. What’s the French of -Virginia? Virginie, then. And it knows its name, only it won’t answer -unless it knows you. At least, that’s what I understood Mademoiselle to -say. I’m scratching its back so beautifully that it ought to follow me -around like a dog hereafter.” - -Attraction number two was a very good dinner, and attraction number -three was going to bed by candle-light, which made the tiny rooms seem -more like cells than ever. But Betty suggested that they were more -like nuns’ cells than prisoners’, and Babe said she liked the idea of -being a nun--it was very much like being a man-hater when you came to -think of it. - -Attraction number four was the best of all; it was having breakfast -in the garden. Mademoiselle had explained that they could have -“petite dejeuner,” which means coffee or chocolate and crusty rolls, -whenever they liked, and they had all agreed to be ready at half-past -eight--which is really very early indeed in Europe--so as to have a -long day for sightseeing. Betty got down first and was going into the -dining-room to wait for the others, when a servant asked her to sit -in the garden instead, and before she knew what was happening, her -breakfast appeared on a tray. Just then Babe pulled back her curtains -and stuck her head out of the window to see how the garden looked so -early; and giving a shriek of delight, she rushed down to eat, too. -Mrs. Hildreth hadn’t been much impressed by Virginie or the candles, -but she was as delighted as the girls with breakfast under the magnolia -tree, and she readily agreed to wait a little before deserting -Madeline’s pension. - -The first thing that every one wanted to do after breakfast was to call -at the American Express Office for mail. It had been accumulating ever -since they left London, so there was plenty to go around--letters and -papers from home for all the party, and for Babbie a note from Billy -Benson. - -“He got here last night, too,” she explained, “and he’s still with Mr. -Trevelyan, so evidently it’s all right about the name. He wants our -address and says he’ll be around to see us late this afternoon, and -possibly Mr. Trevelyan’s sister may come, too. He was telephoning her -while Billy wrote. Oh, dear, I don’t believe mother’s going to want me -to go to the dance, after all. But I’ll answer this so they’ll know -where to find us.” - -Initiating Betty and Babe into the delights of Paris was an exciting -task, and by the middle of the afternoon they were all quite ready -to go home, put on their thinnest dresses, and drink iced tea under -the magnolia tree while they waited for the advent of Billy and Mr. -Trevelyan. It was six o’clock, however, before the men arrived, hot, -tired, and in Billy’s case, somewhat out of temper. - -“It’s an awfully out-of-the-way street,” he complained. “Why, Trevelyan -knows Paris like a book, but he couldn’t find it. We’ve walked and -walked and asked and asked. We were late starting in the first place, -though, because Trevelyan’s sister didn’t come.” - -“It’s very odd,” Mr. Trevelyan put in. “She was to have come to our -hotel at three, after doing some shopping with her friend. It was -perfectly understood, but we waited till four and she did not come. I -am sure only some unavoidable accident has prevented her joining us.” - -“Surely your mother will let you go all the same to-morrow?” Billy -asked Babbie. - -Babbie looked doubtful. “I don’t know. Not that she would blame your -sister, Mr. Trevelyan; but she’s awfully particular about chaperons and -she isn’t strong enough to chaperon me to dances and things herself. -She’s lying down now, but I’ll write you the first thing in the -morning. Will that be soon enough to decide?” - -“Sure,” said Billy gaily, “only we thought--Trevelyan has errands to -do in the morning, but he suggested that we meet in the early part of -the afternoon for a little sight-seeing. You could let us know then, -you see.” - -“If you haven’t been to the Louvre yet, we might have a look at that -together,” suggested Mr. Trevelyan gravely. “I understand some of the -finest galleries are to be closed next week for repairs.” - -“Oh, I’m so glad you warned us in time,” said Madeline. “I’m always -missing things at the Louvre because they’re closed for repairs. Where -shall we meet and when?” - -Mr. Trevelyan suggested two o’clock, at the main entrance by the -umbrella stand, and then he rose to go. “I am worried about my sister. -If she has sent no word I must wire,” he said. - -Billy rose too. “I should never find my way back alone,” he said. “I’m -dumb as an oyster over here. It’s great being with some one who knows -the ropes.” - -The girls protested against their going so soon, when they had expended -so much time and trouble in coming, but Mr. Trevelyan insisted that -he must get back at once, and Billy laughingly declared that the girls -would have to see him safely home if he stayed and then he would have -to see them safely back, and so ad infinitum. - -When Babbie consulted her mother about the dance, Mrs. Hildreth -listened to the story of the boys’ call, and after a little -consideration decided that she couldn’t allow Babbie to go. - -“Billy is a dear boy,” she said, “and his friend seems a thoroughly -nice fellow, but I couldn’t think of letting you go to a dance with -them out in some suburb of Paris, unless I knew you were in charge of -a sensible, careful chaperon. Mr. Trevelyan’s sister may or may not -answer the description. We have no idea how old she is, or what sort of -person she is, or whether she even understands from her brother that -you would be in her charge. Evidently you wouldn’t be while you were -going and coming. Oh, it’s quite impossible.” - -And Babbie admitted sadly that it was. She brightened at once, however. -“If I’m as sleepy to-morrow night as I am to-night, I shouldn’t enjoy -it. After all, you can go to plenty of dances at home, and you can’t go -to these fascinating galleries and museums and churches. I should waste -to-morrow and perhaps the day after if I went to the dance. Now I can -go ahead and get as tired as I like seeing things.” - -So Babbie and Madeline conducted the novices to Notre Dame, took them -up in the tower to get a near view of the gargoyles, and then hunted -up the shop on the Rue Bonaparte where you can buy small plaster -gargoyles, exactly like those on the cathedral for two francs and fifty -centimes each. It took so long to decide which Roberta would prefer, -and which was best suited to K.’s taste and to Rachel’s, that the girls -had to snatch a hasty luncheon at an English tea-room near the Louvre -in order to be at the appointed rendezvous by two o’clock. But they did -get there exactly at the appointed time, in spite of a little dispute -between Babbie and Madeline about which was the “main entrance” to the -Louvre. However, Babbie was speedily convinced that the main entrance -was the one that had been built for the main entrance--the one with -the splendid façade and not the one at the opposite side that happened -to be more conveniently situated and was consequently most used by -visitors. However, when they had waited fifteen minutes and the men had -not appeared, the subject began to be agitated again. - -“Well, what does it matter?” demanded Babbie, who hated to be kept -waiting and was consequently rather out of temper. “They can reason the -thing out just as well as we can. If they’ve gone to the other entrance -and don’t find us there, they can come here. It’s their place to find -us, not ours to hunt for them.” - -“I think it’s silly to stick here, just the same,” said Babe. “Why -don’t Madeline and I walk through to the other entrance and see if -they’re there?” - -“Because they ought to do the walking,” persisted Babbie. “They asked -us to come and meet them, and anyhow it’s always the man’s place to do -the hunting. I’m not going to have you chase up Billy Benson to tell -him whether or not he’s going to take me to a dance to-night.” - -Whereupon Madeline murmured that it was Babbie’s party, not hers, and -Babe and Betty declared they would wait until exactly quarter to three -and then they were going to see the Mona Lisa. - -And at quarter to three they went, Babbie giving a reluctant consent to -their making a detour past the other possible rendezvous. But Billy and -Mr. Trevelyan were not there, and when Madeline inquired of the very -stolid guard he only shrugged his shoulders and said there had been any -number of young men passing in since two o’clock. Some had waited, some -not. - -“Seems to me Mr. Trevelyan isn’t such a good conductor as he has the -reputation for being,” said Betty. “Yesterday he didn’t meet his -sister, and nearly didn’t find us, and to-day his arrangements haven’t -worked out very well.” - -“Well, fortunately it doesn’t matter,” said Babbie, sitting down with -a rapturous little sigh before the Mona Lisa. “The pictures are here, -and after we’ve seen a few we can go and have some of those little -boat-shaped strawberry tarts that we saw in the patisserie window. If -they’d taken us somewhere to eat we should probably have had to have -stupid ices.” - -“And the moral, as our friend Mary would say,” laughed Madeline, “is -that when you’re hunting alone you can do as you please, which is an -advantage that our friend Mary has forever forfeited. Who votes to have -the strawberry tarts soon?” - -“Maxim for travelers,” said Babe, dejectedly, “‘when you’ve had enough, -stop,’ and enough is what you can see in just a little more than half a -day.” - -So the girls had crossed the Seine on the top of a lumbering tram, and -walked from the Luxembourg Gardens, where a concert was going on, to -the queer little street where Madeline’s pension was hidden; and they -had cooled off, rested, and dressed for dinner before a maid brought -Babbie a card--Billy Benson’s. - -“Ask him into the garden and say I’ll be there in a moment,” Babbie -ordered, and went down after a perfectly needless delay, by way of -preliminary discipline, prepared to receive Billy’s excuses coldly -and to give him a very unhappy quarter of an hour in return for the -annoyance he had caused her earlier in the afternoon. - -But Billy made no excuses. Instead he announced blandly, “Well, I’m two -hundred dollars poorer than I was last night and a good deal wiser, -and I feel like a young idiot; but it certainly makes a good story, if -that’s any consolation.” - -Babbie stared. “What do you mean? Why aren’t you on your way to your -dance?” - -Billy grinned. “Dance is off--that is, Trevelyan is dancing somewhere, -I guess, but all I get is a chance to pay the piper. You see, it was -this way--well, I’ll have to begin with this morning.” - -“Wait,” commanded Babbie, crossing to Babe’s window and giving the -B’s familiar trill. “Come down, all three of you,” she called, when -Babe’s head appeared between the curtains. “Mr. Benson has had a real -adventure, and we’re on the edge of it ourselves.” - -“You’re the causes of the final catastrophe,” accused Billy smilingly, -as Babbie came back to him. “If you’d made the proper connections -with us this afternoon, Trevelyan couldn’t have pulled off his grand -dénouement. Where were you, anyhow?” - -“Right where we belonged,” said Babbie firmly. “You begin with this -morning, and we’ll fill in our part when the time comes.” - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -A NOISY PARISIAN GHOST - - -“MAKES me feel like the greenest variety of green freshman,” -said Billy, when he had shaken hands all around, “but still I do think -he managed awfully well, and that he’d have taken in almost anybody -with his smooth stories. Of course I haven’t traveled much, but -still----” - -“Do go ahead and tell us about his taking your money,” begged Babbie -impatiently, “and then we can discuss him to our hearts’ content.” - -Billy nodded assent. “Well,” he began, “you all know about our coming -over to Paris together. Naturally, as I can’t speak French, Trevelyan -chose the hotel--one he knew about on the Rue de Rivoli--and our rooms -opened together.” Billy chuckled. “I thought of that when I gave him -the money. Made me feel extra sure about getting it back.” - -“Do go straight along,” commanded Babbie. “If you don’t you’ll never -get to the robbery part.” - -“Oh, it wasn’t a robbery,” laughed Billy. “It was something much -smoother. I’ll get to it in a minute. You know already about our going -sightseeing yesterday and then coming here. Well, when we got home -there was a note from Trevelyan’s missing sister.” Billy paused. “Come -to think of it, I didn’t see that note. But if I had, it might have -been faked just the same. Anyhow Trevelyan said there was a note from -his sister to say that the countess was prostrated by the heat, and -they’d had to hurry home right after lunch. That sounded perfectly -reasonable. It was a beastly hot day, and of course if the countess was -sick, somebody had to go home with her. The sister said also that she -was beginning to be in a hurry to get into her own house, and Trevelyan -said that if I didn’t mind he guessed we’d better do a little shopping -this morning. It seems that his sister had ordered different things for -the house put aside for his approval, and he was to go to the shops -and look at them and have them sent out.” Billy paused reflectively. -“Sounds reasonable enough, doesn’t it?” - -The girls nodded. “Do go on,” urged Madeline. - -“Well,” Billy took up the tale, “this morning we started out in a -taximeter cab. First we went to two or three big stores and Trevelyan -looked at rugs and curtains and one thing and another that his sister -had selected and ordered them sent out to their house. At least he said -so. My not speaking French made me an easy mark for any tale he wanted -to tell me. Once or twice he counted his money to see if he had enough -to do one more errand with before we went to the bank. It was too early -to go when we started.” - -“Did he actually pay for the curtains and things?” asked Babe. - -Billy hesitated. “I--well, I guess I didn’t notice. Judging by the -sequel I’m pretty sure he didn’t. But he pretended that he had, and -finally he said we must go to the bank next. I waited in the carriage. -When he came back he was awfully put out. It seems there is a rule in -this town that you can’t draw money from a bank--from that one where -he had his account anyway--until you’ve been here three days. Something -to do with the police regulations about foreign visitors. His three -days wouldn’t be up till to-morrow, so he couldn’t draw any money. He -said he’d known the rule before but he’d forgotten about it.” - -“Well, couldn’t his shopping wait a day?” asked Babe. - -“All but one item,” answered Billy solemnly. “You see the ball to-night -was to be in honor of his sister’s birthday, and he wanted to take her -a birthday present. She’d chosen that, too, at his request, and we -went to look at it. It was a beauty of a pearl pendant. Trevelyan told -the shop-keeper how he was fixed, and ordered the pendant kept for him -until to-morrow. Naturally I asked if I couldn’t accommodate him with a -little loan, so we could take the pendant out with us to-night. But he -thanked me and said he couldn’t think of borrowing of me, and we drove -off. He was awfully cut up about the pendant, though he kept saying -it didn’t matter at all, only, as he put it, ‘You know how women are -about such things. They like a present at the time. If they’re going -to have a birthday, they want their gifts on the day. By the next day -they’ve forgotten all about it.’ But this time it couldn’t be helped, -he said, and it didn’t really matter. And then he’d remark again that -he was afraid his sister would be awfully disappointed, especially as -he’d made a point of her picking out the pendant and all. But when I -offered to lend him some money again, he seemed almost hurt and refused -quick as a flash. Finally he changed the subject, said it was a shame -to make me waste a morning in Paris over his private affairs, and asked -me where we should go sightseeing. It made me feel awfully small to -think how considerate and unselfish he was, and I pulled out all the -money I had and fairly forced it into his hands. He seemed pleased and -thanked me but said it wouldn’t be any use to him because it wasn’t -enough. The pendant cost fifty pounds, and he needed forty to make up -what he had. So I thought how we were to be together all the afternoon -at the Louvre with you girls and at the ball in the evening, and then -sleeping in adjoining rooms, and in the morning he could get his money -all right. So I stuffed my beggarly thirty dollars into my pocket, and -told him to tell the man to drive straight to the American Express, so -I could get two hundred dollars’ worth of checks cashed.” - -“And that time he didn’t object?” asked Betty. - -Billy shook his head. “Told me I was a good fellow, wrung my hand till -it ached, and assured me that it was only a day’s loan or he wouldn’t -think of taking it. Then we got the money, had a gay little lunch, and -stopped at our hotel on our way to meet you. I didn’t go in. Trevelyan -wanted to change his coat for a lighter one, because it had turned so -hot. He stopped for the mail to be distributed, so he was gone some -minutes, and we were ten minutes late in meeting you.” - -“And then you went to the wrong place,” said Babbie severely. - -“You can’t blame me for that,” returned Billy. “I asked right away if -there could be any mistake about the meeting-place and Trevelyan said -no. Later he explained that there was another principal entrance, -though he didn’t suppose any one would consider it the main one, and -he suggested that I wait while he went to look for you at the other -entrance and in some of the galleries. He’d been gone about five -minutes when I remembered my two hundred dollars, saw through his -little game, and started in hot pursuit.” - -“And he got away?” demanded Madeline eagerly. - -“Without trying. You see, he’d packed up his traps while he waited for -the mail to be distributed, and he had probably kept the cab waiting to -drive him back to our hotel whenever he managed to shake me off. It’s -almost across from the Louvre and I didn’t see a cab, so I ran. But -when I got there he was gone, bag and baggage--by a back way at that, -so the hotel has lost a little to keep me company. It was a perfectly -reliable hotel, you understand--one of the first few in Baedeker.” - -“And have you been to the police?” asked Babe excitedly. “They ought to -help you catch him.” - -Billy smiled delightedly. “Then you don’t see the joke, either. The -hotel people promised to inform the police, and I went to see the -American consul. He put me on to the fact that I haven’t a thing -against Trevelyan. I lent him the money voluntarily--pressed it upon -him, in fact. The police can’t help me. I’ve ‘done’ myself.” - -“You’re awfully cheerful about it,” said Madeline approvingly. - -“I wasn’t at first,” laughed Billy, “but it’s such a good story--or it -would be if we knew all the fine points, such as whether or not there -is a sister or a countess.” - -“But he telephoned the sister,” suggested Babe. - -“May have telephoned thin air,” said Billy. “It was in a booth, so no -one knows what he did.” - -“But the countess sent the invitation,” put in Betty. - -“And I saw Trevelyan mail the answer,” added Billy. “But he may have -redirected it on the sly to some of his confederates. He must have at -least one in Paris, I think, to manage getting the mail back and forth.” - -“Do you still think it’s all right about his having two names?” asked -Babbie. “Did you depend on what he told you about that, or did you -make other inquiries?” - -“About his having two names?” repeated Billy questioningly. - -“The two that Betty wrote John about,” Babbie reminded him. - -“I haven’t the least idea what you’re talking about,” Billy persisted. -When Betty had explained, he assured her that John never got her -letter. “But Trevelyan must have counted on your letting us know,” he -said. “Gee! but he had nerve to keep on when he knew he was suspected. -I wonder--do you suppose that had anything to do with his not finding -you sooner yesterday? My cab-man didn’t have the least trouble to-day, -I noticed.” - -“And he sat near you while you were here. I remember that,” contributed -Babe. “But how about the dance? What was his object in planning that?” - -Billy hesitated. “The consul gave me a good fatherly talk, and -he had a pretty gruesome suggestion about that ball. He says -Fontainebleau--that’s where the countess lives, you know--is on the -edge of a great forest, and that you could get a stranger out there -and drive him off somewhere and rob him without half trying.” He turned -to Babbie. “Do you remember our guying him about your money and your -ring? Well, I think that was undoubtedly his scheme. But when you -hung back and he knew that you had probably heard Miss Wales’s story, -why then he cooked up a substitute. My checks wouldn’t have been safe -plunder, so there was no use in holding me up.” - -Babbie shivered. “I guess on the edge of a real adventure is as near as -I want to be. Think of being driven into a forest and robbed!” - -Billy looked very solemn, too. “Please don’t think of it,” he advised -her. “I’d have given a lot more than two hundred dollars to keep you -out of a thing like that.” - -“Have you got your passage home?” asked Betty, so seriously that every -one burst out laughing. - -“I have,” Billy assured her, “all nicely paid for. And I shan’t send -home for more money, not if I have to pawn the beautiful garments that -I had made on Bond Street, expressly for the countess’s ball. How -Trevelyan must have enjoyed watching me order those clothes! Well, he -deserved to get some fun out of it. Sight-seeing with me probably bored -him awfully, if he wasn’t as new to London as he pretended to be, and -all his clever little contrivances must have kept him working overtime. -Lots of honest men earn two hundred a month without taking half the -trouble.” - -“I’m confirmed in my belief that he was French,” declared Madeline. -“He certainly must have plenty of friends in Paris. He probably was in -hiding in Australia while one of his bold, bad adventures was being -forgotten over here.” - -“Then he must have been there some little time,” said Billy, “for his -stories certainly had local color all right. But I don’t think I should -depend much on his advice if I were John Morton. John and he got quite -chummy over the prospects for sheep-raising out there. By the way, John -ought to be over here before long. Won’t it be fun springing all this -on him?” - -“The best of it is,” said Madeline, “that the more you think about -it the nicer it gets. It’s all so clever and finished--and--well, -typically adventurous, from the minute he inquired of you about that -London Club until he vanished down the passage at the Louvre this -afternoon. It’s so interesting to wonder what he thought and how he -felt as he played his cool little game.” - -“Only it wasn’t a game,” Babe objected. “It was business. Think of -making friends with people just so you can rob them afterward! I always -thought chewing gum was about the silliest kind of a business, but I’d -rather have my father in chewing gum than in adventures.” - -Mrs. Hildreth came into the garden just then and the girls pounced upon -her with their exciting story, making Billy stay to dinner to help them -tell it properly. At her plate Betty found a letter which had been sent -direct to the pension instead of to the express office. - -“I wonder who knows I’m here,” she said, tearing open the envelope, -which was addressed in a strange hand. - -“Probably an advertisement,” suggested Madeline. - -[Illustration: THE GIRLS POUNCED UPON HER] - -But it wasn’t. It was Betty’s letter to John Morton, with “not found” -written boldly across the address. - -Billy inspected it eagerly. “That’s not his writing, but it’s his work. -Nobody else could have sent it here. So he did scheme to keep us apart! -That was why he took us to the wrong station to see you off.” - -“And why he kept you out so late the night before,” put in Madeline. -“We might have tried to telephone you about the name then. But I don’t -see why he returned Betty’s letter. He might just as well have thrown -it away.” - -“Things you throw away leave tracks behind,” said Billy wisely. “But -more likely he did it for the joke--timing it to get here to-night and -all. Following all his moves is like going to a cobweb party. It will -take us weeks, and then we shall miss some of the best points.” - -As he was saying good-night Billy gave a sudden exclamation. “I’ve got -to go back to London to-morrow to meet the crew, and I’d forgotten all -about it. Well, I guess I’ve seen as much of some sides of Parisian -life as most fellows could in three days, even if I didn’t get further -than the front entrance of the Louvre.” - -That night Babbie Hildreth slept lightly and dreamed strange dreams. -About midnight she knocked the B’s knock on Babe’s door. - -“No, I’m not sick, and I haven’t been robbed,” she said, in answer to -Babe’s plaintive inquiries. “But there’s a ghost on my side of the -house, and all the rooms around me are empty, so you couldn’t expect me -to stay there all by myself.” - -“Ghosts are your specialty,” murmured Babe, sleepily. - -“Well, we’re not supposed to pursue our specialties alone,” objected -Babbie. “I thought you’d be interested. Honestly it’s the funniest -thing,” she went on earnestly. “Some one knocked on the gate, because -he was locked out, I suppose, softly at first and then louder and -louder. But now the gate has been opened, and still the person stands -and knocks and knocks. It’s a man, I think.” - -“Perhaps he’s drunk and doesn’t know enough to come in,” suggested -Babe. - -“No, he knocks as if he had a definite, sensible reason,” said Babbie -decisively. “Hark! He’s actually pounding now. I hope Mademoiselle will -turn him out in the morning, that is if he’s a boarder and not a ghost -trying to wake up the person that it has come back to haunt.” - -“Whatever he is, he’s stopped to rest,” said Babe. “If he doesn’t begin -again you’d be willing to go back to bed, wouldn’t you? Or I’ll go back -and you can stay here.” - -“Listen.” Babbie clutched Babe’s arm. “There’s a noise on the stairs.” - -There was, and presently it came nearer down the hallway to the door. -It was a queer noise like a stealthy step with a dull thump accenting -it sharply now and then. Presently it stopped, somewhere out in -Babbie’s hallway, there was the click of a key in a lock, and then the -steps began again, coming slowly back through the hall and down the -stairs. - -“Does sound ghostly,” admitted Babe, “and it doesn’t sound a bit drunk. -And it can’t be a boarder because it’s going out again.” - -“Well, as long as it’s gone, I guess I dare to go back,” said Babbie -presently. “You watch me down the hall, Babe.” - -“Stay here, if you’d rather,” Babe offered again, but Babbie insisted -that she wasn’t afraid and went off, her candle flickering in the -draughty passageway. The next thing Babe knew the sunshine was sifting -through the branches of the magnolia tree and her watch said half-past -eight o’clock. So, forgetting that it had been half an hour fast the -night before, she dressed in a tremendous hurry and was astonished when -she peeped out from behind her curtains as usual to see who was down, -to find only a solitary gentleman breakfasting in the farthest corner -of the garden. - -“Why it looks like--it is John Morton,” she said to herself. “Now what -in the world is he doing here, I should like to know?” And she sat -down on the edge of her bed in a fashion that seemed to say, “If any -one thinks I’m going down to breakfast now, he’s much mistaken.” But -the very next minute she jumped up again, surveyed herself anxiously -in the glass, and, without stopping to get Madeline and Betty, as the -first one to be ready always did, marched down-stairs and out into the -court. Her start of surprise when she came into sight of John would -have secured her a part in the senior play at Harding, but John was so -surprised himself that any bungler could have taken him in. - -“You here?” he gasped. - -“Yes,” said Babe, coolly. “Didn’t you know it?” - -“Of course not. Some friend of Dwight’s gave us the address. It’s very -near to the big library where he’s got to bone.” - -“I see,” said Babe. Then there was a long and dreadful pause. At last -Babe broke it. “I presume he won’t care to move. Don’t let’s act like -sillies. Let’s be perfectly nice and friendly, so no one will know how -you--how we feel. For instance, if I go off now into another corner of -the garden every one will want to laugh at us.” - -“Do sit down here by all means,” said John politely, springing to draw -up a chair for her. - -There was another pause. - -“I suppose we’ve got to talk,” said John doggedly at last. “How are -the--what do you call them?--oh, yes, the dominant interests? How are -they coming on?” - -“We had a ghost last night,” said Babe primly. “It was trying to haunt -some one in the house apparently. It banged and banged----” - -“Why that was me,” said John with an ungrammatical suddenness that -broke the ice. “You see Dwight and I got here about eight and after -we’d settled our traps we went for a walk. Dwight got sleepy and came -back, but I tramped pretty nearly all over Paris, I should say. And -when I got here at last, I happened to think that I didn’t know the way -to my room well enough to risk finding it alone. So I called up the -porter. He thought I only wanted the gate opened, and it seems he has -it fixed so he can do that without getting out of bed. But I pounded -and pounded until he decided I was crazy, and came to put me out. And I -finally made him understand the fix I was in.” - -“You made the queerest noise coming up-stairs,” said Babe. “It sounded -too ghostly for anything.” - -“The porter has a wooden leg,” explained John, “so he can’t go quietly. -He made all the noise that was made inside the house. I’m very sorry I -woke you all up and frightened you.” - -“Oh, we aren’t so nervous as all that,” Babe assured him gaily, and was -frightened to see how friendly her words sounded. “Babbie,” she called -hastily, as Babbie appeared in the doorway, “come and see the noisy -Parisian ghost and tell him about the ghostly disappearance of his dear -friend Mr. Trevelyan.” - -Under cover of the story, Babe disappeared. - -“You silly, silly thing,” she whispered, in the seclusion of her nun’s -cell, “you’re glad to see him when you’re not sure he’s glad to see -you. Don’t try to deny it, because it’s true. But don’t you dare to let -him know it. When he says he’s sorry he was so horrid you can decide -what to say, but not before. I hope you’ve got pride enough to be a -man-hater as long as he is a woman-hater.” - -Having relieved her mind to this extent, Babe went to find Betty and -told her about John. - -“I rely on you to stick by me,” she said. “The others will all try to -leave us alone together, and that’s just what I don’t want. It’s queer -how easy it is to tell you things, Betty. I suppose that’s one reason -why Mr. Morton calls you Miss B. A.” - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -THE PROGRESS OF ROMANCE - - -WHEN Babe and Betty joined the others, they found them still -talking about Mr. Trevelyan. - -“Do you think now that he’s an authority on sheep-raising in -Australia?” inquired Babe blandly of John. - -John flushed a little. “No, I don’t believe I care to use his letters -of introduction.” He produced a bulky packet. “His friends would -probably give me the same sort of send-off that he gave Billy. I -suppose Billy told you that I’d consulted him about chances out there,” -John added, looking inquiringly around the circle. - -“But you weren’t serious about going, were you?” demanded Madeline -incredulously. - -“I certainly was,” returned John in his stiffest manner, and Babe’s -little proud face hardened. He wasn’t sorry that he had been -disagreeable; he was just giving up Australia because Mr. Trevelyan -had proved unreliable. - -After breakfast Mr. Dwight suggested that they should all go and -inspect the Pantheon, which was so near by that the girls, thinking -they could go there “any time,” hadn’t yet been to see it. As they -started off across the court Mr. Dwight happened to engage Betty’s -attention, and Madeline and Babbie marched off arm in arm, leaving Babe -and John together. - -But--“Here, Babbie,” Babe called after her, “you’re forgetting to take -care of your property. Ghosts are your dominant interest, and John is a -ghost. Therefore you ought to look after him, Q. E. D.” - -“Don’t you want to change interests with me?” asked Babbie demurely. -“You’ve been going to get a new one all summer in place of your -inaccessible chimney-pots.” - -“Thank you,” said Babe coolly, “but I don’t want a second-hand -interest. If I change, it will be for something that nobody else has -tried. Come on, Madeline.” - -John accepted Babe’s prompt solution of their difficulties, and in -the rôle of “Babbie’s tame Parisian ghost”--it was Madeline’s name, -of course--coöperated with Babe and Betty to avoid embarrassing -tête-à-têtes. Madeline and Babbie on the other hand, objected -strenuously to Betty’s enrolling herself in Babe’s faction. - -“I suppose she’s told you all about it,” Babbie said dolefully, “and -made you promise to help her. She won’t tell me a thing, but I can see -for myself that in spite of her trying to appear so gay and lively, -she’s worried and nervous and growing thin. Just because you discovered -that match-making won’t work you needn’t try the other thing.” - -“I’m only keeping her good natured,” explained Betty laughingly. “She -told me a little, but she left out all the important points, just as -people in love always do. She doesn’t know what she wants, and John -doesn’t. Something will turn up before long, I hope, to help them -decide.” - -“Of course it will,” agreed Madeline easily, “and meanwhile all Paris -is before us. Where shall we go to-day?” - -“Let’s leave it to the man from Cook’s,” suggested Betty. - -“Victor Hugo’s house, then,” announced Madeline promptly. “John -particularly wants to go there.” - -But John had promised to meet a college friend that afternoon, and Mr. -Dwight was busy, so the four girls and Mrs. Hildreth went off alone. -When they got back John was in the garden with a formidable collection -of railway guides and Baedekers piled on a green table before him. - -“Have to be in Antwerp to-morrow at ten,” he explained impressively, -and handed Mrs. Hildreth a telegram. - -“If you can really speak Dutch and French decently,” it read, “meet me -Antwerp, hotel St. Antoine, ten Thursday morning. J. J. Morton.” - -“I can’t imagine what he wants of me,” John went on, trying to be -perfectly matter of fact, “and I’m dead sure that my Dutch and French -won’t suit him, but there’s nothing like trying, so I shall go. See -here, which one of you told the governor that I could speak Dutch and -French?” - -“I did,” Betty confessed, timidly. “I hope you don’t mind.” - -“Oh, not at all,” said John, who was evidently trying not to appear -obnoxiously elated. “The thing I don’t understand is why he believed -you. You must have an awful lot of influence with him to make him -think that I can do anything. Will you lend me your precious French -dictionary for the trip?” - -Betty promised and went off to find the book, while the other girls -said good-bye, and wished John a successful journey. The telegram, -it seemed, had come before he went out for the afternoon, and he had -looked up trains and packed, and was starting in a few minutes more for -the station. - -When Babe got up-stairs, Betty was waiting to waylay her. “I don’t see -how I was so stupid,” she said, “but my collar stuck into me and it -hurt so while I burrowed around in my trunk tray for my dictionary, -that I took it off. Would you mind carrying this to John? I’m afraid -he’s in a hurry.” - -Babe eyed her suspiciously. “I never knew you to be so absent-minded,” -she said. - -“If you don’t want to go back, I can ask Madeline.” Betty started -toward the door, but Babe reached out a hand for the little dictionary. - -“I can go as well as not,” she said, and hurried off. - -“Say good-bye to him for me,” Betty called after her, and after a -discreet interval went off to find Madeline and Babbie and tell them -what she had done. - -Meanwhile Babe had delivered the dictionary, with explanations, and -said good-bye again. - -“You’ll be back soon, of course?” she asked, and in spite of all her -efforts there was a little quiver of eagerness in her voice. - -“I can’t be sure.” John looked at her hard and held out his hand. -“I say, Babe, let’s shake and be friends--real friends, not friends -for show, as we have been lately. I was a goose about the Australian -business. Even if Trevelyan had been all right, it was a wildcat -scheme. I don’t know what my father wants of me, but I’m hoping -it’s help with a business deal of some kind. That will give me an -opportunity to show him that I’m not quite so no-account as he thinks, -and maybe he’ll give me a good chance next year, if he won’t this. If -I should make good with him, will you reconsider?” - -Babe put her small brown hand into John’s big one. “I’d--well, I’d -consider reconsidering, I think,” she said slowly. “Remember, I -don’t promise anything but that, and--come back as soon as you can. -Good-bye.” Babe dashed across the garden and up-stairs like a whirlwind. - -John was gone three days. The girls spent most of the time in hunting -a present for Bob. “Some queer old thing that looks as if it came from -Europe” sounded easy enough to find, and it was--too easy; so that each -girl had her own pet idea and couldn’t bear to give it up. Finally, -Madeline suggested drawing lots. - -“Each fix a piece of cake for Virginie. Put the four in a row, and the -one whose piece Virginie gobbles up first can have the say about the -present.” - -All but Babe were satisfied to save a bit of the cake they had for -luncheon. Babe, who evidently understood Virginie’s tastes, went out to -a bakery near by and brought back a beautiful little frosted cake with -a cherry on top. And Virginie made straight for the cherry. - -Mademoiselle happened to come through the garden just then, and -Babe, who was beginning to be as proud of her French as Betty had -been, rushed up to her triumphantly and announced, “Nous avons mangé -Virginie.” - -Mademoiselle looked horrified and amazed until Babe pointed out the -family pet and the row of cake crumbs. “Avec gateaux,” she added -pleasantly. - -Mademoiselle mildly suggested that they had “given Virginie to eat of -cake,” and Madeline asked Babe how Virginie tasted. - -“I don’t care,” said Babe sturdily, when she had seen her mistake. -“I eat; I feed. It’s exactly the same thing. I eat Virginie; I feed -Virginie. Well, that isn’t, is it? Anyhow I know how to feed a -turtle if I don’t know how to talk about it. Now come and buy Bob’s -candlesticks.” - -But while Madeline and Babbie were bargaining with the shop-keeper for -the pair of candlesticks that Babe had chosen, Betty, poking about -in a dark corner, discovered a queer thing that Madeline told her -was a Flemish lamp; and everybody liked it so much better than the -candlesticks that Babe renounced the privilege of choosing and joined -the unanimous movement in favor of the Flemish lamp. Then everybody -wanted one for herself, and the afternoon sped away in the pursuit, -for no antique store boasted many of the lamps. There was a great -difference in the gracefulness of the tall standards and the quaintness -of the small hanging lamps, and each girl insisted upon being exactly -suited before she made her choice. - -“A perfect nuisance to pack,” laughed Betty on the way home, “and -absolutely useless. I can just hear Will say it.” - -“Not half so bad to pack as the flossy hats you girls have been buying; -they are warranted not to break, and will make excellent substitutes -for hammers,” Madeline defended their purchases. “Let’s take them into -the garden and see how they look all together.” - -Arranged on two little tables, the five lamps looked so imposing that -Mrs. Hildreth had to be called down to inspect them and admire the -“points” of each, as its fond owner dilated upon them. - -In the midst of the “show,” as Babbie called it, John appeared. His -greetings were so subdued and formal that no one dared inquire about -his trip until Betty broke the ice by asking if any one had mistaken -him for a Dutchman again. - -“Not quite,” said John modestly. “I guess you are the only ones who -ever did that; but my Dutch was all right and so was my French. You -should have seen my father stare.” - -After that it was easy to see that, as Madeline put it, he was wearing -the air of the conquering hero, decently disguised. Mr. Morton had sent -boxes of hopje, which is a delicious kind of Dutch candy that can be -bought nowhere but at the Hague, to Betty and Babe, and they all sat in -the garden eating it while John told his story. - -“Dad says he’s felt all right ever since the day he disobeyed all his -doctor’s orders at once down in Saint Malo, so he’s kept on disobeying -them ever since. He had a big business deal on at Antwerp--buying -an interest in a steamship line was the principal part--and as he -wanted to buy straight from the men who owned the line he needed an -interpreter that he could trust. So he cabled home, but the man he -wanted was off on a fishing trip and missed the boat.” John chuckled. -“I’m afraid he’ll pay pretty high for those fish. Then, having implicit -confidence in Miss Wales’s judgment, he sent for me.” He looked at -Betty. “You’ve been ‘Miss B. A.,’ as dad calls you, to me this trip, -I can tell you. It’s been all my fault, I know, the way my father has -felt about me, and I don’t blame him for not believing that I’ve braced -up. Now that he does believe it, you can be sure I shan’t give him -the faintest excuse for changing his mind. He’s a brick, when he gets -started.” John stopped to laugh at his absurdly mixed metaphor. - -The girls drifted away with their precious Flemish lamps, and this time -Babe made no pretence of not wishing to be the last to go. - -“Well, I’ve made good,” said John when they two were alone, “and if my -father insists upon it I shall go back to college and do my best to -make good there, too. Will you wait for me, Babe?” - -Babe flushed and gasped. “I thought you’d talk about your trip awhile -first. I haven’t decided. It’s so much more serious somehow, now that -I’ve had time to think it over longer. Let’s just be friends for -awhile, and I guess I can decide before very long. Don’t ask me again -till I say you may.” - -It was now that Madeline’s pension developed a new advantage. The -garden was certainly an ideal one for promoting a romance. John was -always down early for breakfast. Mr. Dwight considerately came very -late. Betty and Madeline, when they were ready, peeped surreptitiously -out between the magnolia branches, and if John hadn’t come or was still -alone they went down, ate hastily, and found it absolutely necessary -to go up-stairs again at once. If Babe had joined him--of course Babe -never, never peeped nowadays--they loitered in Babbie’s room until -the two in the garden had had ample time for a leisurely tête-à-tête. -Before and after dinner the garden was the favorite loitering place, -and then again there were chances for judicious management. But the -days sped by, and still Babe hesitated. One afternoon she had an -inspiration. - -“Maxim for travelers: ‘When in doubt drink afternoon tea.’ I’m -certainly in doubt, and we haven’t had a real tea-drinking for ages.” - -She was dressing for dinner, so she slipped on a kimono and made a dash -through the hall to Madeline’s room. - -“I think we ought to have a tea-drinking,” she announced. “Can’t we, -to-morrow afternoon?” - -Madeline nodded. “It’s a queer coincidence that I’ve just heard of -the most fascinating tea place. Also I had decided to make you girls -give me a going-away party there to-morrow. I simply must be off for -Sorrento.” - -“Is it a real tea place?” Babe inquired anxiously. “I insist upon tea -this time--not lemonade or ices.” - -“Since when have you gotten so fond of tea?” asked Madeline curiously. -“In England you always fussed----” - -“We haven’t had it so much lately,” explained Babe, and departed in -haste to finish dressing. - -“And I never told her I was sorry she was going,” she reflected as she -brushed her hair. “Oh, dear, it’s dreadful to have something on your -mind!” - -Madeline refused to give her hostesses much idea of “the most -fascinating tea place.” - -“I’ve never been there,” she said, “but the woman who sits next me -at dinner said it was awfully jolly. It’s out at Robinson, a little -suburban place. There are cafés in the trees, and you climb up as high -as you like among the branches and enjoy the prospect and the tea.” - -“But mother could never climb up in a tree,” protested Babbie. - -“You don’t climb trees,” explained Madeline placidly. “You climb stairs -to little landings built among the branches, just like the ‘Swiss -Family Robinson’ house. That’s what gives the place its name.” - -The Robinson party, which as a matter of course included John and -Mr. Dwight, started out the next afternoon in high spirits. A short -train ride brought them to Robinson, where they found a feature that -Madeline’s informant had not mentioned--sleepy little donkeys waiting -to carry them up the hill to the tree-top cafés. To be sure Madeline -and Mr. Dwight, in their eagerness to secure the top story of the very -tallest trees for the party, abandoned their donkeys half-way up and -went ahead on foot, with the result that they discovered it to be a -very hot day, much more suitable for lemonade than for tea. - -“But we’re giving you a tea-drinking,” objected Babe, when they -were seated around the table on the top platform, with the green of -the trees to shelter them from the western sun and yet not hide the -wonderful view of Paris and the country between. “I shall have tea -anyway.” - -“Have it iced,” suggested John, but Babe shook her head. - -“Regular tea,” she insisted. - -“Then you can have lemonade to cool off on later,” put in Betty. “You -know somebody has got to have a second course, so we can have something -to pull up in the basket. The first time you order, the waiter comes -up; but the second time he puts the things in a basket, and we pull. I -speak to do the pulling.” - -“Why can’t we start this kind of tea-room in New York, Madeline?” asked -Babbie eagerly. “A three-story tea-room is even nicer than a two-story -tram. And the basket is a beautiful feature. People would just flock to -see it work.” She pulled it up herself by way of illustration. - -“Be sure to have strawberry tarts on the menu, and I’ll flock for one,” -said Mr. Dwight, helping himself to another of the tarts in question. - -“Things are more expensive in New York,” Madeline warned him. “You -won’t be able to afford ten tarts, even if you are ravenously hungry.” - -“You could call it the Peter Pan Tea-Rooms,” put in Betty. “It’s -exactly like the last scene in the play, except that there aren’t any -fairies.” - -“You can’t ever be sure of that, you know, Miss Wales,” Mr. Dwight took -her up. - -Babe listened absently to all the idle chatter, drinking her hot tea -conscientiously and thinking hard. And because she was serious and -silent John was also, trying to guess at her thoughts. - -“The best way to tell whether you want a thing is to think how you -would feel to have to get along without it all your life.” Babe came -out of her brown study to hear Madeline saying it. She gave a little -start, caught Betty’s eye fixed upon her as much as to say, “Listen to -that now,” and blushed furiously; then she looked at John and blushed -hotter still. - -“What in the world are you all talking about?” she demanded. “I was -thinking of something else.” - -“Babbie’s elegant new clothes,” explained Madeline coolly, “and my -philosophy of clothes, which is not to bother with them.” - -Babe jumped up. “I want to see the view from the story below this, -don’t you, John? The trees are cut away more down there.” - -John murmured something about being rather tired of sitting still and -followed her. - -“Chaperon’s cue is to descend to lower story,” laughed Mr. Dwight; but -Mrs. Hildreth decided that in this case the chaperon would better stay -where she was. - -The two were back in five minutes, enthusiastic over their view. - -“I’m ready for my lemonade now,” announced Babe gaily. - -“I’m going to have another glass, too,” added John. “You must all have -another. Babe and I want you to drink a toast.” - -Which is how Madeline’s going-away party was suddenly transformed into -Babe’s announcement party--not one bit fair, Madeline said, but amusing -enough to make up. Anyway Babe always declared that Madeline said what -she did on purpose and that Betty coughed to attract her attention to -it. - -“And I knew I didn’t want to do without John all my life,” she said, -“and making up your mind is such a bother that I wanted to have it all -over with. Whenever I’m in doubt again I shall drink afternoon tea.” - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -TELLING THE MAGNATE - - -IT wasn’t a real announcement party, Babe explained carefully. - -“Only a private view,” suggested Madeline, “which is not to be so much -as mentioned until Babe gives the word.” - -Meanwhile Babe, who had no serious doubts of the continued approval -of her family--she had basked in it unquestioned ever since she could -remember--wrote a long letter home and spent her last days in Paris in -the garden with John and Virginie. - -“You ought to be making a specialty of a trousseau,” Babbie told her -severely. “May be you’re not going to be married for a whole year, but -just the same there are lots of things you can get here much better -than at home.” - -But Babe refused to be diverted to shopping excursions. “I prefer -fiancés for my dominant interest,” she said. “They’re much less -wearing. Besides you’ve all given me such lovely engagement presents. -My trousseau will have a Parisian touch from them.” - -Mr. Jasper J. Morton was automobiling furiously through Germany. He -wired Babe to remind her of the boat-race and to invite her whole party -and John and Mr. Dwight to be his guests; but he gave no address, so -John finally tore up the long letter he had written, deciding to tell -his news in person when he and his father met in London. - -A day or two after the going-away party Madeline appeared at breakfast -in her traveling suit. - -“My trunk has gone,” she announced, “and my carry-all-and-more-too is -strapped as neatly as its bursting condition will permit. And the man -servant has gone to hunt me a cab. Tell you sooner? If I had, you’d -have persuaded me to stay a day longer. Don’t deny it, Betty Wales; I -see it in your eye.” - -“But you’ll be back in New York in time to start the tea-room?” -inquired Babbie anxiously. - -Madeline laughed. “If I don’t come, you may have all the ideas, Babbie -dear, and I promise not to open a rival establishment. Father is -thinking of a winter in Egypt, and I’ve ‘stayed put’ at Harding so long -that it sounds very tempting indeed. But so does a tea-room. I’ll write -you when I decide. Good-bye. No, I hate to have people come to the -train with me.” - -And Madeline was off on her long journey, blithely confident that -each new experience in life is amusing, if only you expect it to be -and waste no time in regretting such sad necessities as missing a -Harvard-Cambridge race that you would give the world, if you had it, to -see. - -The others crossed to London the day before the great event. Billy -Benson met them joyously at the station. - -“Sold my Bond Street clothes,” he announced, “for just what they cost -me, to a nice little chap on the Harvard subs. Told him he’d need ’em -for the celebrations after the race. Didn’t tell him that I was down to -my last little express check. How are you people going to see the race?” - -John explained, and Billy chuckled. “Bet I’ve seen your father. He was -down at the American Express Offices this morning trying to buy up the -boat they’ve advertised as especially for American spectators. Said -he’d pay whatever they liked if they’d refund the money on the tickets -they’d already sold and let him have the whole thing for his party. But -they wouldn’t do it--couldn’t, of course. He was in an awful rage.” - -John and the girls laughed at the description, and Mrs. Hildreth -despatched John in haste to his father’s hotel to explain that such -magnificent accommodations were quite unnecessary. Jasper J. Morton was -still peppery over his defeat. - -“Boats are all partly sold; desirable anchorages all taken. Nothing -to do but scramble aboard with the rest of the crowd. Maybe the girls -don’t mind it; I do. When I ask ladies to go to a boat-race, I want to -do the thing up properly.” - -John decided that the time was not propitious for making his -announcement, but led up to it gently by suggesting that dinner at one -of the big hotels on the Embankment would be a luxurious enough ending -to the afternoon’s pleasures to make the girls forget any slight -discomfort they had experienced earlier in the day. - -“That’s not a bad idea,” Mr. Morton admitted grudgingly. “Something in -the nature of a celebration of Harvard’s victory, I suppose you mean. -The London papers don’t seem to think we’ll win, but of course they’re -prejudiced. I hope those Harvard fellows haven’t come all this distance -just to show the English that Americans can’t row, eh?” - -“Benson thinks they have a chance,” John said, and repeated Billy’s -lively account of the crew’s practice records. “But if we don’t win,” -he added tentatively, “we can celebrate something else.” - -Jasper J. Morton sniffed scornfully. “The Harvard spirit and a good -race and all that? No sir, a defeat is a defeat. If we lose, there’ll -be nothing whatever to celebrate. Don’t let me hear you talking any -nonsense of that sort. A man who means to succeed in business mustn’t -get himself muddled about success and failure. Be a good loser if you -have to; but don’t you ever boast about it, or celebrate it.” - -So John’s mild effort to introduce the subject of his engagement -proved futile, and he decided to wait till morning. But morning found -Mr. Morton spinning out to Windsor in his car, because some one at -his hotel had told him that it would be madness to go back to America -without seeing the finest royal residence in England. - -“And when I got there this wasn’t a day when it’s open to the public,” -he explained to Mrs. Hildreth on the wharf, with a stoicism born of -despair. “Well, if I live till to-morrow, I shall be on my way to a -country where I’m glad to say that sightseeing isn’t the main business -of life. Where’s your crimson streamer, Miss B. A.? You promised me a -bow, didn’t you?” He turned to Babe, who blushed so red, as she pinned -on the crimson rosette, that if he hadn’t been watching so impatiently -for the boat, he would have guessed her happy secret and saved John an -anxious afternoon. - -“For if we lose,” John confided solemnly to Babe, “my father will -be in a horrible temper this evening. And if I wait and tell him on -shipboard, he won’t like my doing that. And if he’s huffy about it to -begin with, he’ll never really like it.” - -Betty was standing apart from the others, talking to Mr. Morton, who -forgot to look at his watch and mutter that they should be late for -the race after all their trouble, as he watched her bright face and -listened to the story she was telling. - -“Wish she’d break the news to him,” said John, gloomily. - -“I do, too. I’ll ask her,” volunteered Babe; and as their boat touched -the wharf just then, and the rush for good places tossed them together, -she did. - -But Betty only laughed at her. “Babe, dear, you’re absurd. Run right up -to him, the two of you, and have it over. He’ll be awfully pleased. But -there’d be no sense at all in my telling him.” - -“Yes, there would be, too,” protested John, who had come up behind -them. “I’m sorry for you, Miss Wales, but it’s your destiny. You -shouldn’t have such a magic influence on my father’s feelings if you -don’t want to exert it. Having benevolent adventures for your special -line, you’ve got to live up to the responsibilities involved.” - -“But I didn’t choose that for my specialty,” Betty persisted. “The -girls just gave it to me.” - -“It’s just like a ‘Merry Heart’ election,” declared Babe solemnly. “If -Harvard loses this race, you are elected to tell. There’s no getting -out of an election, you know.” - -Babe wriggled in between two portly Englishmen, pounced upon a -desirable group of chairs, sat down in one, and smoothed out her huge -crimson bow with the air of happy irresponsibility that had won her her -sobriquet at Harding. - -With Mr. Morton between her and Babe, and John at the other end of the -group, there was nothing for Betty to do but wait patiently for another -chance to remonstrate with “those silly children.” For she quite agreed -with them that it would be very foolish indeed to delay telling Mr. -Morton any longer. He would naturally feel hurt to think that John had -let his friends and Babe’s into the secret, but had kept his father -outside the charmed circle of intimates. It would put them back upon -the old footing of distrust and misunderstanding. - -It seemed as if everybody in London was in a boat on the river that -afternoon, or hanging over one of the bridges, or waving energetically -from one of the banks. All along the course these were black with -people, and beside them, crowded boats fairly jostled one another at -anchor. “The Siren” steamed up almost to the finish line before she -came to her allotted station, and John explained, on Billy Benson’s -authority, that even if they couldn’t see the actual finish, they could -be practically certain that whoever had the lead here would win the -race. - -“It’s simply got to be Harvard,” said Babbie vigorously, and then -suddenly noticing that outside of their own party everybody on board -was wearing the English colors, she laughed. “I suppose we ought to be -willing to be disappointed, because there aren’t so many of us--only a -few hundreds in all these millions of English people.” - -“If the Harvard crew has come all this way only to lose,” began Mr. -Morton testily, and then looked at Betty and laughed. “That’s just like -me, isn’t it, Miss B. A.? Always looking on the dark side of things, -eh? Always ranting about things going wrong?” - -Betty laughed and her eyes danced mischievously as she looked from Babe -to John. “Never mind the race,” she began impulsively. If she told, she -certainly had a right to choose her own time. “We’ve got something to -tell you that will make you forget there is a race. Whether or not the -Harvard crew wins, the Harvard man you are most interested in has won -the biggest kind of a race--no, not a race exactly,”--Betty stumbled -over her metaphors,--“but, well, the thing he wanted.” - -“The Harvard man I’m most interested in,” repeated Mr. Morton blankly. -“That’s John. What’s he won?” - -“This is an awfully public place,” Betty murmured. “Lean over and I’ll -whisper it.” - -There was a breathless moment while Jasper J. Morton blinked hard, then -looked at John for confirmation of the news, and having received a -friendly little nod in answer, turned to Babe with a smile on his grim -face. - -“Well, I can certainly congratulate John,” he said, “and from the -reports I’ve had lately I can congratulate myself on John’s having got -hold of just the right person to manage him and keep him up to the -mark, so if you’re satisfied I guess it’s all right. And I hope you’ll -never regret it.” - -“I shan’t,” said Babe blithely. - -“And you don’t mind waiting a whole year?” - -Babe shook her head smilingly. “It takes a long while to get ready to -be married, you know.” - -“Because,” Mr. Morton went on, “there’s a very good place in my -business waiting for a young man that knows how to talk ten different -languages, more or less. If he wants it this September, he can have it. -If he isn’t ready then, why I guess we’ll have to keep the place for -him. Fellows that can talk ten languages don’t grow on every bush.” - -John and Babbie had moved their chairs so that the party now sat in a -close, confidential circle of its own. - -“Thanks awfully, father,” John began, “but we’ve talked it over, Babe -and I, and we’ve decided that I ought to go back. If I leave college -now, I’ve been flunked out. I’d rather not have that kind of record -behind me.” - -Jasper J. Morton nodded. “That would be my idea, but I’d leave almost -any kind of record behind me, I guess, sooner than disappoint this -young lady.” - -Far down the river there rose the faint sound of cheering. - -“They’re coming!” cried an excitable English gentleman with a white -umbrella. He lowered the umbrella and poked Mr. Morton’s shoulder with -it vigorously. “You’d better stand on your chairs. It’s the only way to -see.” - -Nearer and nearer came the roar of applause--a great wave of sound that -caught Betty and tossed her up on her chair and fairly took her breath -away as she saw one--two black specks come into sight around a curve -and dash forward, until, before she knew it, they were alongside. - -But just before that something had happened in the second boat--the -American boat, alas! The third man had caught a crab. - -“Hi! Hi! They’re down and out now,” shouted the excitable Englishman. - -“It’s Benson,” cried John. - -“He’s all crumpled up in a heap,” cried Babe in anguished tones. “Oh, -he mustn’t give out now!” - -[Illustration: SOMETHING HAD HAPPENED IN THE SECOND BOAT] - -Babbie Hildreth caught at the Englishman’s white umbrella for -support--it happened to be the nearest thing she could reach--and -leaning far forward waved her crimson streamer wildly. - -“Billy! Billy Benson! Row for Harvard!” she cried in a shrill, strained -voice. - -“Benson! Harvard!” John and Mr. Dwight took up her cry. - -The little Harvard coxswain who was pouring water on Billy’s white face -turned his head at the cry, and Billy raised his inquiringly and then -calmly slipped back into his place and caught his oar. - -“Go it, fellows!” he panted, and the crew took up its stroke. - -The whole thing had taken scarcely an instant, but the English boat was -three lengths ahead. - -“Go it, Harvard!” cried the party on “The Siren.” - -And how they went! Nothing like that spurt was ever known on the Thames -before or since. The English were bound to win, but the crowd on the -banks and in the boats forgot that as they cheered the plucky Harvard -crew, whose superhuman effort was bringing their boat in barely a -length behind the Cambridge craft. - -As they passed the finish line Billy’s oar dropped from his limp hand -and he fainted quietly into the bottom of the boat. - -“Tell ’em I ended game,” he murmured to the little coxswain as he went -off, and the coxswain himself came round in the evening to deliver the -message and to assure Miss Babbie Hildreth that she had saved the honor -of the college and that Billy would be on hand next day to thank her in -person for keeping him from the “fluke” that every athlete dreads. - -“Wasn’t it lucky we came?” said Betty Wales, climbing carefully down -from her chair, while “The Siren” whistled madly and the crowd cheered -for Cambridge’s victory, with a shout so deafening that it made all the -noise which had come before seem like child’s play. - -“Why couldn’t they have begun to pull a little sooner?” demanded Jasper -J. Morton grimly. But the next minute he had caught the Englishman’s -hand and was shaking it cordially. “Glad you’ve won, I’m sure,” he -declared. “You ought to win on your own river. I’m glad our fellows -gave yours a good race.” - -Then he turned to John. “Let’s cheer for Cambridge,--a real American -tiger.” - -So John jumped on his chair again and led the cheer, and the English -passengers responded for Harvard. - -“There, Miss B. A.,” Mr. Morton turned to Betty, “is that your idea of -looking on the bright side of things? All the same, John, I’m disgusted -with that crew. Don’t tell your friend Benson, because he’s probably -upset enough as it is, but I’m sure I can’t see what those boys came -over here for if they couldn’t win their race.” - -“If they hadn’t come they couldn’t possibly have won it,” Babe reminded -him gravely, whereupon Mr. Morton glared at her and then, remembering -that the race was not the main feature of the day after all, laughed -good naturedly and told such comical stories of his motoring -experiences in Germany and Holland that the defeated Americans were -quite the merriest party on board during “The Siren’s” homeward trip. - -The dinner, which was a celebration in spite of the race, was served on -a little balcony overlooking the river, gay with lights and noisy with -belated merrymakers. Then Mr. Morton announced that he had a box at one -of the theatres, where moving pictures of the afternoon’s race were to -be the feature of the program. - -“Well, it was a good race,” he admitted, after he had seen the -pictures. “They got ahead several times and they rowed well even when -they had to take the other crew’s water, and that last spurt was all -right, only it came too late. I hope Benson understands that we aren’t -at all ashamed of our crew, John. You might mention it when you see -him.” - -It is to be feared that Billy cared very little for Jasper J. Morton’s -opinion of him. He had come out of his faint in a state of unwonted and -pathetic melancholy, only to find himself, to his amazement and almost -to his disgust, the hero of the occasion. For awhile he argued manfully -against such an idiotic idea, but finally he submitted to the popular -notion that his “crab” had made no difference in the final result and -that it had actually proved an advantage because it had inspired that -wonderful spurt that was the talk of all London and probably of all New -York. And since Babbie Hildreth was responsible for this turn of events -(and for some other reasons) Billy resolved to cast enforced economy -and doctor’s orders to the winds and beg or borrow enough money to give -her “the time of her life” during his last day in London. - -As for Betty Wales, her eyes sparkled with happy excitement as she went -to bed that night. A regular trip abroad would have been fun enough, -but a trip with Madeline to hunt up the queer things, Babe to furnish -a romance, and Mr. Morton to play the good angel and then pretend -it was all her doing--so that Dick Blake and now Babe and John had -insisted upon thanking her extravagantly--that was a trip to make you -hold your breath and wonder how you happened to be such a lucky, lucky -girl. Betty’s last few letters from home had been rather short and -unsatisfactory. - -“I’m afraid I ought to have kept house for mother this summer and let -her rest,” she reflected. “And perhaps father couldn’t easily afford -to let me come. But I haven’t spent nearly all the money he gave me, -and I’ll make mother take the grandest rest she ever had as soon as I -get home. And I can’t help being glad I’m here.” - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -HOME AGAIN - - -THREE busy days in London, and it was all over but the voyage -home. Billy and the crew and John and Mr. Morton had left by different -routes the evening after the race, so only Mr. Dwight was on hand to -wave the girls off at their boat-train. They were all tired from trying -to see too much and shop too hard just at the last, and Babe was of -course forlorn with only a long steamer letter to console her for -John’s absence. So nobody minded lying about on deck for the first day -or two, and after that a real storm added a sad chapter to the girls’ -seagoing experiences, keeping all but the dauntless Babbie close in -their berths for the rest of the voyage. - -On the last morning Babbie and Marie got all their charges upon deck, -where they lay, rather pale and listless from their long confinement, -enjoying the air and the sunshine. - -“Mummie dear,” began Babbie gaily, “do you know what I think? I think -that, if you want to keep your reputation as a chaperon, you’d better -spruce up your young charges before you return them to their adoring -families.” - -Mrs. Hildreth smiled faintly. “I have a chance, haven’t I, since -Babe’s mother and Betty’s father have both had to give up meeting -the boat, and John and his father are in Boston. How shall I do it, -daughter? What is the most effective method of sprucing up storm-tossed -collegians?” - -“Send them to Harding to recuperate for a day or two,” answered Babbie -with suspicious promptness. “The freshman rains will be just over and -Mary’s house will be settled, and it will be simply scrumptious seeing -her and Georgia Ames and everybody, won’t it, girls?” - -“Rather,” agreed Babe. “We could wire Roberta to meet us there, and -give her her gargoyle and Mary her Flemish lamp. That would be a great -saving of expressage.” - -“And we could display Babe, the tamed and affianced man-hater,” laughed -Betty. “Only--I’m in a dreadful hurry to get home.” - -“What’s a day?” demanded Babbie. “We can run up this afternoon. Bob’s -going to be at the boat, and we’ll drag her along as a beautiful -impromptu feature. Honestly, I don’t think you girls ought to start on -a long journey west without getting rested a little; it would make you -horribly land-sick. Wouldn’t it, mother?” - -“It might,” admitted Mrs. Hildreth, smilingly. “But seriously, girls, -I meant to treat you all to a side-trip to one of Babbie’s adored -villages, and we stayed on in Paris so long that I lost my opportunity. -So if you’d like to substitute Harding, I want you all to go as -Babbie’s guests.” - -“I was just going to say that I hadn’t any money,” Babe explained -smilingly. “I shall have just exactly a quarter left after I’ve paid my -steamer fees. But when the mail comes I shall have enough for my ticket -home, because I told father to send it. And I thought possibly that -knowing me he might put in something extra,” she added hopefully. - -“You could have borrowed of me,” Betty told her proudly. “I’m so -pleased to think that I can give father back my whole ‘emergency -fund,’ as he called the extra that he gave me to have in case I -needed it. Nan always spends her emergency fund; she says it attracts -emergencies instead of keeping them away. But I didn’t quite know -whether you could honestly call a trip to Harding an emergency or not.” - -“You don’t have to,” put in Babbie summarily. “You’re to call it an -adorable little out-of-the-way village. Now who packed the gargoyles -for Bob and Roberta, and where is Mary’s lamp? You two be thinking -while I find the purser and borrow a time-table of Harding trains.” - -So it happened that the three travelers, reinforced by Bob Parker and -Georgia Ames, dined sumptuously at Cuyler’s and invaded the Hinsdale -mansion in time to catch Mary, enveloped in a big gingham apron, -washing dishes. - -“The cook took French leave this afternoon,” she explained cheerfully, -when the noisy greetings were over, “and we couldn’t have much of -anything for dinner because she took my cook-book with her, the wretch! -I’ve sent my husband off to buy another, so I can find out about -boiling the eggs for breakfast. You wipe, Betty; and Bob, you and Babe -go down cellar and find some drift-wood for the library fire. It’s -piled up near the furnace. Georgia, you can be putting away the dishes.” - -“The same old Mary!” laughed Bob. “Does your husband enjoy being -ordered around?” - -“Of course,” said Mary sweetly. “He considers it a privilege just as -you always did, Bob. Be sure you bring up plenty of wood.” - -Five minutes later Mary divested herself of her apron, unpinned her -train, and explaining sorrowfully that if she sat on the floor it -always attracted faculty callers, established herself in a carved oak -chair and ordered her guests to “fire away.” - -“Well, to begin with, Babe’s engaged,” announced Bob. - -“Oh, you mean thing!” cried Babe. “I wanted to tell that myself.” - -“No, you ought to have let Betty,” declared Babbie with decision, “as -her reward for telling Mr. Morton, you know.” - -“All right,” agreed Babe. “You tell the rest, Betty.” - -“Somebody tell it quick,” begged Mary plaintively. “I’m dying of -curiosity.” - -So Betty “told quick,” and Bob aroused Babe’s wrath by reminding her -how it had all been prophesied just after Mary’s wedding. - -“As if that had anything to do with it,” Babe sniffed. “Besides, we’re -not going to be married for a year. You may all be married before -that--Helen Chase Adams may be.” - -Then Mary suddenly discovered that the girls had some trunks with them, -and she insisted upon seeing their foreign trophies immediately. So Bob -pulled the drift-wood fire to pieces and the other girls locked doors -and hunted Mary’s wraps, while Mary scribbled a note of explanation to -her husband. - -“I’ve said we’d be back here for supper,” she told them. “Roberta ought -to come at nine-thirty and she’s sure to be hungry for gingersnaps.” - -On the way they met and annexed Lucile Merrifield and Polly Eastman, -who invited them to sit with the seniors in chapel next morning, -offered them their choice between dinner at Cuyler’s or the Belden, -whose matron, they declared, would be “pleased as punch” to have such -distinguished guests, and reproached Mary hotly for not being willing -to conspire against the ten o’clock rule by inviting them to join her -supper party. - -“And the moral of that,” said Mary sadly, “is that only sedate persons -with no wicked little friends in college ought to marry Harding -professors. I hope you’ll remember that before it’s too late, children, -and not fall in love with one. And I hereby invite Lucile, Polly and -Georgia to dinner the very first night I have a cook.” - -It was great fun going through the trunks, but it took a long -time, because Mary was constantly being reminded of desert island -experiences, which in turn suggested fresh-air child anecdotes to Bob, -and they got back to Europe again only to be switched off on to Harding -news by Lucile or Georgia. But by running most of the way they managed -to meet Roberta’s train,--which is Harding style, because one never has -time there to waste on an early start. - -And after supper, which was also Harding style, the stay-at-homes -promised to be quiet and give the travelers a chance to tell their -adventures, and Dr. Hinsdale considerately retired to his study so that -the talk also might be strictly Harding style. - -When she had listened breathlessly to the details of the “real -adventure,” and to snatches of all the others, Mary smiled her “beamish -smile” around the circle. “Well,” she said, “you’ve all lived up to -your Harding reputations, as far as I can see--Babbie the Butterfly, -Madeline the Bohemian, Betty a Benevolent Adventurer.” - -“And the moral of that is,” put in Babbie quickly, “what you are at -home, that you will be abroad.” - -“Unless you drop all your individuality and become a Tourist, with a -capital T,” added Roberta. - -“Or change your spots and turn from a man-hater into a fiancée,” -suggested Bob. - -“That’s not changing your spots,” declared Mary wisely. “It’s just -making up your mind, isn’t it, Babe?” - -“How in the world did you know that, Mary Brooks?” demanded Babe in -such awe-struck tones that her friends shrieked with laughter, and Dr. -Hinsdale came out from his study to ask about the joke. - -The girls had intended to leave early the next afternoon, but when -Georgia Ames appeared, hovering in the Belden House hall, before dinner -was over, and announced that she was giving a gargoyle party for them -that evening, why of course there was nothing to do but insist that -the gargoyle party should be a “small and early,” and rush to the -station to countermand orders for carriages, and find out about making -connections with sleepers at the junction. - -“For we’re not so young as we were once,” said Roberta, hugging Betty. -“We don’t have to be met at Harding by the registrar, and we may travel -at night if we like, as long as two go one way and three the other.” - -The gargoyle party was as mysterious as Mary Brooks’s historic -hair-raising had been. Mary almost wept when Georgia asked her, and she -was obliged to decline because of a previous dinner engagement--not to -mention the dignity of her position. She solaced herself by making an -elaborate costume for Eugenia Ford, a pretty little freshman who, when -Georgia asked her to the party, thanked her gravely and explained that -if gargoyles had anything to do with gargles she wouldn’t come, because -she never could manage to do it--her throat must be queer. Most of the -other guests professed hapless ignorance of what a gargoyle might be, -but Georgia referred them easily to Bob’s cherished imp, which she -had borrowed for the occasion, together with some post-cards of other -grotesque figures. - -“Just run in any time this afternoon, and look them over,” she urged, -“and come in costume to-night, if you can. If not, it doesn’t matter. -Mrs. Hinsdale is going to offer a prize for the best one, though.” - -So the chosen few cast English Lit. papers and a possible--nay, -probable--written review in Psych. to the winds, journeyed down-town -to buy masks and draperies, and preëmpted all the desirable perches in -Georgia’s room, marking them with big “Engaged” signs, which came loose -when the wind blew in next time the door was opened, and gave the room -a disconcerting air of having been snowed under, when Georgia got back -to it just before tea. - -“But we had to do it,” Eugenia Ford explained, as she helped Georgia -put things to rights for the evening, “because the whole point of a -gargoyle is that it stands somewhere. Lucile Merrifield said so. And -the way you put on your costume makes a difference about where you are -to sit. No, the other way around.” - -“Conversely, you mean, my child,” amended Georgia, pleasantly, putting -Mary’s five-pound box of Huyler’s on the chiffonier. - -“But that’s got to be cleared off,” objected Eugenia. “That’s Miss Bob -Parker’s place. We all wanted it, but she got it tagged first. Belden -House Annie promised her a step-ladder to climb up by, but she said a -chair would do.” - -Georgia sighed and dumped the ornaments of the dresser top, cover and -all, into her upper drawer. “A gargoyle party is a thing that grows on -your hands,” she said sadly. “Let’s go and eat. If there’s anything -else to clear off, we’ll do it later.” - -When the gargoyle party opened it was certain that, whether or not it -had grown on Georgia’s hands, it was every bit her room could hold. -Betty and Babbie, who had been too busy enjoying Harding to bother -about costumes, were the only guests who were not wearing some sort of -fantastic disguise. Bob had bought a box of paints and made her own -mask, modeling it and her drapery of brown denim after the imp that -the “B. A.’s Abroad” had given her. Eugenia Ford was a gryphon,--or at -least Mary Brooks said so,--with the most beautiful pair of wings that -had ever appeared at a Harding party. Polly Eastman was the elephant -that sits on the tower of Notre Dame. Georgia had planned to be the -other half of the elephant, in accordance with Harding usage in the -matter of elephants and other four-footed creatures. But at the last -minute she discovered that the Notre Dame elephant wasn’t four-footed. - -“Gargoyles never are,” said Lucile wisely--it was she who had pointed -out the mistake. “But never mind, Georgia. You can be one of my two -heads. I was going to be a two-headed beast if I could. Only Vesta -White changed her mind afterward and wanted to be an eagle.” - -There were other gargoyles, as impossible to classify as the real ones, -and they squatted in rows on Georgia’s bed and her big window-box, -popped up mysteriously from behind her desk, or lounged in strange -attitudes in her easy chairs. Bob Parker actually did get up on the -chiffonier, off the edge of which she hung in such realistic gargoyle -style that the judges, Babbie and Betty, unhesitatingly awarded her the -prize. - -“Not a bit fair,” objected young Eugenia, flapping her beautiful -gryphon’s wings disconsolately. “We should all have looked a lot -grander on chiffoniers.” - -“But you weren’t all clever enough to grab the one there was,” put in -Georgia pacifically. - -“Having a gargoyle of your own makes you notice the attitudes more,” -declared Bob proudly. “Never mind, Miss Ford. The prize is candy, -and we’ll pass it around while we wait for Georgia’s refreshments to -materialize.” - -“You haven’t forgotten your Harding manners, Bob,” said Betty severely. - -“No, you don’t any of you act a bit like alums,” declared a tall -junior, taking off her mask to breathe. - -“You lovely thing!” cried Bob, scrambling down from the chiffonier to -give the appreciative junior first choice of the prize candy. - -And then the gargoyles had a dance and a parade, and delicious “eats,” -on which Georgia had rashly spent all that was left of her month’s -allowance. And after that, when the five 19--’s were having the very -best time of all, just sitting around talking and realizing what a -dear, dear place Harding was, it was time to pull Bob out of her -beloved costume and rush for trains. - -Later in the evening the five classmates sat in the station at the -junction, Babe and Betty waiting to go west, Bob, Babbie and Roberta -bound for New York. - -Babbie looked critically at Babe and Betty. “I shall tell mother that -it worked,” she said. “You went to bed at three, and got up at seven -this morning to go canoeing. You’ve eaten four meals to-day and as many -ices. You’ve been horseback and trolley-riding. You’ve made dozens of -calls. It’s now ten p. m., and you’re fresh as the daisies in Oban. -How’s that for the Harding cure?” - -“Don’t you feel exactly as if it was some June?” demanded Bob. “Not -last June, but a regular June, you know, and we were all just going -home for the summer.” - -“Exactly,” agreed everybody, and then a sleepy silence settled upon the -group. - -“What were those things we had in the ‘Rise of the Drama’ course?” -asked Betty Wales suddenly. “Not intervals, but something like that.” - -“You mean Interludes, don’t you?” asked Roberta. “They came right after -the Moralities.” - -Betty nodded. “That’s what this summer has been--an Interlude.” - -“With Babe for the fascinating heroine,” put in Babbie. - -“Yes,” agreed Betty hastily. “And when I get home to-morrow the real -business of life is going to begin.” - -“Act I, Scene I, Life of Betty Wales, B. A.,” said Roberta. “Doesn’t -that sound serious? But it won’t be. You’ll play tennis with Nan, and -go to dances with your brother and other people’s brothers, and amuse -that darling little sister of yours, and be nice to everybody who needs -it, just as you always have, except that you won’t be home on a snippy -little vacation.” - -“Oh, I hope so,” said Betty, laughing at Roberta’s choice of details. -“But then I want to do something that counts, too.” - -“You’re always doing things that count,” Babe declared, giving her a -loving little squeeze. - -“That was just fun,” Betty reminded her for the hundredth time at least. - -“But if fun counts, it counts,” declared Roberta. “Just ask Madeline -Ayres if it doesn’t. If you can make fun out of hard work, then, -according to Madeline, you really know how to live.” - -“But we’re not the working contingent,” objected Babbie. “K. and Rachel -and Helen are the workers.” - -“They are!” breathed Bob indignantly. “Just try taking care of certain -fresh-air youngsters for two weeks.” - -“Or typewriting most particular briefs for your most particular -father, who always wants things in a terrific hurry,” added Roberta. - -Betty considered. “I’ve helped in little ways of course, but I never -did any one big thing. I’m going to now, though.” - -“Here’s to a winter of hard work!” cried Babe. “I shall have to sew, -and I hate it.” - -“But you must make fun out of it all the same,” Betty told her, with -the flash of gay courage in her eyes that had won over Mr. Morton. “I -shall, no matter what happens, and whatever we do, think of the fun -we’ll have talking it over when we all get together again. Oh, is that -our train, Babe?” And with her curls flying and her eyes dancing with -eagerness Betty Wales turned merrily from her happy summer’s Interlude -to “the real business of life.” - - - THE END - - - - -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: - ---Minor corrections (addition or deletion) of double quote marks have - been made on pages 188, 196, 230 and 317, to conform to accepted - usage. - ---Splended, on page 153, has been changed to splendid. - ---Cooperation, on page 218, has been changed to coöperation, to - conform to other occurrences in this e-book. - ---On page 270, Louxembourg has been changed to Luxembourg. - ---All other hyphenation and variant and archaic spellings have been - retained as typeset. - ---Illustrations have been moved to avoid interrupting paragraphs. - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BETTY WALES, B. 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A., by Margaret Warde</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Betty Wales, B. A.</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em;'>A story for girls</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Margaret Warde</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Illustrator: Eva M. Nagel</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: June 4, 2022 [eBook #68240]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: D A Alexander and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by University of California libraries)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BETTY WALES, B. A. ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter hide" style="width: 35%"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Cover" /> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<a id="i_frontispiece"><img src="images/i_frontispiece.jpg" width="400" alt="“NOW COME AND LABEL HER DRESSES”" -title="" /></a></div></div> - -<p class="caption">“NOW COME AND LABEL HER DRESSES”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<a id="i_title"><img src="images/i_title.jpg" width="400" alt="Title Page" -title="" /></a></div></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<h1>BETTY WALES, B. A.</h1> - -<p class="ph2 center no-indent"><i>A STORY FOR GIRLS</i></p> - -<p class="ph3"><i>BY</i> MARGARET<br /> -WARDE</p> - -<p class="p6b center no-indent"><i>Author of</i> -“Betty Wales, Freshman”<br /> -“Betty Wales, Sophomore”<br /> -“Betty Wales, Junior”<br /> -“Betty Wales, Senior”</p> - -<p class="center no-indent"><i>Illustrated by</i></p> - -<p class="ph3">EVA M. NAGEL</p> - -<p class="ph3 p6"><i>The Penn Publishing Company</i><br /> -PHILADELPHIA MCMVIII</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center no-indent">COPYRIGHT<br /> -1908 BY<br /> -THE PENN<br /> -PUBLISHING<br /> -COMPANY</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 125px"> -<img src="images/i_publogo.jpg" alt="Publisher’s Logo" /> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph2 nobreak">Introduction</p> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> I first knew Betty Wales she was a -freshman at Harding College, with a sedate, -comical roommate named Helen Chase Adams, -and a host of good friends, who stood by her -and one another all through the four years of -their college course. Mary Brooks—afterward -Mrs. Hinsdale—was a sophomore when -Betty entered college, but the others, the three -B’s, Roberta Lewis, Eleanor Watson, Rachel -Morrison, and Katherine Kittredge,—all belonged -to the “finest class” of 19—. So did -Madeline Ayres, though she was a year late in -joining it and felt obliged to make up for lost -time by being a particularly lively and loyal -Hardingite during her abbreviated course -there. Georgia Ames first appeared in 19—’s -junior year, and joined “The Merry Hearts,” -a society that Betty and her friends had organized. -But Georgia the first, as Madeline -used to call her, was only a figment of Madeline’s -imagination; it was a delightful coincidence when, -at the end of the year, a real -Georgia Ames appeared to step into the place -left vacant by her departed namesake, whose -short but strenuous career at Harding had -made them both famous.</p> - -<p>All these things and many others may be -found in the four books entitled respectively -“Betty Wales, Freshman,” “Betty Wales, -Sophomore,” “Betty Wales, Junior,” and -“Betty Wales, Senior.” This story was written -because some of Betty’s friends were not -satisfied to leave her at the end of her senior -year, but wished to hear what she did next. -If any of them still want to know what happened -to her after she came back from her trip -abroad, why, perhaps some day they may.</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Margaret Warde.</span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph2 nobreak">Contents</p> -</div> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="3" summary="CONTENTS"> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">I.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">An Impromptu Wedding—and Other<br /> -Impromptus</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">II.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Going-away Party—Harding<br /> -Style</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_27">27</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">III.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Off to Bonnie Scotland</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">IV.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Disillusionment Made Good</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">V.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Ruin and a Reunion</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_88">88</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">VI.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Scotch Mists</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_110">110</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">VII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Ghost of Dunstaffnage</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_129">129</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">VIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Betty Discovers Her Specialty</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_146">146</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">IX.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Buying a Duke</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_166">166</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">X.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Gay Ghosts of London</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_185">185</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">XI.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Betty Wales, Detective</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_204">204</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">XII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Jasper J. Morton Again</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_221">221</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">XIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A “Near-Adventure”</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_236">236</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">XIV.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Real Adventure</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_258">258</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">XV.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Noisy Parisian Ghost</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_273">273</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">XVI.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Progress of Romance</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_293">293</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">XVII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Telling the Magnate</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_311">311</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdtr">XVIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Home Again</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_329">329</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph2 nobreak">Illustrations</p> -</div> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="3" summary="ILLUSTRATIONS"> -<tr><td class="tdl"> </td> -<td class="tdbr"><span class="smaller">PAGE</span></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdl">“<span class="smcap">Now Come and Label Her Dresses</span>”</td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#i_frontispiece">Frontispiece</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdl">“<span class="smcap">It’s Only for Her I’m Carin’</span>”</td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#illo1">57</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdl">“<span class="smcap">Come Up, All of You</span>”</td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#illo2">104</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdl">“<span class="smcap">Four and Six!</span>”</td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#illo3">179</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdl">“<span class="smcap">I Have My Dictionary</span>”</td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#illo4">228</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Girls Pounced Upon Her</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#illo5">284</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Something Had Happened in the Second<br/> -  Boat</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#illo6">322</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<p class="smaller">Betty Wales, B. A.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</span></p> -<p class="ph1 nobreak">Betty Wales, B. A.</p> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I<br/> -<span class="smaller">AN IMPROMPTU WEDDING—AND OTHER IMPROMPTUS</span></h2> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Well</span>,” announced Betty Wales to the -family breakfast table, a week after 19—’s -commencement, “I’m beginning to feel -quite at home again. I’ve got my room -fixed——”</p> - -<p>“So it looks as much like a Harding room -as you can make it,” laughed Nan.</p> - -<p>“And you spend most of your time describing -the lost glories of Harding to anybody -who will listen,” added Will.</p> - -<p>“And the rest in writing long letters to the -other ‘Merry Hearts,’” put in mother slyly.</p> - -<p>“And she plans what I’ll do when I go to -college,” declared the Smallest Sister, who had -just had her first “teens birthday” and did<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</span> -not propose to be excluded from any family -council.</p> - -<p>“In short,” said Mr. Wales, appearing -solemnly from behind the morning paper, -“being ‘quite at home’ means wishing you -were back at college. Is that about the size -of it, Miss Betty Wales?”</p> - -<p>“Never, daddy,” cried Betty, leaning across -the corner of the table to give him a hug. -“I’m just as glad as I can be to be really and -truly at home again with my family. Of -course I shall miss the girls dreadfully, -but—oh, there the postman’s ring! I wonder -if he’s got anything for me.” And Betty -danced off to the door, answering Nan’s -and Will’s chorused “I told you so!” with a -laughing “I don’t care.” As Will had once -said, “The nicest thing about Betty is that -she can’t possibly be teased.”</p> - -<p>She was back in a minute with a handful -of letters for the family and four for herself.</p> - -<p>“All from late lamented Hardingites?” -inquired Will, who never wrote letters and -therefore seldom got any to read over his -morning coffee.</p> - -<p>Betty was tearing open the second envelope.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</span> -“That one isn’t. It’s just congratulations on -graduating, from Aunt Maria. But this is -from Madeline Ayres—why, how funny! It’s -dated Monday, in New York, and she was -going to sail last Saturday. Oh, dear, I don’t -understand at all! She says”—Betty frowned -despairingly over Madeline’s dainty, unreadable -hieroglyphics—“she says, ‘You have -heard all about it by this time, I suppose, -and isn’t it just—just——’ Oh, I wish -Madeline could write plainly.”</p> - -<p>“Too bad about these college graduates who -can neither read nor write,” said Will loftily. -“Try the next one. Perhaps they’ll explain -each other. Isn’t that scrawly one in the -blue envelope from Katherine Kittredge?”</p> - -<p>Betty nodded absently and tore open the -blue envelope. “Why how funny!” she -cried. “K. begins just the very same way. -‘Of course you’ve heard about it by this time, -and isn’t it the nicest ever? Are you and -Roberta going to wear your commencement -dresses too? Wasn’t it exciting the way they -caught Madeline on the wharf? By the way, -both the straps of my telescope broke on the -way home, and so I’ve bought a gorgeous<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span> -leather bag to carry on this trip, without waiting -for my first salary. Dick lent me the -money—you know he’s been working this -winter, so that I could stay at Harding, and -they never told me a word about it. We’re -planning for his college course now, father and -I, and I couldn’t have gone a step to the wedding -if dear old Mary hadn’t sent the ticket.’ -Gracious!” interpolated Betty excitedly, -“what is she talking about? Dick’s her -brother. That hasn’t anything to do with -the rest of the letter.” She glanced at -the last envelope. “Oh, this is from Mary -Brooks. I hope it won’t be puzzle number -three.”</p> - -<p>It wasn’t. Betty read it all through to -herself—four closely written pages—while the -Wales family, who had all become interested -by this time, watched her cheeks growing -pinker and her eyes brighter and bigger with -excitement, as she read. At the end she gave -a rapturous little sigh. “Oh, it’s just perfectly -lovely!” she declared.</p> - -<p>“What?” demanded Will.</p> - -<p>“Oh, everything,” answered Betty vaguely. -“Mary’s going to be married a week from to-day,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</span> -and we’re all coming,—every single one -of us. She caught Madeline before she went -abroad, and Eleanor before she left for Denver, -and she’s sent tickets to K. and Rachel and -Helen, instead of giving us all bridesmaids’ -presents. Oh, father dear, may I go?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Wales smiled into his daughter’s -flushed, happy face. “Betty,” he said, “your -enthusiasm is delightful. We shall miss it -while you are gone, but if Mary—whoever she -may be—is going to be married and can’t have -it done properly without you, why we shall -have to drift along for another week in our -accustomed state of staid and placid calm.”</p> - -<p>And Betty was so excited and so busy explaining -to her father which one of all the -girls he met at Harding was Mary Brooks, and -which one of the faculty was Dr. Hinsdale, -that she never noticed the letter from Babbie -Hildreth, in her father’s mail, or the dainty, -scented note, also postmarked Pelham Manor, -which her mother read and covertly passed to -Nan and then to Mr. Wales. And after breakfast -she flew straight up-stairs to answer her -letters, never dreaming that the long talk -father and mother and Nan were having on<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</span> -the piazza just underneath her windows was -all about her—Betty Wales—and the reasons -why she should or should not go on the -most glorious summer trip that a girl ever -took.</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ll see,” father called back from -the gate, as he hurried off to his office at last, -and Betty smiled to herself and wondered -whether Nan wanted a set of new books or the -Smallest Sister a bicycle. “Father always -says that when he thinks you’re getting pretty -extravagant in your tastes, but still he’s going -to let you have it all the same,” reflected Betty, -and started for the third time to reread -Mary’s letter.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“Dearest Betty,” it began, “I’ve left you -till the last to write to because you aren’t -going to the ends of the earth within the -week, and you don’t take ages to make -up your mind to things. In short, my -child, I know that this impromptu wedding -idea will appeal to you and that you will -keep your promise to help Roberta do the -bridesmaid act just as nicely as if I’d told you -six weeks ahead instead of one, and then sent -you a neatly engraved invitation at the proper<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</span> -hour and minute. We want to be married -next Thursday at three, because—oh, dear, -here comes George Garrison Hinsdale this -minute, and I promised to be ready to take -him to call on my minister. I’ll tell you why -we changed our minds when I see you. You -and Roberta and Laurie are to stay with me, -and the others are invited to Tilly Root’s, just -across the street. There’s a dinner Wednesday -night, before the rehearsal. Oh, about -clothes,—just wear your graduating dress or -anything else that you and Roberta agree -upon. Let me know your train. Oh, and -you won’t draw a present, because I wanted -all the girls to come, so I sent tickets to K. -and Rachel and Helen. I hope they won’t -feel hurt, and that you won’t mind not having -diamond sunbursts to remember the occasion -by. You see I couldn’t give diamond sunbursts -to some and railroad tickets to others. -It would have spoiled the scheme of decoration.</p> - -<p>“I wanted to tell you how I caught Madeline’s -coat-tails just as she was going on board -her boat, but George Garrison Hinsdale refuses -to wait another second. I foresee that I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</span> -have drawn a tyrannical husband. And the -moral of that is,—I’m too happy to care.</p> - -<p><span class="right1">“Yours ever,</span><br /> -<span class="smcap right2">“Mary</span>.”</p> -</div> - -<p>Before she wrote to Mary, Betty puzzled -out most of Madeline’s letter, which gave an -amusing account of her sudden change of -plans. “Eleanor came to see me off,” she -wrote, “and Dick Blake was there with his -arms full of flowers for me and his eyes fastened -tight to Eleanor, and all the good Bohemians -were saying fond farewells and sending -messages to daddy and telling when -they’d probably turn up in Sorrento, when up -dashed Mary Brooks and her professor. And -in five minutes Dick had sold my cabin to a -man he knew who had come down on the -chance of getting one and that boat had sailed -without me and my flowers and my steamer -trunk and my ‘carry-all-and-more-too’; and -my weeping chaperon that I had not yet -wasted time in hunting up is probably sending -wireless messages of condolence to my -family this minute. But Dr. Hinsdale cabled, -and then Dick took the whole crowd to a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</span> -roof-garden to cool off, and after that he and -I went down the Bowery giving away that -armful of roses to the smallest, raggedest children -we could find. So it was a very nice -party, and of course I can go to Italy any -time.<span class="smcap right3">Mad.</span>”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>And this is how it happened that just two -weeks after they had parted, bravely trying -not to show that they cared, “The Merry -Hearts,”—or at least the Chapin House division -of them, with the B’s thrown in for full -measure,—met, one sultry July afternoon, on -Mary’s big, vine-shaded piazza and, chattering -like magpies, drank inordinate quantities of -lemonade and iced tea and heard from the -bride-to-be all the whys and wherefores of her -impromptu wedding.</p> - -<p>“Haven’t I told any of you why we -changed?” asked Mary. “No, Babe, it wasn’t -because we hadn’t the strength of mind to -wait till August. It was because my Uncle -Marcellus gave us a desert island up on the -Maine Coast for a wedding present. Roberta, -pass the cookies to yourself, please.”</p> - -<p>“Query,” propounded K. gaily. “When<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</span> -given a desert island for a wedding present is -it obligatory to take possession instantly or -forever after keep away?”</p> - -<p>“Don’t be foolish,” said Mary severely. -“It was this way, don’t you see. The island -has a gorgeous camp on it, and of course we -want to go there for our honeymoon, and why -shouldn’t we start early and stay all summer? -If we had waited until the middle of August, -as we planned, that desert island would have -gone to waste for one whole month.”</p> - -<p>“Which would ill become the desert island -of a psychology professor,” declared Madeline. -“Who says that the college girl doesn’t bring -intellect to bear on the practical affairs of -life?”</p> - -<p>“Hear, hear!” cried Bob, waving her lemonade -glass. “Here’s to the college bride, -who lets no desert island waste its sweetness -on the empty air! Here’s to the impromptu -wedding! Here’s to the first ‘Merry Heart’ -reunion! Here’s——”</p> - -<p>“Hush, Bob,” Babbie protested. “You’re -disgracing the bridal party in the eyes of -the neighborhood. Take us up to see the -trousseau, Mary, please.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</span></p> - -<p>“I’ll bet there’s nothing very impromptu -about that,” declared Babe.</p> - -<p>“Oh, girls, I hope you’ll like it,” began -Mary anxiously, leading the way indoors. -“I’ve positively worn myself out trying to -have it right—right for a Harding professor’s -wife, I mean.”</p> - -<p>“Picture Mary looking twenty in pink -chiffon, being a patroness at the junior prom,” -cried K., picking up the small bride and -standing her in a piazza chair.</p> - -<p>“Picture Mary behind an armful of violets, -sitting on the stage at the big game, trying to remember -that she’s Mrs. Professor Hinsdale and -mustn’t shriek for the purple,” added Rachel.</p> - -<p>“Picture Mary in a velvet suit and a picture -hat, making her first calls on the faculty,” -jeered Bob.</p> - -<p>“When she’s fairly pining to go snow-shoeing -with her little friends in the senior class,” -added Babe convincingly.</p> - -<p>“Stop teasing her,” commanded Betty, -helping Mary down from her lofty perch. -“She’ll be the nicest professor’s wife that ever -was—see if she isn’t! Now come and label -her dresses for the proper occasions.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</span></p> - -<p>It was most absorbing—deciding what Mary -should wear to faculty parties, to college lectures, -to the president’s dinners—“Just to -think of being invited to dinner at Prexie’s!” -said little Helen Adams in awed tones—“to -house plays, to senior dramatics, and to all -the other important functions of the college -year.” It took a long time, too, because of -course such delicate questions couldn’t be decided -without seeing Mary in each dress, and -getting “the exact combination of youth, -beauty, and dignity that resulted,” as K., who -explained that she was practising “school-ma’am -English,” put it.</p> - -<p>And then there were so many digressions. -It was only two weeks since they had separated -at Harding, but in the meanwhile a great deal -seemed to have happened. Helen had accepted -a position to teach English in her home -high school. Eleanor was to join her family -after the wedding for a hastily planned trip -through the Canadian Rockies. Most exciting -of all, Bob had actually established her -fresh-air colony.</p> - -<p>“It’s great,” she declared. “When I asked -father if I might have some slum children out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</span> -for two weeks he thought I was joking, so he -said yes, and when those six dirty little ragamuffins -suddenly dawned upon his vision last -Saturday night he was furious. But I coaxed -a little, and I got him to give the boys a -Fourth of July oration, and when Jimmie -Scheverin hopped up and solemnly thanked -him for his unique and inspiring address, he -gave in. He’s staying at home now to look -after things while I’m gone. He said he -guessed Wall Street could get along without -him.”</p> - -<p>“But if they’re only going to stay two -weeks, Bob,” began Babe hastily, “I don’t -see why——” She stopped in sudden confusion.</p> - -<p>“Why what?” demanded Katherine curiously.</p> - -<p>“Oh, why I’ve talked such a lot about it, -she means,” explained Bob calmly. “When -these leave there are others coming, Babe. -There’s an unlimited supply of fresh-air -children,—millions of them. That’s why we -can’t keep Jimmie Scheverin more than two -weeks, in spite of his enthusiasm for father’s -oratory and father’s enthusiasm for Jimmie.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</span> -So it’s no use trying to persuade me to go off -on frivolous trips with you.”</p> - -<p>“Where are you going, Babe?” asked Betty -idly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t know that I’m going anywhere,” -said Babe, with a conscious little -giggle. “Where are you?”</p> - -<p>Betty explained that they were going to -have a cottage for a month or two at some seaside -place near New York—it hadn’t been decided -when she left home, but father was -going to write her. This information the B’s -and Madeline received with solicitous and -solemn interest. Indeed they asked Betty so -many questions, that Mary finally declared -her wedding was being shamefully neglected.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know about the wedding,” said -Mrs. Brooks, appearing at that minute, -“but the groom is on the piazza, and six presents -have come——”</p> - -<p>In the rush down-stairs that followed Babbie -pulled Babe into a corner. “You’ll let the -cat out of the bag if you’re not more careful,” -she declared reproachfully.</p> - -<p>“I will be more careful,” Babe promised. -“But why doesn’t her father hurry up and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</span> -decide? I shall burst if I can’t talk about it -pretty soon.”</p> - -<p>“The loveliest old brass samovar,” cried -Eleanor.</p> - -<p>“From Miss Ferris!” added Betty. “That -makes it all the nicer.”</p> - -<p>“And a silver dish from Prexie and Mrs. -Prexie.”</p> - -<p>“That’s what you get for marrying a -faculty.”</p> - -<p>“Isn’t it distinguished?” said Babbie, rushing -after the others. “I don’t see how you -can think of anything else, Babe.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I don’t go abroad every summer -the way you do,” explained Babe breathlessly. -“The most distinguished wedding that ever -happened couldn’t make me forget that I’m -going to see Paris and London and all the rest -of Europe.”</p> - -<p>“Not quite all, I hope,” laughed Babbie, -hurrying to shake hands with Dr. Hinsdale -and Marion Lawrence, who was going to be -Mary’s maid of honor.</p> - -<p>Everybody agreed that Mary’s impromptu -wedding was a decided improvement upon the -usual cut-and-dried variety. There was certainly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</span> -nothing cut and dried about it. When -the sun had gone below the tops of the tall -elm trees on the lawn and the shadows fell, -long and cool, on the velvety grass, Mary -appeared on the piazza, wearing a soft white -dress—“that didn’t look a bit like a wedding,” -as little Helen Adams announced with her -customary frankness. First she kissed her -mother and patted her father’s shoulder lovingly, -just as she did every morning before -breakfast, and then she shook hands with -everybody else, as unconcernedly as if it was -no day in particular and all her dearest friends -had merely happened to drop in for afternoon -tea. But all at once, before anybody except -the people concerned had noticed it, there was -a cleared space in one corner, with a screen of -ferns and white sweet peas for a background. -Laurie and Roberta and Betty were close -behind Mary, her father and Dr. Hinsdale -were beside her, the “near-bridesmaids” and -“near-ushers,” as K. had flippantly dubbed -the rest of the bridal party, made a half circle -around the others, and Mary Brooks, with one -great white rose in her hand and a half-frightened, -half-happy little smile on her lips,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</span> -was being married to George Garrison Hinsdale.</p> - -<p>When it was over, everybody went indoors -and had all sorts of cooling things to eat -and drink. Meanwhile the bridesmaids, and -“near-brides” had slipped away to put on -some Roumanian peasant costumes, and “the -next number on the program”—according to -Katherine—was some curious wedding dances -that Roberta had learned and taught to the -others. Some were graceful and some were -amusing, and the music was so gay that it -made everybody feel like dancing too. And -that was what they did, by the soft light of -Japanese lanterns, until it was time to fill -one’s hands with confetti and old slippers and -speed the wedding-pair on their way to the -desert island that would not be deserted any -more that summer.</p> - -<p>As the girls sat on the piazza talking it all -over with Mrs. Brooks, who declared she -simply couldn’t realize that “little Mary” -was old enough to be getting married, Dr. -Brooks came out, bringing a letter for Betty.</p> - -<p>“Don’t ask me how long I’ve had it in my -pocket, Miss Betty,” he said with a twinkle<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</span> -in his eyes. “It beats everything how a wedding -does upset me.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” laughed Betty, -“as long as you’ve remembered it in time for -me to know where I’m going to-morrow. -It’s from father, telling me which cottage -they’ve taken. Will you excuse me if I read -it right now, Mrs. Brooks?”</p> - -<p>The next minute Betty gave a little shriek -of delight, dropped her letter, and seizing -Babbie’s hands whirled her madly down the -length of the piazza. Finally she dropped -breathlessly down on the broad railing, pulling -Babbie to a seat beside her.</p> - -<p>“Isn’t it just too elegant for anything!” -she sighed. “And to think how near Babe -came to telling, and I never guessed a thing.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II<br /> -<span class="smaller">A GOING-AWAY PARTY—HARDING STYLE</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">For</span> a while everybody who didn’t know -what the excitement was about asked questions -at once, and everybody who did, which -meant the B’s and Madeline, answered at -once,—a process resulting in that delightful -confusion that is the very nicest part about -telling a secret. Finally things quieted down -a little, and Babbie was called upon to “tell -us all about it.”</p> - -<p>“Why, it’s just this way,” she explained. -“Mother’s doctor ordered her to Europe. She -isn’t strong, you know, and the change is good -for her. But he said she mustn’t motor this -time because it’s too wearing; but must travel -quietly, and rest a lot, and so on. Well, -mother isn’t much for quiet herself, so she was -afraid I might be bored, just with her and -Marie, and no car to run while she takes naps. -So she told me to ask Bob and Babe to join us—this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</span> -all came up after commencement, you -understand. And Babe would, but Bob -wouldn’t, because of her fresh-air kids; so then -I asked Betty. Not that she’s second choice -one bit,” added Babbie hastily, “only of -course the B’s——”</p> - -<p>“You needn’t apologize,” Betty interrupted -her. “Of course the B’s ask each other first! -As for me, I’m too overjoyed to be going to -think of anything else.”</p> - -<p>“But I don’t see why you didn’t tell her -that you’d asked her,” said little Helen Adams, -the practical minded.</p> - -<p>“Oh, that was mother’s idea,” Babbie went -on. “She wanted you to come, Betty, just as -much as I did; but she said that she didn’t -know your father and mother, and she didn’t -know how they would feel about trusting their -daughter for a whole summer to a perfect -stranger. And she thought it would be easier -for them to refuse, for that or any other -reason, if you didn’t know. Oh, I’ve just -been aching to have you get that letter,” sighed -Babbie rapturously.</p> - -<p>“But suppose it had said the wrong thing,” -suggested Babe.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</span></p> - -<p>“Then we could have talked about it all the -same,” put in Madeline. “I like the way you -leave me out of all your explanations, Babbie -Hildreth.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I can’t think of everything at once,” -Babbie defended herself. “Besides, you just -dropped in.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I’m only the impromptu feature,” -said Madeline sadly. “I always am. As I -have often explained before, I was born that -way.”</p> - -<p>“But I thought you were in a terrible rush -to get to Sorrento,” said Rachel.</p> - -<p>“I was,” admitted Madeline. “But after -all why should I be in a rush? Why -shouldn’t I go to Sorrento via some fun just -as well as by any other route? Sorrento will -keep.”</p> - -<p>“Where is your party going, Babbie?” inquired -Mrs. Brooks, who had been much entertained -by all the excitement.</p> - -<p>“Well, we’re going to sail to Glasgow, -because we couldn’t get passage to any other -port on such short notice. And then the -doctor thinks mother ought to have some cool, -bracing air to begin with. After that we<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</span> -don’t know. Mother says that we girls may -choose, and of course Babe and I didn’t want -to discuss it without Betty. And now Madeline -says that it’s more fun just deciding as -you go along. Mother thought it would be -dull without a car,” Babbie went on eagerly, -“but do you know I think it’s going to be more -exciting without one, because when you have -it you feel as if you ought to use it, and you -have to keep to good roads. I always thought -that when James didn’t want to go to a place, -or Marie didn’t, James said the road was bad. -Marie hates little villages, and I just love them. -And Madeline will think up all sorts of queer, -fascinating things to do.”</p> - -<p>“The principal feature, though impromptu,” -murmured Madeline. “Are you -going away back home again for the week -before we sail, Betty?”</p> - -<p>Betty shook her head. “Nan has packed -the things she thinks I’ll want, and I’m to -join her at Shelter Island and help get the -cottage ready for the rest of the family. -They’ll all be here in time to see me off.”</p> - -<p>“Why don’t you ask us all down there to -spend the day?” suggested Madeline. “Then<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</span> -perhaps our stay-at-home friends would take -the hint and give a going-away party for us.”</p> - -<p>“But we shan’t be here,” chorused Helen, -Roberta, Rachel, Eleanor, and Katherine.</p> - -<p>“And I couldn’t possibly come down for all -day. Daddy won’t desert Wall Street so soon -again,” added Bob sadly.</p> - -<p>“It’s a shame not to have the party. We -could think of lots of lovely things to do,” -sighed Roberta.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter with doing them to-morrow?” -proposed Dr. Brooks. “You can’t -leave Mrs. Brooks and me too suddenly, you -know. We’ve got to get used to missing Mary -gradually. Now I’ll take you all to town in -the morning and give you lunch at my club. -By the time we get back, the house will be in -order again and we’ll have that going-away -party to amuse us during the evening.”</p> - -<p>There was a little objection at first, for all -the girls had expected to leave the next day; -but Dr. Brooks speedily overruled their arguments. -They had come to the wedding, he -declared, and cheering up the bereft parents -was part of the ceremony—everybody knew -that; whereas one day at the other end of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</span> -trip wouldn’t matter at all. So Babe nominated Bob -and Roberta as committee on arrangements -for the going-away party and, according -to “Merry Heart” procedure, unceremoniously -declared them elected, after which -Dr. Brooks carried them off to his study to -make plans for the next day’s campaign.</p> - -<p>The going-away party was a distinctly collegiate -function, marked by all the originality -and joyous abandon that belong by right to -every Harding festivity. Contrary to social -precedent it began with toasts. That was -Eleanor’s fault, Bob explained. She had -made a mistake and put ice in the lemonade -too soon, and so it had to be drunk immediately. -So Katherine grew eloquent on “the -Sorrows of Parting for the Second Time in -Two Weeks, when you have exhausted all -your pretty speeches on the first round.” Bob -described “Europe As I Shall Not See It,” and -Babe “Europe As I Hope to See It if not -Prevented by the Frivolity of my Friends.” -Madeline was really witty in her account -of “the Impromptu Elements in Foreign -Travel—myself, the English climate, and -others.” Rachel toasted “the Desert Island<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</span> -Honeymooners, absent but not forgotten,” and -Dr. Brooks explained “the Uses of Near-Bridesmaids,” -to the infinite amusement of -his guests. After that Roberta said she was -sorry about there not being time for the other -toasts, but they were all written down on the -program and if everybody would tell Babbie -that hers was too cute for anything and -Eleanor that she could certainly make the -best speeches, they would pass on to the -“stunts.”</p> - -<p>These consisted of examinations to test the -fitness of the European party for its trip. -Betty was the first victim. She was required -to tie on a chiffon veil “so you will look too -sweet for anything and all the men on board -the boat will be crazy about you,”—though -Rachel pointed out that it wasn’t much of a -test, because Betty always looked that way. -Next Madeline was requested to prove that -she knew how to be seasick on the proper occasions. -Babe, whose French accent had been -a college joke, was made to “parler-vous” an -order for lunch, though she protested hotly -that Babbie and Madeline were going to do -that part—she had made her family promise<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</span> -solemnly that she shouldn’t be bothered with -learning anything ever any more, till she -wanted to. And Babbie, who had announced -in one breath that she was going to travel -with just one little steamer trunk this time, -and in the next that she should buy four -dresses at least in Paris, was invited to demonstrate -how she meant to carry the clothes she -needed for the trip and the four dresses all in -“one little trunk.”</p> - -<p>“Not to mention the things you are going -to bring home to us,” Bob reminded her.</p> - -<p>“Oh, but I shall have Marie pack the -dresses in one of mother’s trunks,” Babbie -explained easily.</p> - -<p>“Crawl!” declared K. “As a forfeit you -are condemned to do ‘Mary had a little lamb’ -in your best style.”</p> - -<p>“And Roberta ought to do the jabber-wock -for us,” suggested Eleanor.</p> - -<p>“And Madeline ought to sing a French -song,” added Betty.</p> - -<p>So all the “Merry Heart” stunts, that had -amused them at Harding for four long years, -and were just as funny now as they had ever -been, were merrily gone through with.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</span></p> - -<p>“Ladies and gentlemen,” declaimed Bob at -last, “we have at last arrived at the real business -of this farewell party, which is the presentation -of a few slight tokens of our affection, -and the delicate intimation of the objects -of art——”</p> - -<p>“Or wearing apparel,” put in K.</p> - -<p>“That we should most like to get in return,” -concluded Bob pompously, with a withering -glance in K.’s direction. “I may say in -passing that the aforesaid intimation is strictly -by request.”</p> - -<p>The stay-at-homes and Dr. Brooks disappeared -for a few minutes and came back in a -laughing, bundle-laden procession, with Dr. -Brooks at its head.</p> - -<p>“I heartily approve of your resolution to -travel with as little baggage as possible,” said -the doctor solemnly, “so I’ve put up these -prescriptions for seasickness in as concentrated -a form as possible.” And he presented -Betty and Babbie each with a half-gallon -bottle, and Babe and Madeline with huge -wooden boxes marked “Pills.” A tag on -Babe’s read, “To be exchanged for fruit on -day of sailing.” Madeline’s tag said, “Good<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</span> -for the same size at Huyler’s,” while Betty’s -specified salted almonds, and Babbie’s preserved -ginger.</p> - -<p>“I’ll see that the goods are delivered at -your boat,” the doctor assured them, “and if -the ship’s physician doesn’t get some practice -out of you it certainly won’t be my fault.”</p> - -<p>“But you haven’t told us what you want -us to bring you,” said Betty.</p> - -<p>“Yourselves safe and sound,” said Dr. -Brooks gallantly.</p> - -<p>The girls were not so modest. Helen, who -had stayed at home from the city to print the -travelers’ names in indelible ink on three -dozen laundry markers apiece, confessed shyly -that she had always wanted a good photograph -of the Mona Lisa.</p> - -<p>“To think that you’re going to see the real -one!” she said. “I’m going to begin right -away to save my money for a trip abroad.”</p> - -<p>“So am I,” echoed Rachel.</p> - -<p>“And I,” from K.</p> - -<p>European travel was evidently the “Merry -Hearts’” latest enthusiasm.</p> - -<p>“In the meantime,” laughed Eleanor, -“here are some baggage tags for the ones who<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</span> -are really going. They say you have to mark -all your bags and trunks over there, because -they don’t have checks, and you just have -to pick your things out of the big pile on the -station platforms.”</p> - -<p>“What elegance,” cried Betty, holding her -shining silver marker out at arm’s length for -inspection. “And what shall we bring you, -Eleanor, dear?”</p> - -<p>“A duke, if you don’t mind,” said Eleanor -solemnly, and Betty solemnly wrote it down -on the slip of paper on which she was recording -all the girls’ wishes.</p> - -<p>Roberta gave them each a tiny book of travel -sketches not too big to slip into a shopping-bag—one -was about English cathedrals, another -about English inns, and the third and fourth -described some Scotch and English castles.</p> - -<p>“They look rather interesting,” said Roberta -modestly, “and I remembered that none of -you was specially fond of history.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t throw it in my face that I once got -a low-grade,” Babe reproached her. “Say over -again the thing that you wanted, Roberta.”</p> - -<p>“A gargoyle,” repeated Roberta.</p> - -<p>Betty looked at her despairingly. “Please<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</span> -spell it, Roberta. I suppose Babbie and -Madeline know just what it is.”</p> - -<p>Babbie looked mystified. “Why should I -know anything like that, Betty?”</p> - -<p>“Because you’ve been to Paris six separate -times,” declared Madeline, “and motored all -through France besides. You evidently don’t -go in hard for architecture, Babbie.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, it’s architecture, is it?” said Babbie in -relieved tones. “Then I don’t see how we can -bring it home.”</p> - -<p>“Only a picture of one,” Roberta expostulated.</p> - -<p>“It’s not exactly architecture, Babbie,” -teased Madeline. “It’s an animal, generally. -Wouldn’t you like a real one better than a -picture, Roberta? They have them in the -Rue Bonaparte for two francs each.”</p> - -<p>By this time everybody was excited on the -subject of gargoyles and ready to listen while -Roberta explained that gargoyles are the -grotesque figures, usually in the shape of -animals, that ornament Gothic cathedrals, -especially the French ones.</p> - -<p>“They’re waterspouts as well as ornaments,” -protested Madeline. “Babbie Hildreth,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</span> -you don’t half know your Paris. Prepare -to walk down to Notre Dame in the rain -with me and see the gargoyles work.”</p> - -<p>“They sound perfectly fascinating,” said -Rachel. “Here’s a picture of one in this book -on architecture that I’ve brought for you. I believe -I’d rather have one than a pair of gloves. -Is two francs a lot of money, Madeline?”</p> - -<p>“If it isn’t, I want a gargoyle too,” declared -K. “Is there more than one kind?”</p> - -<p>“Enough kinds to suit all tastes,” laughed -Madeline. “It will be great fun picking out -appropriate gargoyles for the three of you. -What have you in that bundle, K.?”</p> - -<p>K. tossed the fat parcel at the travelers, -who found inside a pillow covered with -brown linen, with a 19— banner fastened -across it by way of ornament. “I hope you -won’t all feel like sleeping in your steamer -chairs at the same time,” she said. “I -couldn’t afford but one pillow, and I hadn’t -time to make any more banners.”</p> - -<p>Bob’s gift was four little towels, just the -right size to slip into a traveling bag for use -on trains or in railway stations, a fat little -pincushion with a bow to hang it up by on<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</span> -shipboard, and a little silk bag fitted with -needles, bodkins, thread, darning cotton, -buttons, hooks, a tiny pair of scissors, and -everything else that one could need in a -mending outfit.</p> - -<p>“A cousin of mine gave it to me for a graduating -present,” explained Bob, when the bag -had been duly admired, “but it makes me -sort of tired to look at it and think how many -things it would mend, and as the cousin is -safe in California, and I knew Betty would -take to it, I’m passing it on.”</p> - -<p>“We shall all take to it, I guess, as often -as our clothes come to pieces,” declared Babe. -“What shall we bring you, Bob?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t know—something queer and -out-of-the-way, that I can put on my dear old -Harding desk or hang up on the wall above -it. I don’t mean a picture, but any queer old -thing that you would know came from abroad -the minute you set eyes on it from afar.”</p> - -<p>“Won’t that be fun to hunt up,” murmured -Betty ecstatically, adding Bob’s choice to the -others. “Now, Mrs. Brooks, what shall we -bring you?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I know what she’d rather have,” cried<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</span> -Babbie, leaning over to whisper something in -Betty’s ear and Betty laughed and wrote a -few words on her paper. “It’s something -that we know you admire,” explained Babbie, -“because Mary had one nearly the same and -you said you wished you were a bride, so -people would give you such things. But perhaps -you’d rather choose for yourself.”</p> - -<p>But Mrs. Brooks professed herself quite -willing to abide by Babbie’s choice. She had -already told the girls that her going-away -present to them was to be flowers, so “the real -business of the meeting,” as Bob had expressed -it, was now over; and as everybody was leaving -early the next morning, it seemed best to -adjourn.</p> - -<p>There was nothing dismal about the good-byes -next day. Bob was the only one who -would be at the steamer to wave the travelers -a farewell, but the rest promised to write -steamer letters, and as Roberta said, “something -will turn up before long to bring us together -again. Things happen so fast in the -wide, wide world.”</p> - -<p>“It doesn’t look as if a September reunion -would amount to much,” said K., “with three<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</span> -school-ma’ams and a foreign resident in the -crowd.”</p> - -<p>“Somebody must get married,” announced -Babe. “People can always manage to come -to weddings. You’re all going to be married -sooner or later, except me and Bob—we’re -the man-haters’ union, you know—and -you might just as well be accommodating and -hurry up about it.”</p> - -<p>“You’re going to bring me a duke from -abroad,” Eleanor reminded her laughingly. -“If you pick out a nice one, I may decide to -use him for a husband.”</p> - -<p>“Of course we’ll pick out a nice one. -Won’t it be fun assisting at the nuptials of a -duke, girls? Grander even than the wedding -of a Harding professor.”</p> - -<p>“I hereby prophesy that Babe’s wedding is -next on the list,” cried K. gaily.</p> - -<p>“Why, Katherine Kittredge,” retorted -Babe indignantly, “haven’t I always -said——”</p> - -<p>“That’s the point,” K. interrupted her. -“Professed man-haters always marry young. -There was Jane Westover and—there’s my -train. Besides, you owe it to the crowd to be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</span> -accommodating and abandon man-hating in -the interests of matrimony and reunions.”</p> - -<p>“My wedding next on the list, indeed!” -murmured Babe angrily, as she waved her -handkerchief at the departing train. “We’re -going to be bachelor maids, aren’t we, Bob? -with saddle-horses and Scotch collies instead -of cats and canaries——”</p> - -<p>“And fresh-air children in the summers,” -added Bob absently. “I wonder what daddy’s -doing to keep Jimmie Scheverin out of mischief. -Here’s our train to town, girls.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III<br /> -<span class="smaller">OFF TO BONNIE SCOTLAND</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">I can’t</span> believe yet that I’m really going!” -Betty Wales stood on the promenade -deck of the Glasgow boat, her arms full of -Mrs. Brooks’s roses and Dr. Brooks’s salted -almonds. Will’s arms were full of flowers -too, and the Smallest Sister felt very important -indeed because she had been entrusted with a -fat package of steamer letters from Betty’s -Cleveland friends.</p> - -<p>“Beginning to feel a little homesick already?” -teased Will.</p> - -<p>Betty winked hard, and mother told Will -that he wasn’t playing fair, and suggested that -they should find the girls’ stateroom and leave -some of their bundles in it.</p> - -<p>“Miss Ayres is having a hunt for her trunk,” -said Nan, joining them. “It isn’t in your -stateroom, and it doesn’t seem to be on the -wharf.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</span></p> - -<p>“Why, she said she marked it to be put in -the hold,” said Betty. “Has she asked if it’s -there?” And Will was hurried off to find -Madeline and inquire.</p> - -<p>It wasn’t easy finding anybody or anything -on that dock. The edges were crowded with -people, the centre was filled with a confused -mass of struggling truck horses and shouting -drivers who were all terribly anxious to get -somewhere, and didn’t seem to make the least -progress in spite of all their noise. Deck-hands -were busy with trunks and boxes, which -they fastened to a pulley and swung out over -the heads of the people, and then up and down -again, into the hold. Once in a while a -hansom wriggled its way through the drays to -let out an excited passenger, who always acted -as if he had expected to find the boat gone -without him.</p> - -<p>That was the way Bob acted, as she jumped -out of her hansom and ran up the gangplank, -holding a small boy tight by each hand and -not paying the least attention to Babe and -Betty, who shrieked frantically at her from -their lookout on the upper deck.</p> - -<p>“I had to bring these,” she explained<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</span> -breathlessly, when the Smallest Sister had intercepted -her and conducted her to her friends. -“The housekeeper took two off my hands for -the day and the coachman took two, but -nobody would take Jimmie or Joe.”</p> - -<p>“A guy on de dock’s tryin’ to spiel wid -ye,” announced Jimmie, who had lost no -time in climbing up on the ship’s railing; and -there, sure enough, was Mr. Richard Blake, -with a fresh supply of flowers, making a -megaphone of his hands and trying to ask -where he should find Madeline.</p> - -<p>“Somewhere down there,” shrieked back -Betty. “But you’d better come up here and -wait. Babbie and Mrs. Hildreth haven’t even -come yet,” she added to the others. “What -if they should be too late?”</p> - -<p>“Seasoned travelers never come on board -till the last minute,” said Nan. “It shows -that you’re new to the business to be standing -around like this.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, but it’s such fun to watch everything,” -objected Babe. “I don’t mind people’s -knowing that it’s my first trip. It is, you -see. What’s that bell ringing for?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Wales looked at his watch. “It means<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</span> -that in five minutes more they’re going to put -us fellows off.”</p> - -<p>At that Babe got into a corner with her -mother and father, and Betty into another -with her family, leaving Bob to entertain Mr. -Blake until Madeline sauntered up with the -cheerful news that her trunk seemed to be lost -“for keeps.”</p> - -<p>“Just send it along if you happen to run -into it anywhere, Dickie,” she said, and Mr. -Blake promised to find it if it was anywhere -in “little old New York.”</p> - -<p>When the second bell had rung and the boat -began to empty of its visitors the girls remembered -Babbie again and began to be really -alarmed. But just as Betty was frantically -trying to ask her father, who had established -his party on the edge of the dock, what in the -world they should do if the Hildreths didn’t -come, Babbie appeared, cool and serene in -the prettiest of silk traveling suits. “Oh, I -thought you knew we’d come on board,” she -apologized. “Mother’s lying down and Marie -is with her, and I——” Babbie blushed -prettily. “Jack is awfully shy, and he just -hates to meet a lot of people, so we stayed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</span> -down below. I’m so sorry.” Babbie caught -sight of a tall youth shouldering his way to -the edge of the wharf, and waved a big bunch -of violets at him.</p> - -<p>“I wish we could start now,” said Madeline. -“This shouting last speeches indefinitely isn’t -all that it might be. Dick looks bored to -death.”</p> - -<p>“They’re taking up the gangplank,” announced -Babe excitedly, tossing a rose to Will.</p> - -<p>Just then a hansom drew up with a jerk, a -distinguished-looking gentleman tumbled out; -Jimmie Scheverin wriggled away from Bob’s -firm grasp and jumped to the horse’s head, and -the driver called to the crowd in general to -“lend him a hand” with the trunk.</p> - -<p>“No use hurrying now. They’ve given you -up,” called somebody, and the crowd roared -with laughter.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I say, give de guy anudder chanst,” -cried Jimmie shrilly, and even the dignified -gentleman laughed at that. He could afford -to, for they were letting down the gangplank -again.</p> - -<p>“He’s a prominent senator,” Babe whispered -eagerly. “I heard a man say so. Think of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</span> -having a boat wait for you! Well, we’re off -at last. Dear mummy! Goodness, father -waved so hard that he almost fell into the -water! Betty Wales, are you crying too?”</p> - -<p>The wharf was backing away from them; -the crowd of excited people, shouting and -waving flags and handkerchiefs, was only a -great blur of color now.</p> - -<p>“Well, that’s over,” said Madeline gaily. -“I hate good-byes. Babe, cheer up. It’s only -for three months, and you’re going to have the -time of your life. Come and get bath hours -and places for our steamer chairs, and then we -can explore the boat a little before it’s time to -eat our first and possibly our last meal afloat.”</p> - -<p>“And we must look at the mail,” added -Babbie, “and give most of our flowers to the -stewardess to put on our table in the dining-room.”</p> - -<p>“Aren’t you glad we’ve got some experienced -travelers in the party?” laughed Babe, -wiping away the tears, and taking Betty’s arm -she marched her off after the others. “Now -how did they know that was the deck steward? -I should be afraid of mixing him up -with the captain.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</span></p> - -<p>Three days later Babe smiled loftily at the -recollection of such pitiful ignorance. She -had explored the ship from stem to stern, had -stood on the bridge with the captain, danced -with the ship’s doctor, exchanged views on -the weather with the senator who had kept -the boat waiting, played deck golf and shuffle-board, -and made friends with all the children -on the ship. All this she had done the first -day out. The other two she had spent forlornly -in her berth, with the stewardess to -wait on her, Babbie and Madeline to amuse -her, when she felt equal to being amused, and -Betty to keep her company.</p> - -<p>“Betty’s getting ready to come up here -too,” she announced on the third afternoon, -tucking herself into the chair beside Babbie. -“Now we can decide where we’re going.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, there’s time enough for that,” objected -Madeline lazily. “Let’s enjoy the luxurious -idleness of shipboard while we can.”</p> - -<p>Babbie yawned. “I don’t enjoy it. A day -or so is all right, but eight!”</p> - -<p>“Specially if you’re inclined to be seasick,” -put in Babe with feeling.</p> - -<p>Betty appeared just then, and she agreed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</span> -with the B’s. “It’s all right if you’re an invalid -or tired, but as for me, I don’t see why -people talk so much about the joys of the trip -across. Being cooped up so long is stupid, and -makes everybody else act stupid, and it’s just -dreadfully dull.”</p> - -<p>“And there aren’t any possibilities in it, -somehow,” added Babe. “Of course you may -meet some interesting people, but you can’t do -anything but just talk to them a little and -pass on.”</p> - -<p>“Like ‘ships that pass in the night,’” quoted -Babbie solemnly. “I always associate the -people I’ve met on shipboard with too much -to eat and no place to put your clothes.”</p> - -<p>“And seasickish headaches,” added Babe. -“Isn’t it almost time for bouillon? The doctor -told me to keep eating and I’d be all right.”</p> - -<p>“There’s the bugle for it this minute,” said -Madeline, “and after that I propose a stunt. -Let’s all go off separately and see what excitement -we can unearth,—who can unearth the -most, I mean. I don’t agree with you about -the possibilities of shipboard. A town of -seven hundred people certainly has possibilities, -and that’s what we are,—a floating<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</span> -town. In order to make the contest more exciting, -let’s give the winner a chance to say -where we shall go first from Glasgow.”</p> - -<p>“Goodie!” cried Babbie. “That’s something -like. I knew you’d think up things to -do, Madeline. Do you two invalids feel equal -to so much exertion?”</p> - -<p>The invalids declared that after they had -had their mid-afternoon repast they should -feel equal to anything, and five minutes later -the four chairs were deserted.</p> - -<p>“Time limit, two hours,” called Madeline, -as she disappeared around the corner. “Meet -in our chairs, of course.”</p> - -<p>Betty lingered a little. Madeline’s plan -sounded very amusing, but she hadn’t much -idea how to carry out her part of it. She -sauntered slowly down the deck, past the row -of steamer chairs, many of whose occupants -smiled and nodded at her as she passed. They -might be very exciting people, Betty reflected, -but she should never find it out. Madeline -could do that sort of thing, not she. At the -end of the deck Betty stopped and leaning -over the railing looked off out to sea, wondering -what Will and Nan and the Smallest Sister<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</span> -were doing just then. Presently her glance -fell to the deck below. It was full of the -queerest people. They were having a mid-afternoon -lunch too,—drinking it with gusto -out of big tin cups. Most of them were men, -but near the cabin-door sprawled several children, -and a few women, with bright-colored -shawls over their heads, sunned themselves by -the railing.</p> - -<p>“Oh, that must be the steerage!” thought -Betty, and didn’t know she had said it out -loud until somebody answered her.</p> - -<p>“Yes, that’s the steerage,” said a deep voice -close to her elbow. “Should you like to go -down and see what the steerage is like?”</p> - -<p>Betty looked around and recognized the -senator who had kept the boat waiting.</p> - -<p>“Why—yes,” she began, blushing at the -idea of talking to such a great man. “I should -like to see it, only—isn’t it dreadfully dirty?”</p> - -<p>The senator laughed. “I hope not. If it -is, we needn’t stay long. You see—it’s a profound -secret from the ship’s officials—but I’m -going over on purpose to investigate steerages. -I’m seriously thinking of coming back in one -from Liverpool.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</span></p> - -<p>“You are!” Betty’s eyes opened wide in -amazement. “Without letting any one know -who you are?”</p> - -<p>The senator nodded. “Exactly. And by -the same token I’m making this little visit -to-day quite impromptu. Want to come? -You can talk to the women and find out if -they’re being made comfortable.”</p> - -<p>“If this isn’t exciting, I don’t know what -is,” Betty reflected, following the senator down -the steps to the lower deck and past the -guard,—who looked very threatening at first, -but bowed profoundly when he saw the senator’s -card,—into the network of low-ceiled -passages beyond the tiny square of open deck. -It was dirty, or at least it was unpleasantly -smelly. But by the time Betty had satisfied -her curiosity and would much rather have -turned and gone straight back to her comfortable -steamer chair, the senator had forgotten -all about her, and surrounded by a group -of eager men was deep in his investigation.</p> - -<p>“I can’t interrupt, and I can’t very well -skip off without saying anything,” thought -Betty sadly, “because he might remember me -after a while and try to find me.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</span></p> - -<p>Judging by their conversation with the -senator, most of the steerage passengers seemed -to be men—Scotch or Irish, going back to the -“Ould Country” for a visit to the “ould -folks.” Betty listened a few minutes, and -then went on to the end of the passage, which -opened out into a room that seemed to be -salon and dining-hall combined. Though -this room was nearly empty, the air was close -and stifling and Betty was going back to the -deck to wait there for the senator, when her -attention was attracted by a group of women -gathered in one corner. They were standing -around a little figure that sat huddled in a -forlorn heap on the wooden bench along the -wall. The woman—or the child, for she -looked hardly more than that—hugged a baby -tight in her arms, and rocked it back and forward, -moaning pitifully to herself all the -time.</p> - -<p>Betty hesitated for an instant, and then -went timidly up to the group. “What’s the -matter?” she asked softly of one of the bystanders, -a fat Irishwoman. “Can’t we do -something to stop her crying like that?”</p> - -<p>“Ah, it’s sore thruble she’s in, the pore<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</span> -young crayther,” explained the woman -eagerly. “Her fayther and her mither and -her two brothers died in the same week av -the dipthery, and she’s takin’ her baby sister -home to the ould folks. An’ she’s lost the -money for her ticket to County Cork.”</p> - -<p>“You mean she hasn’t any money at all?” -asked Betty in amazement.</p> - -<p>“Niver a cint,” the sympathetic Irishwoman -assured her. “Shure, ’twas lost or -stolen the first day out. Anyhow ’tis gone.”</p> - -<p>“An’ we’ve none of us ony over to be -lendin’ her,” another woman put in. “The -times is that bad, an’ all.”</p> - -<p>“How much does it cost to go to County -Cork?”</p> - -<p>“A pound an’ six from Derry.”</p> - -<p>“How much is that, and how do you get to -‘Derry’?” asked Betty in bewilderment.</p> - -<p class="p2b">“Oh, the boat lets you off at Derry, if you’re -for the ould country,” explained her interlocutress, -“and a pound an’ six is $6.50 in the -States money, miss. But she’d need a bite an’ -a sup on the way for her an’ the babe.”</p> - -<p class="p2"><span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</span></p> - -<p class="p2b">The girl had apparently paid no attention at -all to this colloquy. But now she lifted her tear-stained -face to Betty’s and held out the baby. -“It’s only for her I’m carin’,” she said. “I -had ten dollars saved over my passage back -an’ the train ticket, an’ that goes a long way -in Ireland. The old folks are poor, too, but I -thought they’d take her in for that, and what -I could be sendin’ them later. I couldn’t -tend her an’ work, too, but whatever shall I -do over here? There’s no work at all in Ireland.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<a id="illo1"><img src="images/i_056.jpg" width="400" alt="“IT’S ONLY FOR HER I’M CARIN’”" -title="" /></a></div> - -<p class="caption">“IT’S ONLY FOR HER I’M CARIN’”</p> - -<p class="p2">“What a darling baby!” cried Betty, as the -blue eyes opened and the little red face crumpled -itself into a tremendous yawn. “Why, -I never saw such big blue eyes!” The little -mother smiled faintly at this praise, and Betty -wanted to add that big blue eyes evidently -ran in the family. Instead she said, “Please -don’t feel so unhappy. I’ll see that you have -the money for the ticket to your friends, and -perhaps——” Betty stopped, not wishing to -promise anything for the others, though she -was sure that if Babbie saw the baby’s eyes -she would reduce the number of dresses she -meant to buy in Paris to three without a -murmur.</p> - -<p>“An’ she ain’t the worst off, ayther, ma’am,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</span> -put in Betty’s voluble informant. “There’s -an English gyrul that’s sick, pore dear, in her -bunk, wid an awful rackin’ cough and a face -as pale as death, an’ it’s tin cints she do be -havin’ to take her home to her mither that’s -a coster-woman in London town, an’ wants to -see her daughter before she dies.”</p> - -<p>“But why did she start if she didn’t have -enough money?” demanded Betty.</p> - -<p>“Wudn’t you, dearie, if you was dyin’ and -knew it?”</p> - -<p>“Ah, here you are. Are you ready to go -back?” The senator had pumped his audience -dry, and remembered Betty. “Well, how -is it? Do they complain of the service?” he -asked, as they went back to the upper deck.</p> - -<p>“The service—oh, I’m so sorry! I hadn’t -gotten around to ask them,” said Betty meekly, -and then burst out with the stories she had -heard.</p> - -<p>The senator listened intently, and his keen -eyes grew soft, as he fumbled for his pocketbook. -“That’s the point, my dear young -lady,” he said soberly. “After all, what are -two weeks’ comfort or discomfort to people as -poor as most of those? I saw a miserable fellow,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</span> -too,—sick and discouraged, taking his -motherless children back home before he dies. -But your girl is worse off. Give her this. It -will help a little.”</p> - -<p>Betty gasped at the size of the bill, but the -senator murmured something about wanting -to smoke and hurried off, and there was nothing -to do but go back to the others. She was -the last of the quartette to reach the rendezvous.</p> - -<p>“Two minutes late,” called Madeline as she -appeared.</p> - -<p>“That’s lucky,” laughed Betty, tucking her -rug in, “because I couldn’t possibly decide -where to go from Glasgow—I don’t know -enough about the geography of Scotland—and -my story is perfectly sure to take the -prize.”</p> - -<p>“H’m!” said Babe doubtfully. “I saw -you. You needn’t be puffed up because you -leaned over the railing and talked to a live -senator. I’ve been talking to a live actress—there’s -a whole company of them on board, -Madeline, and you’ve never discovered them.”</p> - -<p>“Which is she?” asked Babbie. “The -stunning woman with the blue velvet suit?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</span></p> - -<p>“No, the little mouse-like one with gray -furs, and she’s played with——”</p> - -<p>“Wait,” commanded Madeline. “You’ve -told enough for the first time round. The -stunning woman in blue velvet, if you -care to know, is the maid of the mouse-like -actress. I’ve talked to her. Now, Babbie.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’m out of it,” explained Babbie. -“Marie has a sore throat, and mother wanted -to be read aloud to.”</p> - -<p>“Well, the senator is only one of the people -I’ve talked to,” put in Betty eagerly. -“I’ve been in the steerage——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you lucky girl,” cried Madeline. “I -tried to go yesterday and got turned down. -How did you get past the guard? Do tell -us all about it.”</p> - -<p>So Betty “told,” saving the senator’s bill -for a climax. At the end of the story Babbie -declared that she simply must see the blue-eyed -Irish baby, and Babe winked back the -tears over the lonely English girl. While they -were talking, some Harding girls of an older -generation came up and made Madeline’s -Dramatic Club pin an excuse for introducing -themselves. Of course they heard about<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</span> -Betty’s visit to the steerage, and they were so -interested that Madeline had an idea.</p> - -<p>“All the passengers would like to help those -poor people, I’m sure. Couldn’t we give an -entertainment of some sort? There’s the captain, -Babe. Go ask him if he’s willing.”</p> - -<p>The captain assured Babe that “any show -she wanted went on his boat,” the little gray-gowned -actress, who had refused to appear at -the ship’s concert, promised that she and her -leading man would act a farce, the senator -volunteered to canvass the steerage for somebody -to dance an Irish jig, Babbie designed -some dainty souvenir programs, and the other -crowd of Harding girls arranged a “stunt -number” that proved to be the star feature of -the evening. Betty printed the tickets, and -the senator sold them all at twenty-five -cents “or over,” with astonishing financial -results.</p> - -<p>“That’s all right,” he said as he passed the -money over to Betty. “There are three -hundred first class passengers on this boat, but -six of them are judges—they pay double—and -five are colonels—it takes three tickets to get -in a colonel.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</span></p> - -<p>“And how many to get in a senator?” -laughed Betty.</p> - -<p>“Twenty,” said the senator solemnly, taking -them out of his pocket.</p> - -<p>So there was enough money to get the English -girl to London, and the Irish girl to -County Cork and then back to the States to -work for her blue-eyed baby sister, and something -over to pay the baby’s board with the -“ould folks,” and to help out the poor man -with the big family of children.</p> - -<p>“And the best of it is, it’s given us something -to do,” said Babe the last afternoon on -board. “I don’t believe I should have been -seasick if we’d thought of this sooner.”</p> - -<p>“Easy to say that when land is in sight,” -said Madeline loftily, squinting at the horizon -line.</p> - -<p>And sure enough land was in sight and -presently it turned out to be the loveliest, -greenest land that the girls had ever seen.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” demanded Babe excitedly. -“An island or a country?”</p> - -<p>None of the girls knew, but a friendly passenger -explained that it was both an island -and a country, for it was Ireland.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</span></p> - -<p>“Why, of course,” cried Babe. “That’s why -it’s so green. Is it really greener than other -places, or does it only look greener because -we haven’t seen any other places for eight -days?”</p> - -<p>Madeline and Betty thought it was really -greener, while the B’s inclined to the opinion -that it couldn’t be—that it was the atmosphere, -perhaps.</p> - -<p>“It’s certainly a queer atmosphere,” said -Babe, as they hurried up on deck after dinner, -to see the tender full of passengers off for -“Derry.” “It’s eight o’clock this minute, -and the sunset hasn’t finished up.”</p> - -<p>“See that lovely white farmhouse up on -that hill,” said Betty, pointing toward land. -“Doesn’t it look as if there were fairies in -those fields, girls?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know about the fairies,” said -Babe, “but I love the way the white foam -breaks on the green moss. Let’s go to Ireland.”</p> - -<p>“Why, we haven’t decided”—chanted four -voices together.</p> - -<p>“Where we’ll go from Glasgow,” finished -Babbie alone. “Well, it doesn’t matter, because -mother will have to rest a day or two<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</span> -before we go anywhere. Just think! The -poor thing hasn’t been up on deck yet.”</p> - -<p>“And while she’s resting,” put in Madeline, -“we can explore Glasgow and then, if -she’s willing, go down to Ayr. That’s a nice -little day trip.”</p> - -<p>“Let me see,” said Babe reflectively. -“Ayr—Ayr—I ought to know about it, but I -don’t.”</p> - -<p>“Robert Burns’ country,” explained Madeline -briefly. “Why, that tender is really -starting. Wave your handkerchiefs to the -baby’s sister, Betty. She’s almost dropping -the poor infant in her efforts to make you see -her.”</p> - -<p>“I looked at the map before dinner,” announced -Babe proudly. “I know just where -we are, and the real name of ‘Derry’ is Londonderry.”</p> - -<p>“I found that out too,” declared Betty. -“Maps are quite interesting when you’re on -one, aren’t they? I used to hate geography -in school, but from now on I shall adore it, -I’m sure.”</p> - -<p>“I must go and help Marie pack,” said -Babbie with a last glance at the green hills,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</span> -that were turning a beautiful misty gray in -the twilight.</p> - -<p>“We’ve got to pack too.”</p> - -<p>“And go to bed early, because we’ve got to -get up early.”</p> - -<p>“So as to land in Europe,” finished Babe. -“Doesn’t that sound too—sweet—elegant—grand -for anything. Come on and get busy, -girls.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV<br /> -<span class="smaller">A DISILLUSIONMENT MADE GOOD</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> next morning the rising bell rang uncomfortably -early, and everybody dressed and -breakfasted in nervous haste, pursued by the -fear of not being ready to get off the boat at -the critical moment. And then there was -nothing to do for an hour or so but “just wait -and wait and wait,” as Babe complained dolefully. -Babe was dreadfully impatient to -“land in Europe,” and found it simply tantalizing -to have to hang over the railing and -look at the shores of Scotland, with the little -gray town of Greenock hardly a stone’s throw -off. Betty, on the other hand, was willing to -wait because she thought Greenock so pretty, -with its curving bay, edged by a stone promenade, -and its gray stone houses, all very -much alike, standing in a neat row encircling -the shore.</p> - -<p>“It’s a summer resort,” she announced, -having consulted her Baedeker, which she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</span> -had brought up on deck to see just where -they were on the map of Scotland. “I wish -we could stay there for awhile. It looks so -quiet and quaint.”</p> - -<p>“It doesn’t look very exciting to me,” objected -Babe. “The idea of building summer -cottages of stone!”</p> - -<p>“They aren’t cottages,” explained Babbie, -“they’re villas. Don’t you know how people -in English novels always go and take lodgings -in a villa by the sea?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, do let’s do that,” cried Betty eagerly. -“It sounds so perfectly English.”</p> - -<p>“I’ve been looking over some Scotch addresses -that Mary Brooks gave me,” said -Madeline, “and I think we ought to go to -Oban. She and Marion Lawrence both said -it was the most fascinating spot they’d ever -seen. It’s a seaside resort too, Betty, and the -address they gave me is villa something or -other, so it answers all your requirements.”</p> - -<p>“Why, that’s the place mother’s doctor -spoke about,” put in Babbie. “I told him I -wanted to go to little out-of-the-way villages, -and he mentioned that one. How do you get -there, Madeline?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</span></p> - -<p>“Why, by boat, I think Mary said. Let me -take your Baedeker, Betty.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’m so glad she can make out trains -and things,” said Babbie, with a sigh of relief. -“Mother can’t and I can’t, and it’s such a -bother always to have to ask the hotel -people.”</p> - -<p>Presently Madeline announced that she -knew just how to go to Oban by boat, and -how to come back by train, and then Marie -appeared with a message from Mrs. Hildreth -that it was time for the girls to come down-stairs -and get their hand-baggage together.</p> - -<p>“But we’re not within ten miles of Glasgow -yet,” objected Babe, proud of her newly-acquired -knowledge of the geography of the -region.</p> - -<p>“Oh, we go there from Greenock on a -boat-train,” Babbie told her. “And here -comes a tender or a ferry, or whatever they -call it, to take us ashore.”</p> - -<p>So there was only time to say good-bye to -the funny old Scotch stewardess, who had -told them to “Come awa’” to their baths -every morning, to the other Harding girls, and -to the senator, who gave Betty his card and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</span> -made her promise to let him know when she -came to Washington; and then they were -chug-chugging over to the Greenock station, -where Madeline instructed the novices in the -art of getting one’s trunks through the customs, -while Babbie established her mother -comfortably on the train. Madeline had -quite given up finding her trunk and was -congratulating herself on having put so many -things into her “carry-all,” when she heard -the senator protesting volubly that his name -wasn’t Ayres and that he hadn’t brought a -trunk anyway, whereupon she pounced joyously -on her property and refused to let it out -of her sight again until it had been put aboard -the Glasgow train.</p> - -<p>Betty and Babe found the train very amusing. -Instead of long cars with rows of seats -on either side of the aisle, there were funny -little compartments, each holding eight or ten -people, half of whom were obliged to ride -backward whether they liked it or not. But -as this train wasn’t crowded, Mrs. Hildreth’s -party had a compartment all to themselves, -and Betty and Babe were free to exclaim as -much as they liked over the delightful queerness<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</span> -of European travel. Foxgloves and -chimney-pots were the two objects of greatest -interest en route. Babbie discovered the foxgloves -growing in a pretty little grove close -by the railroad track; the chimney-pots jostled -one another on the roof of every cottage they -passed, and as they came into Glasgow made -such an impression on Babe that she could -think of nothing else and almost fell out the -window in her efforts to count the most imposing -clusters.</p> - -<p>“It’s queer,” she said, leaning back wearily -as the train swept into a tunnel, “how nobody -ever tells you about the things you -notice most. Now I’ve talked to quantities -of people who’ve traveled in Europe, and not -one of them ever so much as mentioned -chimney-pots.”</p> - -<p>“Well, now you can make yourself famous -for your originality by mentioning them to -everybody,” said Babbie consolingly. “Here -we are in Glasgow. Who’s going to see about -the trunks?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, let me,” volunteered Betty. “Somebody -will have to show me how the first time, -but I want to learn.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</span></p> - -<p>So Madeline and Betty went off to find the -trunks and have them sent to the station -hotel, where Mrs. Hildreth had decided to stay -while they were in Glasgow.</p> - -<p>“It was too comical for anything,” Betty -told Babe afterward. “They just dumped all -the trunks and bags in a heap on the platform, -and each person picked out whatever -ones he pleased, and said they were his, and -got a porter to carry them away for him. -The English people must be very honest. -Imagine doing that way in America!”</p> - -<p>“We’ve been ‘booked’ for rooms at the -hotel,” said Babe, laughing over the queer -word. “And that’s luggage that you’re -carrying,—not baggage any more, please remember. -So come along and have lunch and then we -can go out and see the sights.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hildreth was quite willing that the -girls should explore Glasgow without her, -and spend the next day in Ayr, if they -pleased.</p> - -<p>“I don’t need to worry about you,” she told -them, “for I’m sure you are all too sensible -to do any foolish or foolhardy things. On -the continent you may have to be a little<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</span> -more particular, but here and in England you -can do about as you like.”</p> - -<p>“I wish you could come too, Mrs. Hildreth,” -said Betty, when they were ready to start.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hildreth smiled at her. “So do I, -my dear. Just as soon as I’m a little rested, -I shall be delighted to go with you whenever -you’ll take me. I quite look forward to seeing -Europe in such good company.”</p> - -<p>“Poor little mother!” said Babbie, as they -went off. “She never had a chance to do as -she liked when she was a girl. She always -had nurses and governesses trailing around -after her, and then she went to a fashionable -school in Boston, where you take walks two -and two and never stir without a chaperon. -After that she had to ‘come out’ in society, -though she hated it as much as Bob does, and -wanted to study art in Paris. But her mother -thought that was all nonsense for a girl who -had plenty of money. So when I wanted to -go to college mother let me, and she often -says she’s awfully glad that my best friends -are girls who can go ahead and have a good -time anywhere—not the helpless society -kind.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</span></p> - -<p>“I say, where are we aiming for?” Babe -demanded suddenly.</p> - -<p>“For the Glasgow Cathedral,” answered -Madeline placidly. “This way, please.”</p> - -<p>“This way please! Follow the man from -Cook’s,” chanted Babbie mockingly. And -after that Madeline was known as “the man -from Cook’s,” because her easy fashion of -finding her way around each place they -visited, whether or not she had been there -before, rivaled the omniscience of the great -tourist agency.</p> - -<p>So under Madeline’s capable guidance they -visited the beautiful old cathedral and then -took an electric tram, which is like an electric -car with seats on the roof and a spiral stairway -at the back leading up to them, out to -the park and the art gallery. After Babe -had looked at the one great treasure of the -gallery, Whistler’s portrait of Thomas Carlyle, -she announced that she had seen enough for -one day, and would wait for the others outside.</p> - -<p>“Let’s all say ‘enough,’” suggested Babbie, -“and go for a tram-ride. I move that the -man from Cook’s be censured for telling us<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</span> -that it wasn’t far enough out here to pay us -for climbing to the top-story of the tram. -Hereafter it is going to be a rule that we always -ride on top.”</p> - -<p>“I should say it was,” Babe seconded her -eagerly. “My father owns a trolley line in -Rochester, New York, and I’m going to write -and tell him about this second-story idea. -I’m sure people would flock from all over the -country to ride up on the roof of the cars. -Then he’d make piles of money and I could go -abroad every summer, the way Babbie does.”</p> - -<p>“Let’s just ride back to town on top,” suggested -Betty, “and then go and have tea at -the address Mary Brooks gave us. She said -it was the nicest tea-shop they went to anywhere.”</p> - -<p>This suited everybody, and they had all -climbed up on the second story of the tram, -and were settling themselves for the ride -back, when Babbie gave an exclamation of -delight. “Why, that’s John Morton standing -on the steps of the art gallery. Oh, do let’s -get off! I want to go back and talk to him. -Why, I hadn’t the least idea he was in -Europe!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</span></p> - -<p>“Oh, don’t let’s get down again,” wailed -Betty, who had stepped on her skirt-braid -in climbing up, and was trying to repair -damages with pins. “It’s such dreadfully -hard work.”</p> - -<p>“We can’t,” declared Madeline decisively. -“We’ve paid our tuppences, and we couldn’t -get them back.”</p> - -<p>“I wish I could remember to say tuppence,” -sighed Babe enviously. “Who is John Morton, -Babbie? Are you sure it’s he on the -steps?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I think so,” said Babbie eagerly. “I -wish he’d turn around again, and I could -be sure. He’s just the jolliest fellow, and I -haven’t seen him for two years. Oh, dear, -we’re starting!” as the tram gave a jerk and -a lurch, and was off.</p> - -<p>“Never mind, Babbie,” teased Babe. “Remember -your dear Jack and the touching -farewell that caused us all so much anxiety. -We can’t be bothered with another of your -suitors so soon.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t apply the title of suitor to John, -please,” laughed Babbie, leaning over for a -last look at the figure on the steps. “He’s as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</span> -much of a professed woman-hater as you are -man-hater, but he makes an exception of me -because I like to tramp and ride horseback. -You’d like him, Babe. Madeline, do you -know where to get off for this tea place?”</p> - -<p>Madeline didn’t; and as the conductor didn’t -see fit to come up, Babbie had to climb down, -while the tram was going at full speed, to -find out.</p> - -<p>“I wouldn’t have missed this for anything,” -said Madeline, when they were settled -at one of the tables in Miss Jelliff’s Tea -Rooms. The seats were carved oak settles, -there were wonderful brass candlesticks in -niches by the door, and on the tables were -bunches of pale blue irises, to match the blue -china. The bread was in what Babe called a -“three-story revolving bread-case,” the toast -in a quaint little English toast-rack, and the -jam, pepper and mustard in fascinating pots, -while the cups, though all blue, were of different -shapes and patterns.</p> - -<p>“Let me pour the tea,” begged Betty. -“Which cup do you each choose?”</p> - -<p>“I’m so glad we came,” said Babe. “First -maxim for travelers: When you have had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</span> -enough, stop. As I thought of that, I demand -first choice of cups.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” conceded Madeline. “Second -maxim for travelers: When in doubt, drink -afternoon tea. I demand second choice of -cups.”</p> - -<p>“I shall get third choice, anyway, shan’t -I?” said Babbie. “So I needn’t weary my -brains thinking of maxims.”</p> - -<p>So Betty poured the tea, and Madeline told -fortunes for all the party in the grounds, after -which the smiling waitress appeared and asked -them how much bread they had eaten.</p> - -<p>“I hated to own up to five pieces,” sighed -Babe, “not because I begrudged the beggarly -pence they cost, but because I am ashamed of -my appetite. Girls, there are more rooms -up-stairs.”</p> - -<p>“Let’s have breakfast here to-morrow before -we go to Ayr,” suggested Betty. “Mrs. -Hildreth won’t be up early enough to eat -with us at the hotel, so we might just as well -come here.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” agreed Babbie. “Does the -man from Cook’s know when trains leave for -Ayr?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</span></p> - -<p>He didn’t, and there was a rush to -find out and purchase tickets before dinner-time.</p> - -<p>“I’m crazy to see Ayr,” said Babe the next -day. “I’m very fond of Burns’s poems, and -I can just imagine the sleepy, old-fashioned -little hamlet he was born in. His birthplace -and the haunted kirk and the bridges across -the Doon and all the other Burns relics are -out in the country, about two miles from the -station. Let’s buy some fruit and sweet chocolate -and eat our lunch on the way. It will -be a lovely walk, I’m sure.”</p> - -<p>“Along English lanes, with tall hedgerows -on each side,” added Babbie dreamily. -“What a pity it’s too late for primroses.”</p> - -<p>So great was their disappointment, when -the train stopped at Ayr, to find themselves -in a busy, prosperous, specklessly clean town, -with a paved square just back of the station, -where one was expected to sit and wait for the -tram that ran out to the birthplace of Robert -Burns once in ten minutes.</p> - -<p>“There’s nothing to do but take their old -tram, I suppose,” sighed Babe disconsolately. -“It’s no fun walking along a car-track.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</span> -Fancy this smug, bustling factory-town being -Ayr! Is all Europe fixed up like this, Madeline?”</p> - -<p>Madeline assured her that it wasn’t, and -Babbie declared that if Oban was horrid and -new they would go straight to London by the -first train. “For there’s nothing horrid and -new about London,” she declared.</p> - -<p>When they arrived at the house where -Burns was born, Babe objected again because -the thatched roof and the whitewashed walls -looked so new; but the churchyard was -beautiful and the “Auld Brig” picturesque, -and they were just beginning to enjoy themselves, -when two heavily-loaded trams came -up, and soon the place was swarming with -talkative Americans, most of them from the -same boat that the girls had crossed on.</p> - -<p>“It’s a party,” explained Babe, when she -had escaped from the embraces of a pretty -young girl who had taken a fancy to her on -shipboard. “That fat man with spectacles -is the conductor. See them all gather around -him while he reads selections from Tam -O’Shanter. Goodness! Wouldn’t I hate to -do Europe with a bunch like that!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</span></p> - -<p>“Let’s go back,” said Babbie sadly. -“Haven’t we seen everything?”</p> - -<p>“And if we hurry we may get there in -time for tea at Miss Jelliff’s,” added Betty. -“There’s a room we haven’t been in yet, you -know.”</p> - -<p>Babbie was very quiet all the way back. -As they took their places around the tea-table -she announced proudly, “Third maxim for -tourists: Avoid birthplaces. Now I can have -first choice of cups.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you think we ought to have a -maxim about avoiding conducted parties?” -asked Babe, helping herself to bread.</p> - -<p>“No,” said Madeline decisively, “I don’t. -The kind of tourists that our maxims are intended -for would know better than that without -being told. Girls, do you want to know -what I’m going to do next year?”</p> - -<p>“Of course,” chorused her three friends -eagerly.</p> - -<p>“Start a fascinating tea-room like this in -either Harding or New York.”</p> - -<p>“But I thought you were going to live in -Sorrento with your family.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t all Bohemians have to be artists?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</span></p> - -<p>“Then will you come back to America when -we do?”</p> - -<p>Madeline laughed at the avalanche of questions. -“All good Bohemians are artists,” she -explained, “but not necessarily in paint. -You can be an artist in tea-rooms, too, you -know. I suppose I shall try to write more or -less, since my family seem to expect it of me, -but until I’ve made my everlasting reputation -as a short-story writer I should like to have a -steady source of income, which is a thing that -most Bohemians don’t have. Besides, think -what fun it would be buying the china.”</p> - -<p>“It would be great,” declared Babbie solemnly. -“Don’t you want a partner, Madeline?”</p> - -<p>Madeline laughed. “Wait until I’ve broken -the news to my family, Babbie. As I only -thought of it this afternoon, my ideas of what -I want—except this darling china—are somewhat -vague.”</p> - -<p>“Well, anyhow,” persisted Babbie, “let’s -have tea-rooms for one of the dominant interests -of our trip. Don’t you remember in -one of Roberta’s books it says that every traveler -should have a dominant interest in order<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</span> -to get the most profit and pleasure out of his -journey.”</p> - -<p>“Well, what can the rest of us have?” -asked Betty, turning her teacup upside down -and twirling it around three times, ready for -Madeline to tell her fortune in the mystic -leaves.</p> - -<p>“Oh, we’ll get them as we go along, I guess,” -said Babbie easily. “I already know what -mine won’t be. It won’t be birthplaces.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hildreth was much amused at the -story of the day’s disillusionments.</p> - -<p>“It’s very hard nowadays to get away from -other American tourists,” she warned the girls. -“You mustn’t expect to have exclusive possession -of all these beautiful old pilgrimage -places.”</p> - -<p>Babbie groaned. “Suppose that awful conducted -party should go up to Oban on the -boat with us.”</p> - -<p>“If they should dare to do such a thing, -we’ll wait over a day,” Babe threatened savagely.</p> - -<p>But no such drastic measures proved necessary.</p> - -<p>“In spite of what your mother said, I verily<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</span> -believe we’re the only Americans on board,” -said Babe gleefully, as they swung out of -Greenock harbor next morning. It was a -glorious day, with fleecy white clouds scudding -across a blue sky and the sun turning -the sea to a sheet of sparkling silver. As they -got further out into the Firth of Clyde the -wind blew the clouds up over the sun and -wrapped the craggy islands in purple mists. -The scenery grew wilder and more magnificent -every moment, and the girls more enthusiastic. -Every time the boat stopped at a -pretty watering-place or a lonely fishing village, -Betty wished they could get off. “For -I don’t see how it can be any nicer than this -around Oban,” she said, “and what if it should -be like Ayr?”</p> - -<p>But all day the purple headlands grew -bolder and more beautiful, and when at last -Oban came into view it proved to be the -crowning glory of the day’s trip. The crescent-shaped -bay had a great rock to guard it -on one side and an ivy-covered ruin on the -other. Between them the little town clung to -the hills above the sea, its villas almost hidden -among the trees, and a huge stone amphitheatre,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</span> -which the girls couldn’t even guess -the meaning of, crowning the highest slope.</p> - -<p>Madeline had written ahead to “Daisybank -Villa,” so there was a boy to meet them at the -landing, take charge of their bags, and show -them the way up a steep, winding road, to the -house—such a pretty house, with roses climbing -around the door and real Scotch daisies -starring the turf of the tiny lawn.</p> - -<p>“Oh, see the ‘daisies pied,’” cried Babe in -great excitement. “There’s more of Robert -Burns in this yard than there was in the whole -of that horrid old Ayr. Do let’s have dinner -right off, so we can go and explore.”</p> - -<p>But dinner was at noon in “Daisybank -Villa,” so the pretty young housekeeper explained -apologetically. What they had now -was “tea,”—which meant bread and butter, -even nicer, if possible, than Miss Jelliff’s; hot -scones and bannocks—Babe demanded the -names of the blushing little waitress—the -nicest orange marmalade, fresh strawberries -smothered in thick cream, and tea with a -“cozy” to keep the pot warm.</p> - -<p>But the real feature of the occasion was the -bell which one rang by getting up from the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</span> -table and pulling a heavy red tassel that hung -behind a curtain by the door.</p> - -<p>“Exactly as they always do on the stage,” -said Babe in ecstasy, manfully resisting the -temptation to summon the waitress again just -for the fun of pulling the bell.</p> - -<p>“And we’re living in lodgings in a villa by -the sea,” added Betty. “I feel like the heroine -of a Jane Austen novel, and I’m going to -write to Nan this very evening. She’ll be so -pleased to think that I’ve at last had a literary -sensation.”</p> - -<p>After tea Babe and Madeline went out to -explore Oban, while Babbie helped Marie to -make Mrs. Hildreth’s room comfortable, and -Betty made a pretext of the letter to Nan to -wait for her.</p> - -<p>When the four girls met half an hour later -on the promenade Madeline and Babe were -laughing over a little adventure they had had.</p> - -<p>“We were walking along that road off -there,” Babe explained, “hurrying pretty fast, -because we wanted to go into that lovely ivy-covered -castle and be back here in time to -meet you. And as we passed two awfully -nice-looking youths, one said something to the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</span> -other in Dutch, and Madeline, having spent a -summer in Holland, understood it.”</p> - -<p>“And translated it into the American idiom -for Babe’s benefit,” Madeline took her up, “as -‘Get on to their stride,’—never thinking, of -course, that the men also understood English. -But they did, because the one who had said -that in Dutch had the audacity to smile and -remark to his friend in Italian that we were -the first Americans he’d ever met who understood -Dutch.”</p> - -<p>“And we couldn’t get into the ruin,” Babe -went on, “because the gate was locked, so we -came back and sat down here by the water to -watch the sunset. And by and by they -came back too, and that time they were talking -English—not for our benefit either, because -they didn’t see us.”</p> - -<p>“Well, were they Americans after all?” -asked Babbie.</p> - -<p>“Oh, no,” Madeline explained, “they were -Dutch, I suppose. The Dutch are great -linguists, you know.”</p> - -<p>“They looked awfully jolly,” said Babe regretfully, -“especially the one who admired our -stride. If he’d been an American he’d have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</span> -stopped and apologized for his rude remark, -and helped us climb the wall into the castle -gardens. It’s awfully high and it has broken -glass on top just like a story-book, and you -can go in only on Tuesdays and Fridays.”</p> - -<p>“How disgusting for a castle to have at-home -days!” said Babbie. “I love ruins, and -we passed so many nice ones on the way up. -Isn’t there any other near Oban, man from -Cook’s?”</p> - -<p>“I’ll find out in the morning,” Madeline -promised. “At present I feel more like bed. -It’s half-past nine, if it is broad daylight.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V<br /> -<span class="smaller">A RUIN AND A REUNION</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> next morning at breakfast Madeline -announced that she had found a ruined castle -for Babbie.</p> - -<p>“The one with the ivy on it is Dunollie,” -she explained. “It belonged to the giant -Fingal once upon a time—he’s the giant that -had the cave out on one of those lovely purple -islands, you know. He must have either -lived in this castle, or visited here often, because -there is a stone in the yard that he used -to tie his dog to.”</p> - -<p>“And who used to live in my castle?” inquired -Babbie, making a wry face as she tasted -the queer English coffee. “I don’t wonder -the English drink tea for breakfast rather -than this horrible stuff. I’m going to have -milk. Whose turn is it to ring the bell? -Now, Madeline,” when Betty had proudly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</span> -pulled the bell-cord, and taken her seat again, -“tell us all about my castle.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know anything about it,” said -Madeline, “except that it is named Dunstaffnage, -and it’s somewhere on the shore, a few -miles north of Oban. I presume our landlady -can tell us just how to get to it.”</p> - -<p>“You’re sure it’s not on any tram-line?” -inquired Babbie anxiously. “I don’t want -the kind of ruin that’s on a tram-line, you -know.”</p> - -<p>“No, it’s not that kind,” Madeline assured -her. “You have to drive or walk to get -there.”</p> - -<p>“We’ll walk, of course,” said Babe, and -everybody agreed, though their landlady assured -them it was a “right smart distance -awa’.”</p> - -<p>“But ye’ll be all the hungrier for your dinner,” -she added comfortably. “What will ye -have for yer dinner?”</p> - -<p>“Why, anything you like to give us,” said -Betty, to whom she had addressed her remark.</p> - -<p>“Verra well. Lamb, perhaps, and strawberry -tartlets?”</p> - -<p>“Strawberry tartlets for mine,” cried Babe,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</span> -throwing her tam-o’-shanter in the air. “We’ll -be back in time for strawberry tartlets, no -matter how good a time we’re having.”</p> - -<p>So they started briskly off to find the -castle,—a merry party in tam-o’-shanters and -sweaters,—for the wind fairly whistled across -the moors, and it seemed more like November -than July, Betty said.</p> - -<p>“That’s because Scotland is so far north,” -said Babe wisely. “The long twilights come -from that too. It’s almost like the land of the -midnight sun.”</p> - -<p>“Well, it’s certainly awfully cold,” said -Babbie. “Let’s race.”</p> - -<p>So they raced down the hard white road till -they had reached the graveyard that their -landlady had named to them as a landmark.</p> - -<p>“This must be the road she told us to take -across the fields,” said Babe, pointing to a -grassy track that turned off the highroad toward -the sea.</p> - -<p>“I should call that a path, not a road,” -Madeline objected.</p> - -<p>“I’ll go ahead and see if there’s any other -turning,” suggested Betty.</p> - -<p>There didn’t seem to be any, so they took<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</span> -the grassy path—or tried to. A little way -down it were some bars, and when they went -through them into the pasture an old black -cow rushed out from a clump of bushes and -ran at them fiercely with her head down.</p> - -<p>Betty and Babbie screamed in terror and -scrambled back to the safe side of the fence; -Madeline followed them more deliberately, -and even Babe, the bold and fearless explorer -of cow-pastures, finally climbed to the top of -the fence, where she sat astride the highest -board to await developments. The cow -watched the retreat with interest and after a -few minutes wandered idly off to the grassy -spot where the rest of the herd were grazing.</p> - -<p>“Come on,” said Babe encouragingly, when -the cow’s back was safely turned. “She won’t -come at us again, I’m sure. If she does, I’ll -protect you. Hurry up, Madeline. We’ve got -to find the castle and get back in time for the -strawberry tartlets.”</p> - -<p>So first Babe climbed down into the pasture, -then Madeline crawled through the bars, -with Babe after her and Betty bringing up -the rear. But no sooner had Betty pushed -safely through than the old black cow turned<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</span> -her head, discovered what had happened, and -charged as fiercely as before.</p> - -<p>“Oh, dear,” sighed Babe, from her perch -on the fence, “she wouldn’t really hurt us, -I’m sure of it. She’s just curious about us. -Cows are awfully curious animals.”</p> - -<p>“She shows her curiosity in a very peculiar -way,” declared Babbie. “She doesn’t want -us in her pasture—that’s very evident.”</p> - -<p>“Being a loyal Scotch cow, she objects to -an American invasion,” laughed Madeline. -“See her eating away as calmly as if we -didn’t exist. Let’s be awfully quiet getting -through this time and perhaps we can cut -across a corner of the pasture before she discovers -us.”</p> - -<p>But they couldn’t. This time Betty was -the first one to follow the intrepid Babe into -the enemy’s country, and as soon as her head -appeared between the bars the old cow stopped -eating and came toward her. Then Babe had -an idea.</p> - -<p>“It’s your red cap, Betty,” she cried. “Hide -it and see what happens.”</p> - -<p>In nervous haste Betty pulled out her hatpins -and tucked the scarlet tam-o’-shanter out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</span> -of sight under her white sweater. Whereupon -the black cow lowed amiably and -turned her head to nip a tempting tuft of -clover.</p> - -<p>“Well, so that was what she wanted,” said -Babbie indignantly. “I supposed it was all -a myth about cows chasing red, didn’t you, -Babe?”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t know,” said Babe carelessly, -striding through the bushes. “Anyhow, I’m -mighty glad we’re off. We shall never find -your castle at this rate.”</p> - -<p>“Do you know,” said Betty reflectively, -“this is a real story-book country that we’re -in. Even the cows act as they do in story-books.”</p> - -<p>“Well, the roads don’t,” objected Madeline. -“This one has come to a plain, unvarnished -end, as roads and other things have a way of -doing in real life. Why, it’s brought us right -down to the sea!”</p> - -<p>Sure enough, they had come out on a strip -of sandy beach, with a little cluster of bath -houses at one end. A girl was standing in -the door of one of them.</p> - -<p>“Go ask her the way, Madeline,” commanded<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</span> -Babbie. “You’re the only one that -can remember the name of my castle.”</p> - -<p>So Madeline went, and returned with the -news that they had taken the wrong turn at -the cemetery and must go back through the -pasture to the road on the hill.</p> - -<p>“Never,” declared Babe firmly. “That cow -would have a chance to say, ‘I told you so.’ -She was evidently trying to tell us that we -were on the wrong track. Didn’t you say the -castle was near the water? If so, why can’t -we go to it along the shore? It’s a lot prettier -down here.”</p> - -<p>So Madeline interviewed the bath-house -girl again.</p> - -<p>“She was very discouraging about it,” -she announced. “She said it was awfully -rough, with nothing but sheep-trails to -walk on, but we can try it if you all want -to.”</p> - -<p>It was great fun walking on the sheep-trails -close by the edge of the sea, with the gorse -and heather that they had always read about -under their very feet, and the expectation of -seeing the castle as they rounded each headland. -But presently they came to a fence—a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</span> -high, close-meshed wire fence with a strand -of barbed wire on top.</p> - -<p>“Looks as if it was meant to keep people -out, now doesn’t it?” said Babe cheerfully.</p> - -<p>“Come and help me over,” called Babbie, -trying to dig her toes into the wire meshes.</p> - -<p>“Isn’t trespassing a dreadful crime over -here?” asked Betty anxiously, when they had -all succeeded in getting over.</p> - -<p>“Dreadful,” answered Madeline solemnly, -“but the cliffs are too steep to climb, and we -can’t go all the way back to the beach. Besides, -we haven’t any guns. Trespassers are -always supposed to be looking for game, I -think.”</p> - -<p>Part of the way the sheep-trail led so near -to the water’s edge that it made Babbie dizzy, -and once they had to cross a rickety little -wooden bridge over a deep ravine and Betty -got over only by bravely shutting her eyes -and trying to believe Babe’s blithe assertion -that a good fat sheep, like those they saw on -the hillsides, must weigh almost as much as -a smallish girl. But the worst of it was, they -couldn’t find the castle.</p> - -<p>“Lost: one perfectly good ruin, well off<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</span> -tram-lines,” chanted Babbie wearily. “The -cliffs aren’t steep here. Let’s climb up to the -highest point and see if we can’t find a farmhouse -where we can ask our way.”</p> - -<p>But at the same moment that they discovered -the farmhouse they saw the castle—or -rather a thickly wooded point where Babe -was sure it was hidden, so they pushed -straight on without stopping to make inquiries. -A low stone wall separated the -wood from the moorland, and Babe was just -stepping over it, when she stopped and gave -a funny little exclamation.</p> - -<p>“Our Dutchmen,” she said to Madeline. -“They must be the wardens of the castle. -Anyhow they’re camping in the wood.”</p> - -<p>“Can’t we go on?” inquired Babbie anxiously.</p> - -<p>“Of course,” said Madeline with decision. -“Baedeker would have told us if it hadn’t -been open to tourists. Come on, Babbie.”</p> - -<p>The four had climbed the wall and were -walking demurely through the wood, politely -keeping as far as possible from the tent, when -Babbie happened to catch sight of Babe’s and -Madeline’s Dutchmen, who had been lying<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</span> -comfortably on the ground in front of their -tent, and now were sitting up, apparently -quite absorbed in the books they were -reading.</p> - -<p>“Dutchmen indeed!” said Babbie coolly. -“Why, it’s John Morton. Oh, Jackie Morton!” -she raised her voice. “What are you -doing camping out in the enchanted wood of -my castle?”</p> - -<p>At this one of the campers dropped his -book, stared in the direction from which -Babbie’s voice had come, and jumping up -came quickly toward her.</p> - -<p>“Well, this is funny,” he declared, wringing -her hand, “because I was just thinking -about the jolly summer we had up at Sunset -Lake and wishing the same old crowd was -here to tramp over the moors and picnic and -sail and have bully times together.”</p> - -<p>Babbie laughed and introduced him to -Babe, Betty, and Madeline, and he, in his -turn, called to his companion to come and -meet everybody.</p> - -<p>“It’s my tutor—Max Dwight,” he explained -hastily in an aside to Babbie. “He’s just out -of college himself, and he’s a mighty good<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</span> -sort, if he does try to keep me everlastingly -plugging. I say, Babbie, are you through -school yet?”</p> - -<p>“Through college,” Babbie corrected him -with dignity. “We’re all Harding 19—’s.”</p> - -<p>“Gee!” John’s face expressed deep concern. -“I’m scared. Girls frighten me to death anyhow, -and four B. A.’s! Let’s stroll off somewhere -by ourselves and talk.”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense!” laughed Babbie. “College -girls aren’t blue-stockings nowadays. Why -aren’t you a B. A. yourself, John? You were -going to be a junior the year after that summer -in the mountains.”</p> - -<p>John nodded. “I got flunked out of my -class,” he explained carelessly. “I suppose -girls never get into that fix, but plenty of -fellows do,—bright ones at that.”</p> - -<p>“Why, John Morton!” Babbie’s tone was -very scornful. “I didn’t think you were that -kind. Oh, yes, some Harding girls get -flunked out, but none of our crowd would. -We’ve got too much pride.”</p> - -<p>“That’s all very well to say,” John returned -sulkily. “You went to college because -you wanted to, I suppose. I went<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</span> -because my father wanted to and couldn’t, so -he made me. I got as much fun out of it as -I could, and did as little work, and I don’t -care what you think about it.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, you do,” said Babbie coolly. -“You care a lot.” Then she smiled and held -out her hand. “Don’t let’s quarrel this -morning. If you look so glum the girls -will think all I’ve said about your being such -a jolly lot is a fairy-tale. I caught a glimpse -of you in Glasgow, you know, and I wanted -to climb down from the top of a two-story -tram to rush back and speak to you. But -the tram started just then and I couldn’t.”</p> - -<p>John laughed. “Wanting to climb down -from the top of a tram to see a fellow is certainly -a proof of true friendship. We’ll have -our quarrel out some other day.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” Babbie agreed, leading the way -back to the others. “But you’d better settle -your score with Babe and Madeline right -away.”</p> - -<p>“Settle with Babe and Madeline,” repeated -John. “What do you mean?”</p> - -<p>“You’re really even,” Babbie pursued, not -wanting to embarrass John immediately after<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</span> -their reconciliation, “because if you commented -on their stride, they came home and -told Betty and me about meeting some Dutchmen.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I say!” John’s face lighted and then -he blushed, as he recognized Babe and Madeline. -“You were the ones we met on the -parade. I’m very sorry. So few people know -Dutch, and you were sprinting, you know.”</p> - -<p>The girls declared that he was quite excusable, -but Babbie warned him that he wouldn’t -be safe in using even Bengali when Madeline -was around.</p> - -<p>“And I shall have to be careful of you,” -said Madeline. “Where did you learn so -many languages, Mr. Morton?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, dad’s in an importing business with -branches all over the world, and his agents -sometimes come to New York. I like to go -down to the warehouses and talk to them, and -I can manage to say a little in ten different -languages. It’s positively my only accomplishment,” -added John modestly.</p> - -<p>“And now please show us over my castle,” -Babbie demanded.</p> - -<p>“May I ask by what right you claim the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</span> -ownership of Dunstaffnage?” asked Mr. -Dwight laughingly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I wanted a ruin,” explained Babbie, -“and Madeline—Miss Ayres—picked this one -out for me. But I shan’t accept it unless it’s -a perfectly lovely one.”</p> - -<p>“It is, though,” John assured her. “As far -as I know, it can’t be beaten anywhere in -Europe. How did you girls happen to come -in by the back way?”</p> - -<p>“We were glad enough to get here by any -way,” laughed Babe. “Is this the back entrance, -and are you the wardens of it?”</p> - -<p>“No, but we’re the proud possessors of a -permit from the owner to camp on his premises,” -said John. “We got tired of the Oban -hotels, and liked this beech-wood and the -castle so much that we wanted to board near -by. The people at the farm down the road -that you should have come by were willing to -feed us, but hadn’t any extra rooms, so I suggested -a tent—I camped all last summer up -in Canada—and here we are. If you’re going -to be lady of the castle, Babbie, you’ll have to -let us be its lords.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” agreed Babbie, leading the way<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</span> -along a mossy path between the tall beeches. -Presently she gave an exclamation of dismay. -“Oh, but it’s such a very small castle! I -thought it would be big and have a rampart -and a moat.”</p> - -<p>“That’s only the chapel, silly,” John explained. -“The castle is farther on.”</p> - -<p>“A chapel! Oh, what a darling one!” -cried Betty. “I want the chapel for mine, -Babbie. You can have the castle.”</p> - -<p>“I approve your taste, Miss Wales,” said -Mr. Dwight. “I think that little ivy-covered -ruin, hidden among the trees, is lovelier than -any castle. Come inside and see the stones.”</p> - -<p>“Whose graves are they?” asked Betty, -following Mr. Dwight across the broken -threshold.</p> - -<p>“They’re not legibly marked, except this -one. Some of the ancient owners of the castle, -I suppose.”</p> - -<p>“Who did own it?” asked Betty eagerly.</p> - -<p>“The old Scottish kings, first of all. They -held their court here for hundreds of years, -and kept the famous coronation stone here—the -one that’s now in Westminster Abbey—until -the Norwegians got to be too much for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</span> -them and they moved the stone to Scone. -Then the Norwegians took Dunstaffnage, and -after them, their descendants, the Lords of -Argyll and Lorne. In Bruce’s time Alexander -of Argyll and his son John of Lorne were -bitter enemies of the king and almost overthrew -him. But Bruce conquered John in -the Pass of Brander, close by here, and shut -up old Alexander in his own castle. So the -family lost their lands to the crown, though -they lived on here for over a century longer, -and James, Earl of Douglas, met the heads of -the family here and tried to induce them to -join his cause. In more modern times Flora -Macdonald was imprisoned here for helping -bonnie Prince Charlie to outwit his enemies -and escape to France.”</p> - -<p>“How interesting!” said Betty eagerly. -“It just gives you thrills to think that you’re -standing on such historic ground, doesn’t it? -Now I want to see the castle.”</p> - -<p>While Betty and Mr. Dwight had been -talking in the chapel, Babbie had hurried the -others through the wood and around to the -front of the castle where the entrance was.</p> - -<p>“They couldn’t have doorways on the side -toward the sea,” John explained, “because the -enemy would have come in small boats, crept -up through the wood in the dark, and surrounded -them.”</p> - -<p>“We can go inside, can’t we?” asked Babbie -eagerly, and by the time Betty appeared, -Babbie and John were perched on the narrow -ledge that ran almost all the way around the -top of the crumbling castle wall.</p> - -<p>“It’s great!” Babbie cried to the rest, making -a trumpet of her hands. “You can see -ever so far. Come up, all of you!”</p> - -<p>So the rest, who had dropped down on the -grass to rest after their long walk, climbed the -narrow, steep stone stairway and emerged on -the ledge.</p> - -<p class="p2b">As Babbie had said, it was “great” up there. -The castle stood on a promontory at the mouth -of a beautiful loch—which, as the girls had -already discovered on their way up to Oban, -often means simply an arm of the sea, of -which, owing to the irregularity of the coastline, -there are a great many in Scotland. You -could see far up the loch in one direction and -out to the open sea in the other, and in the -background loomed great, mist-shrouded<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</span> -peaks, wild and terrible, with stretches of -lonely moorland in the nearer distance.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<a id="illo2"><img src="images/i_104.jpg" width="400" alt="“COME UP, ALL OF YOU”" -title="" /></a></div> - -<p class="caption">“COME UP, ALL OF YOU”</p> - -<p class="p2">“What is this?” asked Babe, pointing to a -rusty iron standard fastened to the top of the -castle’s sea-wall.</p> - -<p>“That’s a beacon-holder,” Mr. Dwight told -her. “In the good old days of the Border -Wars, this castle used to be a station in the -chain of signal fires. They fastened a bundle -of fagots into that frame and set them on fire, -and the chief in the castle over there on one -of those purple islands, and the clan gathered -on the slope of Ben Cruachan, that highest -peak up at the head of the loch, saw the fire, -and knew what it meant.”</p> - -<p>“What did it mean?” demanded Babe.</p> - -<p>“Different things at different times,” explained -Mr. Dwight, “but generally death -and pillage for somebody.”</p> - -<p>Babbie gave a little sigh of satisfaction. -“How lovely! I accept my castle, Madeline, -with many thanks. I wish it had some rooms -down-stairs to explore, and a dungeon, but it’s -very nice just as it is. It’s so absolutely unspoiled.”</p> - -<p>“It certainly doesn’t look much like that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</span> -dreadful cottage at Ayr,” laughed Betty. -“Did you go to Ayr, Mr. Morton?”</p> - -<p>John nodded. “Silly little place, isn’t it? -I say, Babbie, there is one thing that this castle -lacks. Dwight and I were talking about -it this morning before you came. Don’t you -know what it is?”</p> - -<p>Babbie considered, frowning. “No, I don’t, -and it isn’t nice of you to pick flaws in my -castle, John.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not picking flaws,” retorted John. -“I’m just calling your attention to any little -defects I’ve noticed, so that you won’t accept -your castle in ignorance and live to repent -your rash act later. Can’t any of you guess -what I mean?”</p> - -<p>“I can,” said Madeline promptly. “It -ought to have a ghost. No castle is complete -without one. But are you perfectly sure this -hasn’t any?”</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid it hasn’t,” said John solemnly. -“We’ve been here three nights now, and no -ghost has walked so far. Besides I consulted -the family who live in the farm attached to -the castle, and they stoutly deny the existence -of a ghost.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</span></p> - -<p>“Oh, but that doesn’t prove anything,” declared -Madeline. “Don’t you know that the -lords of the castle and their retainers always -deny the existence of a ghost? They regard -it as a blemish on the property.”</p> - -<p>“How absurd of them,” sighed Babbie. -“Oh, dear, now that you’ve mentioned it, I -do want my castle to have a ghost, and I believe -it has one, too. Who knows about the -history of Dunstaffnage? Wasn’t anybody -ever murdered here, or didn’t some beautiful -lady pine away for love? Those are the most -likely kinds of ghosts, aren’t they, Madeline?”</p> - -<p>Madeline nodded. “When we get back to -Oban, we’ll try to find a history of the castle -and perhaps we can unearth a ghost for you.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Mr. Dwight!” Betty and Mr. Dwight -held a whispered conference, then she turned -to Babbie.</p> - -<p>“We’ve thought of a ghost for you. Her -name is Flora Macdonald. She was imprisoned -here once, because she had tried to help -bonnie Prince Charles to escape, after there -was a price set on his head.”</p> - -<p>“And now she walks in the beech-wood?” -asked Babbie eagerly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</span></p> - -<p>Betty looked questioningly at Mr. Dwight. -“She ought to,” he said laughingly, “since the -fair lady of the castle wishes it. I’ll inquire -more particularly of the farm people and let you -know next time you pay a visit to your domain.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose we ought to be going back now,” -said Babbie regretfully, leaving her comfortable -perch on the castle-wall.</p> - -<p>“I should think so. We’ve forgotten the -strawberry tartlets,” cried Babe in tragic tones. -“It’s half-past twelve now, and our dinner is -at one.”</p> - -<p>“You can’t possibly make it,” said John. -“You’d better stay and have a bite with us at -the farm. It isn’t elegant, but everything -tastes good, and you must be famished.”</p> - -<p>“We are,” sighed Madeline.</p> - -<p>“But we’ve got to go back for our own dinner,” -declared Babe sternly. “Miss MacNish -suggested the tartlets on purpose to please us, -you know, and it wouldn’t be nice of us not -to go back. It’s only three miles by road, Mr. -Morton says, so we ought to be there by a -quarter past one.”</p> - -<p>“You won’t even stop for a drink of milk?” -urged John.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</span></p> - -<p>Babbie shook her head. “It would take -too long. Come and see us, John, and you -too, Mr. Dwight. We’re at Daisybank Villa. -I don’t know the street, but you can ask.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, we’ll find it all right,” John assured -her. “I say, can’t we take some trips together, -or some tramps?”</p> - -<p>“Of course,” Babbie promised him, hurrying -after the others. “We’ll arrange it when -you come.”</p> - -<p>John looked after the party admiringly. -“I like their spirit,” he said to Mr. Dwight, -“going back so as not to disappoint their landlady. -Babbie Hildreth is always like that—just -as fair and square as any fellow you can -name. She’s jolly too—if she did graduate -from college. I say, Dwight, I’m much -obliged to you for giving me the morning off, -and I’ll make up for it this afternoon, sure -enough.”</p> - -<p>Which was such an unprecedentedly docile -attitude on the part of John Morton that his -bewildered tutor hoped Babbie Hildreth and -her friends would continue to stay in Oban -and exercise their beneficent influence.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI<br /> -<span class="smaller">SCOTCH MISTS</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Next</span> day it rained—a dismal, drizzling -sort of rain that acted as if it never meant to -stop.</p> - -<p>“I suppose this is a Scotch mist,” said Babe -dolefully at breakfast. “Of course we ought -to enjoy it, as an experience of real Scotch -weather, but for my part I prefer a good rattling -American rain-storm.”</p> - -<p>“We shouldn’t want to take another long -walk to-day, even if it were pleasant,” said -Betty consolingly. “I shouldn’t at least. -Sprinting home after the strawberry tarts -made me horribly lame.”</p> - -<p>“Me too,” sighed Babbie. “Also it made -a hole in my shoe—the only pair I have that -are right for rough walking.”</p> - -<p>“Let’s put on rain-coats and go hunting a -cobbler,” proposed Madeline.</p> - -<p>“And a history of Dunstaffnage,” added<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</span> -Babbie. “I asked Miss MacNish if there was -a library in Oban and she said no; so we shall -have to find a book-store.”</p> - -<p>“We can buy post-cards too,” put in Betty. -“This is just the right kind of day for writing -letters.”</p> - -<p>So they tramped blithely down the hill and -wandered in more leisurely fashion along -Oban’s one business street.</p> - -<p>“There’s a shoe-shop,” announced Babe -presently. “And it says in the window ‘Repairing -done while you wait.’”</p> - -<p>“Goodie!” exclaimed Madeline. “Then I -shall have my sole patched, too. It’s worn -terribly thin on these stony Scotch roads.”</p> - -<p>The smiling saleswoman showed the girls -into a tiny back room, where Madeline could -sit while she waited “with one shoe off and -one shoe on.” Babbie stayed to keep her -company, and Babe and Betty went off to buy -post-cards, promising to come back before long -with sweet chocolate for the captives.</p> - -<p>“This looks like a book-store,” said Babe, -stopping before a little shop with magazines -in the window. “We might inquire about -the history of Babbie’s castle.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</span></p> - -<p>A severe-looking, heavily bearded old gentleman -came out from a back room to meet them. -No, this was not a book-shop, he explained -gruffly; it was a stationer’s; there were two -book-shops at the other end of the esplanade.</p> - -<p>Just then Betty caught sight of some post-cards. -“Oh, what lovely cards!” she cried. -“Here’s one of Dunollie, and one of Dunstaffnage, -and oh—here’s that lovely gray -beach that we came down to from the black -cow’s pasture. Caernavan Sands is its name. -Doesn’t that sound romantic?”</p> - -<p>“My cairds are hand-teented,” said the old -stationer in broad Scotch. “They are tuppence -ha’ penny each. Not that it mak’s ony -deeference to you, maybe.”</p> - -<p>“Tuppence ha’ penny,” repeated Babe meditatively. -“That’s five cents—cheap enough -for hand-colored ones, I’m sure.”</p> - -<p>Betty picked out the cards she wanted from -the rack, and then noticed more piles behind -the counter.</p> - -<p>“Oh, are there some others back there?” -she asked. “May I see them, please?”</p> - -<p>The old gentleman said something which -Betty mistook for permission to go behind the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</span> -counter and look; but as she started to do so -he barred her way.</p> - -<p>“No, no, madam,” he said sternly. “You -can go wherever you like in your own -country, but in my shop you stay where you -belong.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I beg your pardon,” said Betty meekly. -“I thought you said I might see them. I’m -very, very sorry.”</p> - -<p>“I said I wad bring ye the ones that were -deeferent from those in the rack,” said the -old man, glaring at poor Betty from under -his beetling eyebrows.</p> - -<p>“Let’s not buy his old cards,” muttered -Babe indignantly in Betty’s ear.</p> - -<p>But Betty smiled and shook her head. -“They’re too pretty to lose,” she whispered. -“We should be just spiting ourselves.”</p> - -<p>By this time the old Scotchman seemed to -be a little mollified, and condescended to ask -the girls what trips they had taken from Oban -and to show them some views of Glencoe, a -beautiful mountain pass, and of Iona, the -island where Saint Columba’s church is, both -of which he recommended them to visit. -Babe listened in sulky silence, leaving Betty<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</span> -to answer his questions and thank him for -his advice.</p> - -<p>“Come again, leedies,” he said, as they went -out, and Betty thanked him politely for that, -too.</p> - -<p>“Hateful old thing!” cried Babe, when -they were once more outside. “The idea of -talking that way to us, just because we’re -Americans. What has he got against America, -I should like to know?”</p> - -<p>“Never mind him,” said Betty soothingly. -“His post-cards are perfectly lovely. Now -let’s get the sweet chocolate for those poor -hungry girls.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, what fascinating little cakes,” cried -Babe rapturously, stopping before a pastry-cook’s -window. “Don’t you suppose they’d -rather have those than just ordinary sweet chocolate? -It would be such fun buying them.”</p> - -<p>“It’s fun buying anything over here with -this queer English money,” laughed Betty. -“Doesn’t it seem to you just like toy money, -Babe?”</p> - -<p>Babe nodded. “And when I spend it I -don’t feel as if I were spending real money at -all. It’s the loveliest feeling that whatever<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</span> -you buy doesn’t matter a bit, as long as toy -money will pay for it.”</p> - -<p>“Let’s buy four of the buns and three of the -chocolaty ones and an odd one for you, because -you don’t like chocolate,” said Betty, -returning to the cakes.</p> - -<p>They got back to the shoe-shop, with their -bag of cakes, just in time to find Madeline -tying on her mended shoe.</p> - -<p>“Let’s save the cakes till we get home,” -she proposed. “We can eat them while we’re -reading about Flora Macdonald. Oh, let me -see your post-cards. What beauties! Show -us where they came from, this minute.”</p> - -<p>“All right, only prepare to be insulted if -you go inside,” said Babe, and she told the -story of their experience.</p> - -<p>“Crusty old party, isn’t he?” said Madeline. -“Oh, I know what! I can do a beautiful -English accent. I’ll go in and make him -think I’m English. Then he’ll talk to me -confidentially about America.”</p> - -<p>“But then I shan’t have any cards,” objected -Babbie forlornly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’ll bring you some,” Madeline -promised her. “Wait for me——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</span></p> - -<p>“In that Scotch plaid store over there,” -supplied Babe, who never let an interesting -shop escape her notice.</p> - -<p>There were golf capes in the store, tweed -ulsters—“Just the thing for a Scotch mist,” -said Babbie, shivering in her natty silk rain-coat—beautiful -little kilted suits for small -boys to wear, and best of all, a proprietor -resplendent in full Scotch regalia—kilted skirt, -“golf” stockings, green coat, and the insignia of -his clan dangling from a belt around his waist.</p> - -<p>“Did you ever see anything so gorgeous,” -murmured Babbie under her breath. “These -plaid silk squares will make lovely bags, girls. -I’m going to buy a Macdonald one, in -memory of Flora. I do hope she will turn -out to be the ghost of my castle.”</p> - -<p>So Babbie timidly approached the majestic -figure in plaids, who bowed affably and did -up the silk square as neatly as any ordinary -salesman, talking pleasantly meanwhile about -the rain and the war-ship that had appeared -that morning in the harbor.</p> - -<p>The transaction was barely completed when -Madeline came back, laden with post-cards -and bursting with merriment.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</span></p> - -<p>“I took him in completely,” she said. -“He told me all about you two and how you -acted as if you owned Oban and his shop, and -how the Americans are all millionaires and -are spoiling the town, running about everywhere, -asking senseless questions and not -respecting any one’s privacy.”</p> - -<p>“Wouldn’t he have enjoyed seeing us get over -that chicken-wire fence?” said Babe viciously.</p> - -<p>“And wouldn’t he be wild if he heard -Babbie refer to Dunstaffnage as her castle?” -added Betty.</p> - -<p>“Well, as an impartial person who hasn’t -seen him,” put in Babbie, “I think there’s a -good deal in his ideas. Lots of American -tourists are frights. Wouldn’t you be mad, -if you lived in Ayr, to see them swarming -around the Burns relics and turning the town -into pandemonium every pleasant day all -summer?”</p> - -<p>“I certainly should,” admitted Babe, “but -all the same I wouldn’t be rude about it. I’d -move away.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, but perhaps you couldn’t,” began -Betty seriously. “If you were old, you -know, and your business was there——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</span></p> - -<p>Whereupon the other three burst into peals -of laughter at her earnestness, and couldn’t -sober down even at the prospect of scandalizing -the bookseller as much as they had the -crabbed old stationer. But the bookseller -proved to be a brisk young fellow with an eye -for trade, and no national prejudices. He sold -them two paper-covered guides to the region -around Oban, which, he assured them, would -tell them all about Flora Macdonald, and all -about Dunstaffnage castle as well. He too -had post-cards, and Babe bought some, “on -principle,” she explained, because he was so -very agreeable to Americans.</p> - -<p>After dinner it rained harder than ever, so -the girls gathered in Miss MacNish’s parlor, -the use of which, they had discovered, went -with “lodgings.” They had exhausted the -guide-books, written on most of their post-cards, -decided to go to Iona on the first -pleasant day, if there ever was one, and were -beginning to feel very dull indeed, when -Miss MacNish’s funny little maid appeared to -say that there were two gentlemen down-stairs; -and should she bring them right up?</p> - -<p>“It’s John and Mr. Dwight, of course,” said<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</span> -Babbie gleefully. “Isn’t it jolly of them to -come all this way through the rain to see us?”</p> - -<p>“We got drowned out,” John explained. -“It’s the first rain since we began to camp, -and we found it most horribly wetting. So -we folded our tent like the Arabs, silently -stole with it to the farmer’s barn, and took up -our quarters at the hotel nearest Daisybank -Villa. And here we are.”</p> - -<p>“Wad ye like an early tea for your friends?” -inquired Miss MacNish, smilingly appearing -in the doorway; and Babbie said yes, if it -was perfectly convenient.</p> - -<p>“We were hoping you’d ask us to tea,” confessed -Mr. Dwight laughingly. “We’ve become -horribly bored with each other’s society, -haven’t we, J.?”</p> - -<p>“And we were getting bored with ours,” retorted -Madeline. “A rainy day is a dreadful -strain on the tourist’s temper, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“Well, don’t you think it’s going to clear -up to-morrow?” demanded John anxiously. -“Because if it does, and if Mrs. Hildreth -doesn’t object, we were hoping you’d go on -some sort of excursion with us.”</p> - -<p>“How jolly!” cried Babbie, and suggested<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</span> -Iona. But the men had been there, and John -objected to going anywhere in a crowd.</p> - -<p>“What I meant was to go off somewhere -just as we did that summer in the woods, not -looking for scenery or for storied castles, but -just for a jolly good time and a good tramp—or -a drive if you girls prefer that.”</p> - -<p>Babbie twisted her face into an expression -of puzzled amusement. “Oh, John Morton, -you are so funny,” she gasped. “You mean -you want to forget you’re in Scotland and -pretend you’re in America, so you can go on -a plain American picnic.”</p> - -<p>“I object to plain,” said John promptly. -“I insist on having extra-super eats on any -picnic that I honor with my presence. Stop -laughing, Babbie. I don’t see anything so -funny in wanting to go on a picnic.”</p> - -<p>“Well, probably there isn’t,” admitted Babbie, -“only I never went on one before in Europe, -and I never heard of any one else who -did. But I think it will be great fun.”</p> - -<p>“And that’s what we’re here for,” added -Madeline promptly. “We’re not the kind of -tourists who bore themselves with solid days -of ruins and museums and galleries that they’d<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</span> -never think of visiting if they were in New -York. We hope to improve our minds when -it’s perfectly agreeable, but we’re all against -cramming.”</p> - -<p>“Why, Madeline Ayres,” cried Betty eagerly, -“you know you were the worst crammer -in 19—.”</p> - -<p>“The best, you mean, my child,” Madeline -corrected her. “Well, now that I’m a full-fledged -B. A., I see the error of my ways, and -I am resolved not to cram on the British -museum when we get to it.”</p> - -<p>“Everybody stop disputing,” commanded -Babe, “and decide about the eats.”</p> - -<p>“Let’s cook something,” suggested Madeline. -“I hate cold luncheons.”</p> - -<p>“It’s just the weather for a bacon-bat,” said -Betty.</p> - -<p>“Then let’s have one by all means,” Mr. -Dwight seconded her. “I don’t know what -it is, but it certainly sounds appetizing.”</p> - -<p>“It’s great,” Babe assured him. “You -roast the bacon on sticks, and have rolls and -pickles and things to go with it, and coffee, -of course. We used to have them all winter -in Harding when it wasn’t too snowy.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</span></p> - -<p>“All right,” said John, “a bacon-bat it -shall be. We’ll get the things in the morning -when we start off. Now the next question -is, shall we walk or ride?”</p> - -<p>“Let’s walk,” said Babe. “We’re all crazy -over walking. Unless—would your mother -go if we rode, Babbie?”</p> - -<p>But Mrs. Hildreth, who appeared just then, -having heard from Miss MacNish about the -early tea, said she was sure that even if it -cleared off in the morning it would be too -damp for her idea of a picnic, so it was finally -decided to walk.</p> - -<p>As soon as tea was over, John declared that -he must go. “Got to bone this evening to -make up for taking part of to-morrow morning -off,” he explained, blushing and looking -sheepishly at Mr. Dwight.</p> - -<p>“I’m glad to see that you pay in advance -for your fun, John,” said Mrs. Hildreth. “It’s -the best way.”</p> - -<p>“I guess you’re right, Mrs. Hildreth,” said -John. “Anyhow I’m experimenting on it -just at present. We’ll be here at eleven sharp, -Babbie.”</p> - -<p>Next morning every one of the girls got up<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</span> -long before Daisybank’s breakfast hour to -have a look at the weather. At least it wasn’t -raining, and the sun might come out by eleven.</p> - -<p>“Besides, who cares for the weather?” inquired -Babe calmly, lacing up her heaviest -shoes. “We can’t waste another day moping -around indoors.”</p> - -<p>“We’d better take the ‘last resorts’ though,” -said Betty. “The wood will all be wet.”</p> - -<p>“Lucky mother insisted on bringing two of -them,” said Babbie. “Now we can have one -for the bacon and one for the coffee.”</p> - -<p>The sun wasn’t shining at eleven; indeed -the sky was very gray, and John and Mr. -Dwight looked dubious as they turned in -at Daisybank Villa. But they were pleasantly -disappointed at finding the four girls arrayed -in sweaters and tam-o’-shanters, all ready to -start.</p> - -<p>“We’ve bought the lunch, too,” explained -Babe, thrusting a bulky parcel into John’s -arms. “We thought we shouldn’t have any -too much time to get well out into the country -before it was time to eat.”</p> - -<p>When they had gone about two miles across -the moors, John, who was ahead with Betty,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</span> -stopped short. “Did you make it a bacon-bat?” -he demanded anxiously.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” answered Betty.</p> - -<p>“Weren’t we elected to make it that?” -asked Madeline.</p> - -<p>“Then we shall starve,” declared John -tragically. “Look at your skirts. How are -we going to make a fire with everything dripping -wet like this?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, is that your trouble!” Babe gave a -sigh of relief, which the others echoed. “Why, -we’ve brought the ‘last resorts’ along. You -don’t know what they are, do you? It’s private -Harding slang. Let’s camp on the top -of that lovely steep cliff, with the purple -heather on top of it, and then we’ll show you -about ‘last resorts.’”</p> - -<p>So they settled themselves on the rocks, -Babe produced the two chafing-dish lamps, -and a flask of alcohol from somewhere inside -her sweater,—she and Bob always tucked -things away in mysterious places to leave their -hands free,—and Mr. Dwight obligingly held -the coffee-pot over one lamp, while Babbie -arranged the table on a flat rock, and the rest -threaded thin slices of bacon on to pointed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</span> -sticks and squabbled merrily for a chance to -hold them near the flame of the other lamp. -Miss MacNish had given them scones instead -of rolls, and raspberry tartlets for dessert, so -it wasn’t quite an American picnic after all. -But it was a perfectly satisfactory one, John -declared.</p> - -<p>“Are all Harding girls like your crowd?” -he asked Babe on the way home.</p> - -<p>Babe considered laughingly. “How do you -mean?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, jolly, and up to things, not minding -if you get your skirts wet going ’cross -country, and knowing about ‘last resorts,’ -and all that.”</p> - -<p>“Well, of course we always thought we were -a little jollier than any other crowd,” Babe -explained modestly. “We called ourselves -‘The Merry Hearts,’ you know, and we had -all the fun there was going, I guess—especially -Bob Parker and Babbie and I.”</p> - -<p>John’s face darkened suddenly. “I thought -from something Babbie said—did you go in -hard for honors and all that?”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t,” said Babe sturdily. “I just -managed to keep along. I’m not a bit clever,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</span> -you see, but the others are—except Betty, perhaps, -and she was always right up in her work. -Helen Adams and Madeline were prods. in -lit. and themes, and Eleanor Watson was -fine in everything after she settled down to -work. Babbie was the brightest kind of a star -in the languages, and Bob and K. Kittredge -were in all the scientific societies. Oh, and -Roberta Lewis was a wonderful actress and -Rachel Morrison was considered the best all-around -student in 19—. Everybody but me -was in Clio or Dramatic Club.”</p> - -<p>“I think you were wise to stay out,” said -John carelessly. “I don’t believe in killing -yourself with work, just for a few empty -honors.”</p> - -<p>“Empty honors!” Babe’s brown eyes -flashed. “Do you think honors are empty -in a girl’s college? I should like to have -been a star too, I can tell you. I never got -a condition, but once I was warned and I -had several low-grades. I was just awfully -ashamed of them. I hate messing things.” -Babe paused, suddenly remembering that -Babbie had said vaguely that Mr. Dwight -was coaching John Morton for some examinations,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</span> -and that John had spoken of having -work to do. “I hope I haven’t hurt your -feelings,” she murmured. “Babbie said you -were studying—you said—well, anyhow I -never thought that maybe you’d flunked some -courses. I’m sorry. Call it quits for what -you said about my walk, won’t you?”</p> - -<p>“I thought you were even for that already. -How about having thought I was a Dutchman?”</p> - -<p>“I never,” said Babe laughingly. “That -was Madeline. I’ve never seen a Dutchman -that I know of, so I couldn’t think either -way.”</p> - -<p>“All right then. Anyhow I don’t mind -your saying what you think. Yes, I did -flunk—got to do senior year over again. -You see I went with a crowd of fellows who -were just there for the fun of it, and I got -careless and began coaching too late. I believe -you’re right about messing things.”</p> - -<p>“John, Miss Hildreth wants to see her -castle by moonlight,” called Mr. Dwight. -“Do you think we could arrange it?”</p> - -<p>“Why, there’s nothing to hinder if the -moon’s willing—she is, isn’t she? Unless<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</span> -Mrs. Hildreth objects, at least. We could -drive out right after tea, or we could drive -out in the afternoon and have tea there. -What do you say, Babbie?”</p> - -<p>Babbie refused to be interested in tea. -“I’m hoping my ghost will walk,” she explained. -“I don’t think you gave her a fair -trial. Ghosts prefer to walk by moonlight; -it’s so much more becoming.”</p> - -<p>“We’ll go day after to-morrow,” said -Mr. Dwight. “That’s the night for a full -moon.”</p> - -<p>“And we’ll give the ghost the fairest kind -of a fair trial,” added Madeline, and immediately -engaged in a low-toned conversation -with Mr. Dwight, who was convulsed with -merriment at something she told him. The -two kept quite by themselves all the rest of -the way home, and when Babe demanded to -know the joke, they only smiled mysteriously -and said it would take too long to explain.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII<br /> -<span class="smaller">THE GHOST OF DUNSTAFFNAGE</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Will</span> I chaperon a moonlight expedition -to your castle? Babbie dear, what mad -scheme will you think of next?”</p> - -<p>Babbie gave her mother a loving little hug. -“I didn’t think of it all by myself—we all -thought of it together, including John and -Mr. Dwight. Isn’t it a nice idea, mummie? -Aren’t you crazy to see your daughter’s castle -by the witching light of the full moon?”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hildreth laughed and hugged Babbie. -“I certainly am. It’s extremely interesting -to have a castle in the family. You’re sure -you’re not finding Oban dull, girls? I’m -quite rested now from the voyage, and we -can go on to London and Paris as fast as -you like.”</p> - -<p>“Oban dull!” echoed four amazed voices.</p> - -<p>“Why, mummie, it’s perfectly splendid!” -Babbie explained eagerly. “You must come -with us this morning and see the cottages<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</span> -back behind the hill—they’re just smothered -in honeysuckle. And yesterday we found -where the shooting that we hear so often -comes from. There’s a target back there, and -funny little soldiers in plaids—think of fighting -real battles in kilts, mummie!—shoot at it -every afternoon.”</p> - -<p>“And Sunday Mr. MacNish is going to -take us to a Gaelic service at the Free Kirk,” -put in Betty. “He’s lent Madeline a Gaelic -primer, so she can learn to say good-morning -to the people at the church in their own old-time -language.”</p> - -<p>“This is an open day for Fingal’s castle,” -suggested Madeline. “Mrs. Hildreth ought -to see that, so she can compare it with yours, -Babbie.”</p> - -<p>“Come on, dear. Get your hat this very -minute,” Babbie commanded. “When you’re -traveling with four B. A.’s you can’t waste -time.”</p> - -<p>“‘B. A.’s Abroad’—wouldn’t that be a nice -title for the journal Madeline is keeping for -us?” suggested Babe. “It’s so—so—what -do you call a thing that sounds like that?”</p> - -<p>“Alliterative,” answered Betty promptly.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</span> -“I looked up that word in the fall of freshman -year because Mary Brooks said it about -Katherine Kittredge of Kankakee.”</p> - -<p>“But if we have that title,” objected -Babbie, “we shall have to live up to it. I -read over the Glasgow chapter last evening, -and it sounds pretty frivolous for B. A.’s.”</p> - -<p>“Frivolous!” sighed Madeline, “when I -put in all Babe’s lofty sentiments about the -poetry of Burns, and a whole paragraph on -our interest in Gothic architecture. Besides, -why shouldn’t we be frivolous now and then? -Nobody can accuse us of not seeing what’s to -be seen, and think how industriously we’ve -read up on Flora Macdonald.”</p> - -<p>“For fun,” objected Babe.</p> - -<p>“If you can make play out of work you’ve -learned the art of true happiness,” declared -Madeline. “Isn’t that the gospel of Bohemia -and of Harding, as I’ve been expounding it -for four long and weary years? By the way, -Mr. Dwight said he might be up this afternoon, -so I suppose I’d better not go out until -later.”</p> - -<p>“You and Mr. Dwight are getting awfully -chummy,” said Babe. But it was no fun<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</span> -teasing Madeline about men, because she -never cared enough even to listen to what -one was saying. Now she answered coolly -that it was lucky Mr. Dwight hadn’t made -his announcement more general, since it had -turned out to be such a perfect afternoon for -a walk. After the rest were safely out of the -way she went to find Miss MacNish, who -looked very much amazed when Madeline -explained what articles she wanted, but got -them for her all the same, and helped her do -them up into a neat parcel, which Mr. Dwight -smuggled out through the garden just as the -others were coming in by the front gate.</p> - -<p>At four o’clock the next afternoon John -drew up the finest pair of horses to be hired -in Oban with a grand flourish in front of -Daisybank Villa, and Mr. Dwight helped -Mrs. Hildreth and the girls to climb into the -high seats of the trap, while Miss MacNish -stowed away a tea-basket and all sorts of -inviting looking boxes and bundles under -their feet.</p> - -<p>“Do ye ken that all American lassies -are like these?” she asked her little maid, -as they stood at the gate waving a farewell<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</span> -to the picnickers. “They’re verra nice lodgers—but -they do take some crazy notions,” -she added grimly, remembering Madeline’s -confidence of the afternoon before.</p> - -<p>“I’m glad we have plenty of time to-day,” -said Babbie, with a little sigh of satisfaction, -when, after a brisk drive, they drew up in -the castle yard. “I want to go all through -the beech-wood, and climb down the cliffs -to the edge of the water, and sit on the -parapet and imagine that I’m a Norwegian -princess waiting for her lover who’s coming -from across the sea in a little boat with a -white sail.”</p> - -<p>“Goodness, how romantic!” sniffed Babe. -“Where are we going to have tea?”</p> - -<p>“Mrs. Hildreth, you decide that,” said John. -“When you’ve chosen a spot we’ll pile the -baskets and things near it, and then I’m -going back to the farm to get an armful of -wood for the signal-fire. Your forest is too -well kept, Babbie. There are no twigs on -the ground for the convenience of the ship-wrecked -mariner who wants to signal the -nearest dwelling for help. It’s a shame.”</p> - -<p>“Miss Ayres and I will get your wood,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</span> -suggested Mr. Dwight. “I’ve promised to -take her to the farm to see if any of the -family knows how to speak Gaelic.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” agreed John. “I’m not a bit -keen for carrying wood. Be sure you bring -enough, though; we want a rattling big signal, -you know. Now Mrs. Hildreth, let me show -you the chapel.”</p> - -<p>It was a delightful go-as-you-please picnic. -Babe went wading in a pool after sea-anemones. -Betty lay on a sunny slope dreaming -of all the good times she had been having -and was going to have all summer. Madeline -and Mr. Dwight sat on the parapet and -quarreled amicably over the right way to -“lay” a signal-fire. Babbie and John conducted -Mrs. Hildreth over the castle domain, -and when she was tired they decorated -the tea-table—a slab of rock on a sunny -slope by the sea—with sprays of white -heather, which is supposed always to bring -good luck to those who wear it. After tea -they all sat together watching the sunset, -while Madeline told them a quaint folk-tale -that an old grannie at the farmhouse had -told her, all about ghosts and fairies and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</span> -gnomes who lived on the islands in the -firth.</p> - -<p>“She wouldn’t answer when we asked her -about a ghost for this castle,” Madeline added -solemnly. “She just shook her head and -muttered something about ‘trailing white -robes.’ Just then her daughter came in with -the wood, and the old woman shut up like a -clam. The daughter thinks Gaelic and ghosts -are all rubbish.” Madeline stood up. “It -must be lovely on the parapet now.”</p> - -<p>“It’s lovely here,” said Babe dreamily, and -the party broke up again.</p> - -<p>So it happened that Babe, who was the last -to leave the shadowy beech-wood, was alone -down by the little chapel when she saw the -ghost. It was quite across the wood by the -wall, when she first noticed it, and in the dusk -she thought of course it was Babbie, who was -wearing a white serge suit and a big white -hat.</p> - -<p>“Aren’t you coming to watch the moon rise -with the others?” Babe called to her. But -the figure didn’t answer, only came slowly -nearer, groping its way uncertainly among the -tree trunks. Presently Babe noticed that the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</span> -white dress it wore hung in long, loose folds -around it, quite differently from Babbie’s suit, -that it was much taller than she, and that it -carried something dark in one outstretched -hand.</p> - -<p>“It’s a trick of the others. They know I’m -here alone, and they’ve sent Madeline down -to scare me,” Babe reflected indignantly.</p> - -<p>“I know you now, Miss Madeline Ghost,” -she called across to the figure, “so you may -as well take off that white shawl of Mrs. Hildreth’s -and come with me to the parapet to -see the moon rise.”</p> - -<p>The ghostly figure was quite near now, but -if it was Madeline it had no intention of letting -Babe know it. It came on silently to -within a few paces of where she stood waiting, -and then suddenly and without warning a -pitiful little moaning cry broke the stillness -of the wood,—a sound like the stifled, smothered -sobbing of some one in terrible anguish.</p> - -<p>Babe listened for a minute to the gruesome -moaning. Then, “Oh, I say, that’s too much,” -she protested indignantly. “You’re giving -me the creeps, Madeline Ayres, honestly you -are. Please stop.” There was real terror in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</span> -Babe’s appeal, but the ghost paid no heed. -The moaning went on softly, incessantly, just -as before.</p> - -<p>Babe hesitated a moment longer, and then, -pocketing her pride, she fled up the path to -the castle. Out of the wood she ran, across -the grassy slope, and up the winding stone -stairs, as if she thought the ghost was close -behind her. Near the top of the flight she -paused for breath. “Don’t care if they did -see me,” she muttered angrily, brushing the -hair out of her face and assuring herself that -the ghost had not followed. “It’s a mean trick -to scare any one like that. It’s dangerous, -really it is.” But they hadn’t seen her mad -race through the wood. Apparently they -hadn’t even missed her. They were all, the -whole six of them, Madeline included, gathered -in an eager group around the signal-fire, -which wouldn’t burn, in spite of John’s most -valiant efforts, because the wind was so strong.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Babe, was there any alcohol left?” -asked Madeline, glancing up as Babe came toward -them. She was stooping in front of the -beacon-holder, with her skirt spread out to -shelter the struggling little flame. “I don’t<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</span> -think there could be any harm in pouring a -little on this wood, do you, Mrs. Hildreth?” -she went on. “There’s nothing up here to -take fire.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t remember noticing about the alcohol,” -answered Babe, making a valiant effort -not to catch her breath.</p> - -<p>“I’ll go and look,” volunteered Betty.</p> - -<p>“No, let me.” John sprang forward.</p> - -<p>“You’d never find the flask,” objected Betty, -“or if you did you’d mix up everything in -the tea-basket.”</p> - -<p>“Then we’ll go together,” said John, and -Babe breathed a sigh of relief. She couldn’t -have let Betty go back there alone without -warning her and she hated to admit that she -had been frightened by—what could it have -been anyway, since it wasn’t Madeline in Mrs. -Hildreth’s white shawl? Mrs. Hildreth had -on her shawl at that very moment.</p> - -<p>Betty and John were gone some time, and -when they finally appeared Babe knew at once -that they had seen the lady in white.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Babbie,” Betty began tremulously, -“there is a ghost attached to your castle—or -at least a something. It’s down in the edge<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</span> -of the wood, near the lawn where we left the -basket. And it’s moaning in the most horrible -way.”</p> - -<p>“Truly?” Babbie appealed to John.</p> - -<p>“Sure. It’s not a ghost, of course, but it’s -somebody all right, in a long white cloak sort -of thing, with one hand stretched out, holding -something red. The way it cries is -certainly spooky,” added John, with a forced -laugh.</p> - -<p>Madeline exchanged swift glances with Mr. -Dwight. “‘A trailing white robe and a sob -in the night’—that was what the old crone -said, wasn’t it? And there was nothing there -when you came up, Babe?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I saw it,” said Babe with careful unconcern, -“but of course it can’t be a ghost—nobody -believes in ghosts nowadays. I -thought it was one of you girls trying to -frighten me.”</p> - -<p>“Maybe it’s a white cow,” suggested Babbie. -“They make queer noises sometimes. Don’t -you remember that the fierce black one did?”</p> - -<p>But this suggestion was received with great -contempt by all three of the ghost-seers, who -declared excitedly that they could tell the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</span> -difference between a cow and a woman, even -if it was a little dusky in the wood.</p> - -<p>“Well, of course I don’t want it to turn -out to be a cow,” Babbie explained apologetically. -“But it seems too good to be true -that it’s a ghost. I’m going down to find it -this very minute.”</p> - -<p>“Alone?” inquired Babe gravely.</p> - -<p>“No, indeed,” interposed Mrs. Hildreth -promptly, when Madeline pointed down to -the open lawn below them.</p> - -<p>“You don’t need to go down, Babbie. Look -there.”</p> - -<p>The white figure was coming slowly, silently -out from behind a clump of tall bushes. The -moon had risen above the trees, and shone -full on the little lawn in front of the castle, -making it almost as bright as day. Slowly, -silently the white figure came forward, trailing -its robe over the short grass, one hand -held aloft, its gaze fastened on what the hand -held—a bright bit of cloth, it seemed to be. -When it had reached the centre of the lawn, -the figure paused and throwing back its head, -so that the moonlight fell full on its face—the -sweet, sad face of a young girl—it began<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</span> -the uncanny moaning that had sent Babe -flying to find her friends.</p> - -<p>“Gaelic,” whispered Madeline under her -breath. “I heard the words for love and -grief.”</p> - -<p>“She’s changed to English now,” whispered -Mr. Dwight after a minute. “She’s crying, -‘My prince, my prince, my prince,’ over and -over.”</p> - -<p>“What’s that in her hand?” asked Babe, -who was clinging tight to Betty.</p> - -<p>“It’s a bit of Scotch plaid, isn’t it?” Babbie -answered. “That pretty red kind——”</p> - -<p>“The royal Stuart,” supplied Madeline.</p> - -<p>“Then it is Flora Macdonald.” In her excitement -Babbie forgot to speak low. “And -she’s kept a bit of the Stuart plaid in memory -of the prince whose life she saved. She was -in love with him, of course, and she got him -off to France, and he forgot her. And they -locked her up here right afterward, when she -was feeling the worst about having him gone. -Oh, it all fits in beautifully! How can you -help believing in ghosts after this?”</p> - -<p>“How, indeed?” agreed Madeline drily. -“Oh, ghost!” She raised her voice. “Come<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</span> -up on the turret of yon gray donjon, and help -us toast marshmallows in the blaze of the -beacon light.”</p> - -<p>“Madeline!” chorused three indignant -voices, while John burst into peals of laughter -and Mrs. Hildreth, who had been let into -Madeline’s secret, reproached the girls for -having been so gullible.</p> - -<p>“Though it was a very effective ghost,” she -admitted, “and Madeline’s awe-struck face, as -she repeated the old woman’s description, was -capital.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t blame it all on me,” protested Madeline. -“Mr. Dwight is a fellow conspirator.”</p> - -<p>“But you thought of it,” Mr. Dwight reminded -her, “and you planned where we -should get a ghost, and you coached her for the -part. I only smuggled out the costume, consisting -of a pair of Miss MacNish’s best linen -sheets, and introduced Miss Ayres and the -ghost down at the farmhouse. Here she is, -by the way. Miss MacBrague, come and meet -your admiring audience and receive their congratulations. -You took everybody in.”</p> - -<p>Then there were introductions, explanations, -and questions all at once. Madeline<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</span> -had to tell how she had thought of evoking a -spectre to complete Babbie’s castle, but knew -she should be discovered at once if she or any -one else in the picnic-party was missing when -the ghost appeared. Mr. Dwight had suggested -Miss MacBrague, who lived down the -road with her grandparents, and was interested -in the old folk-tales of the countryside. -Miss MacBrague apologized prettily for her -performance.</p> - -<p>“I dinna go to the play,” she said. “I -havena seen the great actors as ye have. I -did only just as Miss Ayres showed me, and -the crying is like the crying that the old -people do at the graves. I am verra glad if -it pleased ye, and I hope ye were na really -frighted,” turning to Babe.</p> - -<p>“You ought to go on the stage. You’re a -perfectly splendid actress,” Babe declared -fervently. “But it’s mean of you to oblige -me to confess how I ran away from you.”</p> - -<p>And then there were more questions and -explanations, and the laugh was on Babe.</p> - -<p>Between times they had toasted all the -marshmallows, though Babbie protested that -it was taking a mean advantage of her beacon-holder<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</span> -to turn it to such base uses; and at -last Mrs. Hildreth said it was time to start -back. They dropped little Miss MacBrague -at her home after having received her thanks -for “th’ gae good time ye’ve given me,” and -made her promise to come and see them in -Oban, and drove briskly home, for the sky -had clouded over, and the air was full of rain.</p> - -<p>“Never mind,” said Babbie jubilantly. -“I can feel the curl walking out of my -feather, but who cares for a little thing like -that? Never as long as I live shall I forget -the lovely, thrilly, creepy feeling that came -over me when I saw my very own ghost -walking out of the beech-wood in the moonlight.”</p> - -<p>“I say, that was rather fine, wasn’t it?” -said John. “You girls are certainly keeping -out of the rut of ordinary European travel.”</p> - -<p>“That’s because we have dominant interests,” -explained Madeline. “Mine is tea-rooms, -Babbie’s is evidently ghosts, and -Babe’s is—let me see—chimney-pots.”</p> - -<p>“I’m going to change,” Babe protested in -the general laugh that followed. “I chose in -too much of a hurry. I want an interest<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</span> -that you can follow up. You can’t follow up -chimney-pots. They’re all right there on the -surface.”</p> - -<p>“On the roofs, you mean,” laughed John, -“and only chimney-sweeps can penetrate their -inner mysteries. What’s your specialty, Miss -Wales?”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t any yet,” explained Betty. -“I’m hoping mine will turn up before long, -though.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, we’ll find you something in London,” -Madeline promised her easily. “There is -something for everybody in London.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII<br /> -<span class="smaller">BETTY DISCOVERS HER SPECIALTY</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Staying</span> in lodgings in a villa by the sea -is awfully English, but so are a lot of other -things,” said Madeline briskly. “We’ve seen -about all there is to see in this neighborhood, -and I think we ought to be pushing on.”</p> - -<p>It was nearly a week after the ghost party. -The girls had spent the two really pleasant -days in visiting Glencoe and Iona, both of -which were so lovely that Betty had insisted -upon calling on the crusty old stationer to -thank him for suggesting them. Now they -were gathered in the sitting-room, Baedekers -in hand, holding a conclave on where to go -next.</p> - -<p>“Oh, dear!” sighed Babe. “It’s been so -jolly here! I wish we could settle down for -all summer. But of course I know it would -be silly to come way across the ocean and then -just stick in one spot.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</span></p> - -<p>“John’s not going to stay all summer, -Babe,” said Babbie pointedly, for during the -week the friendship between the man-hater -and the woman-hater had progressed marvelously.</p> - -<p>“Isn’t he?” Babe’s tone was as unconcerned -as if she had not solemnly promised to -furnish John with a dated itinerary of their -trip, and to write him the very minute they -changed their plans.</p> - -<p>“Dwight thinks we ought to stay on here -till he’s finished coaching me,” John had told -her mournfully; “because there are so few -distractions to take a fellow’s mind from his -work. But it will be deadly dull after -you’ve gone.”</p> - -<p>“Have you a lot more to do?” Babe had -asked.</p> - -<p>“No. If I boned hard, I think I could -finish in two weeks.”</p> - -<p>“Then why in the world don’t you bone -hard?” demanded Babe bluntly. “Then you -can do as you please all the rest of the -summer, can’t you?”</p> - -<p>John nodded. “After he gets me off his -hands, Dwight’s going to study at the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</span> -British Museum and then at some big library -in Paris. He’s getting material for his -doctor’s thesis. I’m going to keep with him -for a while and then join the governor somewhere -and go home with him in time to start -in at the same old grind next fall. I don’t -envy myself the trip across, either,” sighed -John.</p> - -<p>“Why not?” demanded Babe. “You -ought to like traveling with your father.”</p> - -<p>John shrugged his shoulders. “He’ll be in -the very dickens of a temper by that time. -You see he’s been sent over here by his doctor -for a long vacation, and he’s raging around -Europe in his automobile, getting madder and -madder every minute, because he’s on strict -orders to do nothing but loaf, and he doesn’t -dare to disobey instructions.”</p> - -<p>“He’ll like it when he gets started,” suggested -Babe, soothingly.</p> - -<p>“Never,” laughed John. “You don’t know -my father. The very mention of a vacation -affects him just the way Miss Wales’s red cap -did that old Scotch cow. You ought to see -the letters he writes me. They get fiercer and -fiercer each time.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</span></p> - -<p>“Well, if he’s that kind it will please him -to know that you’re working hard. So I advise -you all the more to pitch in and hustle -through,” Babe had finished, forcibly if not -elegantly. “Give yourself two weeks—or -three, to be perfectly safe—and then dare -yourself to finish.”</p> - -<p>“If I did that, I’d probably want to go sailing -all the time, or I’d dawdle over an exciting -novel and forget all about my limit.”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t much use for a person who dares -himself and then loses,” said Babe coolly. -“Are you that sort?”</p> - -<p>John did not answer at all at the time, but -on the day the girls left Oban he took Babe to -one side. “Meet you anywhere you like three -weeks from day before yesterday,” he announced -gaily.</p> - -<p>“Good for you!” returned Babe. “I’ll -keep you posted.”</p> - -<p>“Here’s a pin to remind you of your promise,” -said John, holding out a stick-pin set -with a Scotch cairngorm. “Girls have such -short memories.”</p> - -<p>“They haven’t any shorter memories than -boys,” declared Babe indignantly. “I’m just<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</span> -as much obliged for the pin, but I don’t -need it.”</p> - -<p>“Take it as a souvenir of Oban, then,” -urged John.</p> - -<p>Babe looked longingly at the sparkling yellow -stone. “Do you take back what you said -about girls’ memories?”</p> - -<p>“Well, perhaps I don’t know much about -the general run of girls,” John qualified. -“Babbie Hildreth remembers her promises all -right, and I’m sure you do.”</p> - -<p>“You’re the one that’s likely not to be able -to keep this particular promise,” said Babe, -pinning the cairngorm into her blue tie, which -showed it off to perfection. “You mustn’t -come, you know, unless you’ve finished your -work. College boys are such dreadful idlers.”</p> - -<p>“They’re not,” declared John hotly. “I’ll -show you that this one isn’t, anyhow.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” laughed Babe. “And I’ll -show you that my memory isn’t short. Then -we shall be quits again.”</p> - -<p>Babe wrote Bob all about the cairngorm pin, -but she didn’t mention it to her traveling -companions. Babbie would think she was -silly to talk about it. She knew such loads<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</span> -of men, and they were always giving her -flowers and pretty trinkets. So merely to -avoid discussion Babe said nothing at all about -the matter, letting the rest think that she had -bought the pin herself as a memento of her -dear Oban.</p> - -<p>“Nothing else will be quite so nice!” she -sighed as the train pulled out of the little station, -and the others all felt a little the same -way,—except Madeline, of course, who always -loved beginnings.</p> - -<p>“Why do we stay at Glasgow to-night?” -she said. “We’ve done that already. Let’s -take Mrs. Hildreth to a farewell tea at Miss -Jelliff’s, and then go on to Balloch. There’s -an inn there with the loveliest name—Tullichewan -Inn. Doesn’t that sound quaint and -out-of-the-way? Then we shall be one station -further on toward the Trossachs, and we shan’t -have to get up so early in the morning.”</p> - -<p>“That argument appeals to me,” laughed -Mrs. Hildreth, and it was settled to go on to -Balloch.</p> - -<p>“What are the Trossachs, anyway?” inquired -Betty plaintively. “People have talked -to me about the Trossachs ever since I knew<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</span> -I was coming to Scotland, but when I’ve -asked just what they were, I never could find -out.”</p> - -<p>“This guide-book says that the word means -‘bristling country,’” Babbie explained. “All -the hills that you coach over are thickly -wooded. There are lakes, too, but I guess -they haven’t anything to do with the name.”</p> - -<p>Next day Babe amended the definition to -“dripping country.” Scotch mists alternated -with unmistakable showers all day, the hills -were hidden behind thick mantles of gray -fog, and the picturesque little lakes looked -forlorn enough, with the big rain-drops pattering -down on their placid waters.</p> - -<p>“Catechism for travelers,” announced Babe. -“Query one: How do you go through the -Trossachs? Answer: In a rain. I know -what you’re going to say, Betty, but I’ve talked -to all the people on board who’ve been through -before or who’ve had friends who’ve been -through, and that’s the correct answer. -Query two: What is a Trossach coach? -Answer: A place where everybody’s umbrella -drips on everybody else and pokes your hat -off, and you wish you were snug at home by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</span> -the fire. Besides, they aren’t coaches at all; -they’re nothing but four-seated mountain-wagons. -And I thought coaching was going -to be one of the most glorious joys of the -summer!” Babe sighed and carefully emptied -the water out of the wrinkles in her ulster.</p> - -<p>But the coaching trip through the English -lakes satisfied Babe’s most extravagant anticipations. -It came after a commonplace, very -rainy week in Edinburgh, where everybody -was too busy getting over colds caught in the -Trossachs rain-storm to make any progress -with “dominant interests.” It was a lovely, -sparkling morning, and the coach which was -to take them from Keswick to Windermere -was a real coach, with seats inside for any one -who was foolish enough to want them, seats -on top which commanded a splendid view of -the pretty English country, and a red-coated, -red-faced English coachman who dropped his -h’s and cracked his long whip in exactly the -approved story-book fashion. But the most -exciting part of the day came when they -stopped for lunch at the little village of Grasmere.</p> - -<p>“Three whole hours!” cried Babbie joyously.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</span> -“Mother doesn’t feel like exploring, -so she’s going to wait for us at the inn. Have -lunch whenever you’re ready, mummie. If -Wordsworth’s Dove Cottage and the old church -where he’s buried are too fascinating we may -decide to save time by lunching aboard the -coach on fruit and sweet chocolate.”</p> - -<p>“I’m terribly afraid Dove Cottage will be -like Burns’ birthplace,” said Madeline, as -they started off. “Another maxim for travelers: -Be cautious about poets’ homes. Anyhow -Wordsworth never stayed in the house -when he could help it on a day like this—I’m -sure he didn’t. Let’s walk up that fascinating -shady road first. It looks as if it led -to something interesting.”</p> - -<p>“Now Madeline,” protested Betty, “how -does a road that leads to something interesting -look different from one that doesn’t?”</p> - -<p>“How indeed, man from Cook’s?” Babbie -joined her, and the dispute waxed so warm -that finally Madeline asked a little girl, who -was eyeing them shyly over a garden fence, -where this particular road went.</p> - -<p>“Proves my point,” she announced triumphantly. -“It goes to Easdale Tarn.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</span></p> - -<p>“What’s a tarn?” asked Babe. “A lake? -Then it doesn’t prove anything at all. Some -lakes are interesting and some aren’t.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t quarrel, children,” interposed Betty. -“When we get to the tarn we can see whether -it’s interesting.”</p> - -<p>“But who knows how far it is?” objected -Babbie. “Have we time to walk to -it?”</p> - -<p>The small girl had run off to play by this -time, but a little old lady was pottering about -among the flowers in another garden, and she -told the girls that the tarn was only a mile -away and showed them a cross-cut through -the meadows.</p> - -<p>Beyond that the road turned into a path and -climbed up hills, and then down again, but -mostly up, so that following it was hot and -tiresome work.</p> - -<p>“Maybe I’m not hungry,” sighed Babe. -“Do you see that comfortable white farmhouse? -When we go back let’s stop there and -have lunch. They’d surely give us bread and -milk out of pity for our famished state.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” agreed Madeline, “but we’ve -got to hurry right along now.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</span></p> - -<p>Just then the path curved sharply, and -around the turn they came suddenly upon an -elderly gentleman who was sitting on a big -stone, fanning himself with his Panama hat.</p> - -<p>“My word!” he exclaimed, when he saw -the girls. “What in creation are you young -ladies doing away off here?”</p> - -<p>Babbie was ahead. “Going to Easdale -Tarn,” she explained demurely. “This is -the right road, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“Bless me, I don’t know,” said the elderly -gentleman. “Never heard of Easdale Tarn -till you mentioned it. My doctor told me to -take a walk every day, and I chose this road -because I happened to see it.”</p> - -<p>“It’s rather hilly, isn’t it?” said Babe, who -was quite out of breath.</p> - -<p>The gentleman jumped up and waved a -hand at his stone seat. “Sit down and get -rested,” he commanded so peremptorily that -Babe obeyed without a word.</p> - -<p>“You too.” He pointed at Betty, who sank -down beside Babe.</p> - -<p>“I admire your energy,” the old gentleman -went on briskly. “I always admire energy. -But in this case it also excites my curiosity.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</span> -Why are you all so anxious to go to Easdale -Tarn?”</p> - -<p>“To find out if it’s interesting,” explained -Babe, and told the whole story of the dispute -about the road.</p> - -<p>The old gentleman laughed heartily, and -then he sighed. “Wish I could get as excited -as that about this milk-and-water scenery. -Well, run along and find your tarn,—all but -you,” indicating Betty. “You’re too tired to -go any further. You’d better stay right here -with me until the others get back.”</p> - -<p>“I am tired,” admitted Betty, blushing -furiously, “but I think I’d better go on. You -said you were taking a walk, and I don’t want -to keep you——”</p> - -<p>“I said my doctor told me to take walks,” -interposed the old gentleman irascibly. “At -present I am sitting here enjoying the view, -or, to speak quite truthfully, staring at the -view without seeing it, and wishing I were -back in New York.”</p> - -<p>“But Betty wants to see the tarn too,” -urged Babe, who resented such autocratic -methods. “Come on, Betty. You can rest -all the afternoon in the coach.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</span></p> - -<p>Betty half rose, hesitated, and then something -in the rather wistful smile that the old -gentleman gave her from under his bushy -eyebrows made her decide to stay.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid I am too tired to enjoy seeing -anything more, even if it’s interesting,” she -told the girls. “So if you’re sure you won’t -mind waiting, sir—it’s rather lonely here to -stay alone.”</p> - -<p>“I assure you it will be only a pleasure to -wait with you,” declared the old gentleman -with fine, old-fashioned courtesy. “Solitary -walks are a dull sort of amusement.”</p> - -<p>So while the rest went in pursuit of the -tarn Betty talked to the old gentleman. He -was traveling alone, it seemed, for his health, -and he hated traveling, hated doctors, and -despised himself for having let one of them -bundle him off willy-nilly, like a molly-coddle -old woman who had nothing in the -world to do but count her pulse and worry -about her digestion.</p> - -<p>“But don’t you think you’d get well faster -if you just made up your mind to it and tried -to enjoy things and have a good time?” -asked Betty timidly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</span></p> - -<p>“That’s what they all say,” retorted the old -gentleman savagely. “‘Make up your mind -to it. Why, you ought to consider yourself a -lucky dog to be able to go off like this, chasing -health around the world, if necessary. -How we envy you!’ Envy! Well, they -needn’t.” He smiled his wistful smile again. -“Fact is, when I was young, I hadn’t any -chance to play—I was too busy hustling to -pay for bread and butter and an attic room. -Now I’m too old to learn. But I like to see -young people play well, if they work well too. -I’ve got a boy—the young rascal—oh, well, -you don’t want to hear me scold about my -boy. Tell me where you’ve been and where -you’re going and why it is that you like your -Europe so well.”</p> - -<p>So he led Betty on to tell him about the going-away -party at Mary’s, about the senator -and the emigrants and the ghost of Dunstaffnage; -and they had gotten back to the United -States and Harding College again, before the -others appeared.</p> - -<p>“My dear, I appreciate your staying to talk -with me,” he said finally. “I had a daughter -once, but she died. I should like her to have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</span> -grown up to be like you,—or like that little -tomboy that stood up to me and insisted you -should go on if you pleased. I couldn’t get -her for a private secretary next fall, could I? -She wouldn’t cry if I happened to find fault -with the way she took my dictation.”</p> - -<p>Just then Babe herself appeared, leading -the others.</p> - -<p>“We didn’t find it,” she sang out cheerfully. -“That old lady’s idea of a mile is exaggerated.”</p> - -<p>“We didn’t dare go any further for fear of -missing the coach and worrying mummie,” -added Babbie.</p> - -<p>“In a hurry to get back to the village, -are you?” asked the old gentleman. “I’ve -got a car waiting for me somewhere down -there at the foot of the hill. You can all -squeeze in for that little distance, can’t you?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, thank you,” said Babe, “but we were -going to have lunch first—bread and milk at -the farmhouse near the foot of the hill, if -they’ll give it to us. We’ve allowed time -for that, and we’re just perishing of hunger. -Thank you just as much about the ride.”</p> - -<p>“Bread and milk at a farmhouse,” repeated<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</span> -the old gentleman briskly. “I—I believe -I’m hungry too. Would it be intrusive——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, please do come,” said Betty eagerly. -“I’ve made you miss your lunch at the inn, -I’m afraid.”</p> - -<p>So the old gentleman scrambled down the -hill with Betty and Babe, while Madeline -and Babbie ran ahead to make sure of the -luncheon and get the preparations for it under -way. The bread and butter was so good and -the milk so creamy, and they all ate and -drank so much, while the old gentleman -forgot to be annoyed at his unhappy plight -and told funny stories of his motoring experiences -in France,—neither he nor his -chauffeur, it seemed, knew a word of any -language but English,—that the time slipped -by, and when Babe thought to look at her -watch it was long past the hour that she had -allotted to lunching.</p> - -<p>“There’s Dove Cottage gone!” she announced -in tragic tones. “And when we -get back to America and people ask us about -it, how we shall hate to say we were right -here and didn’t take enough interest in Wordsworth -to hunt up his house.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</span></p> - -<p>“Never mind,” Madeline reassured her -cheerfully. “We’ll just inquire in a casual -way if they saw Easdale Tarn, when they -were here, and that will settle them.”</p> - -<p>“The only trouble is we didn’t see it either,” -matter-of-fact Betty reminded her sadly.</p> - -<p>The old gentleman was looking at his -watch and muttering hasty calculations. -“You shall see your Dove Cottage,” he announced -triumphantly. “You didn’t count -on going back in my car. Come along.”</p> - -<p>The next minute they were tearing down -the Easdale road at a rate that the old gentleman -smilingly characterized as “about our -usual speed, and we’ve only been arrested -once so far.” When they reached the cottage -he sat outside in the car, watch in hand, -ready to give the signal for departure, and -at the church he did the same thing. Then -they whirled back to the inn, where Mrs. -Hildreth was getting a little anxious about -them, though, as Babbie pointed out, five -minutes before the coach started was a whole -lot of time—you could see all the regular -sights of Grasmere in five minutes if you were -a good manager.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</span></p> - -<p>Betty and Babe, who had taken a great -fancy to the crusty old gentleman, stayed -behind the others to say a more extended -good-bye.</p> - -<p>“We’re really very grateful to you,” Babe -assured him gaily. “You’ve saved our reputations. -But for you the Grasmere chapter -of ‘B. A.’s Abroad’ would have had a disgraceful -blank in it.”</p> - -<p>“‘B. A.’s Abroad,’”—the old gentleman -turned to Betty. “That’s the journal you -told me about. B. A.—Benevolent Adventurers—that’s -what you’ve been this morning. -I haven’t had so good a time since I left New -York. Thank you all, and you particularly, -Miss——”</p> - -<p>“Wales,” supplied Betty.</p> - -<p>“Miss Wales, I hope we shall meet again -during the summer. I’m going back to -France, where they have respectable roads. -Good-bye.”</p> - -<p>“You’ve got to look out for Betty, mummie,” -laughed Babbie, when they were settled -again on the coach. “All the high-and-mighty -personages just naturally gravitate -to her. First there was the senator, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</span> -now this grand magnate. Who was he, -Betty?”</p> - -<p>“He didn’t tell me his name, and I didn’t -like to ask.”</p> - -<p>“He’s certainly a person of importance,” -declared Madeline. “He talks about New -York as if he pretty nearly owned it, and -did you notice how frantically the inn servants -flew around when he appeared?”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t fly around when he appeared,” -said Babe proudly, and was much amused -and elated when Betty repeated what he had -said about her.</p> - -<p>“I think benevolent adventures are going -to turn out to be Betty’s dominant interest,” -said Babe, after relating the old gentleman’s -interpretation of B. A. “First there were the -emigrants and now this old gentleman. I -wonder whom you’ll find next to cheer up.”</p> - -<p>Betty laughed. “I think that’s a funny -kind of a dominant interest for traveling. -Why, you can be nice to people just as well -when you’re at home.”</p> - -<p>“Well, you’re elected to try it a while -longer,” declared Babbie, “and see how it -works. It’s certainly been amusing so far.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</span> -The very point about a good dominant interest, -you know, is that it’s queer. Anybody -can take Gothic architecture or Mary Queen -of Scots, but ghosts, tea-rooms, chimney-pots, -and benevolent adventures show real originality. -Girls, aren’t we having a good time?”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX<br /> -<span class="smaller">BUYING A DUKE</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">From</span> the lakes the B. A.’s traveled slowly -and merrily to London, where they established -themselves at a quiet boarding-house -overlooking a pretty square, and plunged into -a mad delirium of sight-seeing and shopping.</p> - -<p>“I never felt pulled in so many directions -in my life,” complained Babe wearily. “The -shop-windows are so fascinating, and things -are all so cheap, and it’s such fun paying for -them in this comical English money.”</p> - -<p>“And your friends will all be so glad to -get whatever you don’t want for yourself because -it came from abroad,” put in Babbie. -“I’m going to do all my Christmas shopping -here and in Paris.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I want to, too,” agreed Babe, “but -all the time I’m in the shops I keep thinking -how the places I’ve wanted to see for ages -and perhaps never can see again are all within<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</span> -a stone’s throw—well, within a ’bus-ride, if -you like that better, and I decide to go sight-seeing -with Madeline. But when you and -Mrs. Hildreth and Betty come home at night -with all your fascinating packages from Liberty’s -and the Irish lace stores, why then I -wish I’d shopped.”</p> - -<p>“You can’t have everything,” said Madeline -sagely. “That’s been my motto for -years, and it’s never so useful as when I’m -traveling. You don’t enjoy anything unless -you make up your mind not to worry about -the things you’ve got to miss. I’m going -shopping myself to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>“I thought you hated it,” exclaimed all her -auditors at once.</p> - -<p>“But this isn’t any ordinary shopping tour. -I’m going to buy Eleanor’s duke—that is, if -the rest of you will trust me to pick him out.”</p> - -<p>“Of course we will,” said Babbie, “but why -can’t we all come, too, and help?”</p> - -<p>“Babbie, you promised me you would stay -quietly at home to-morrow and rest,” Mrs. -Hildreth reminded her.</p> - -<p>“Well, so I will,” Babbie gave up cheerfully. -“And Babe has a luncheon engagement<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</span> -with the friend from home that she -met in the American express office.”</p> - -<p>“Then Betty and I will go duke-hunting,” -said Madeline. “That suits me perfectly. -Too many matchmakers would be fatal. The -duke would detect our eagerness and demand -an exorbitant settlement. Dukes come high, -you know, at best, so be prepared to be generous -with your shillings.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Madeline, do tell us what you’re going -to get,” begged Babbie. But Madeline -only smiled mysteriously and told Mrs. Hildreth -that she and Betty probably shouldn’t -be back for luncheon.</p> - -<p>Next morning when they were safely out of -ear-shot she divulged her idea. “You know -those pretty old Staffordshire china figures? -The spotted dogs are the commonest, but there -are men and women, too. Oh, you must have -seen them, Betty, in the windows of the antique -shops—shepherdesses with looped-up -skirts, leaning on their crooks, and cute little -men with lace ruffles at their wrists and pink -coats and silver knee-buckles. They look -awfully aristocratic; somehow, I don’t think -we could get a better duke.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</span></p> - -<p>Betty hadn’t noticed anything of the sort, -so they went a block out of their way down -Oxford Street to see some in a shop that -Madeline remembered. Sure enough, the window -was full of the queer little china figures, -and there was one that Betty declared was -just the duke for Eleanor.</p> - -<p>“Let’s go right in and get it,” she urged -jubilantly. “It’s so quaint and—oh, so -European somehow. Eleanor will be perfectly -delighted.”</p> - -<p>Madeline laughed at her innocent enthusiasm. -“We can’t afford to buy it here,” -she warned her. “Those figures are dreadfully -expensive. In a fashionable neighborhood -like this they’d probably ask eight or -ten dollars for that duke. But the other day -when Babe and I were riding on a ’bus away -out toward Hammersmith to see how far you -could go for fourpence, I noticed a whole -cluster of antique shops, and I thought we -might find a real bargain out there.”</p> - -<p>“But this is such a pretty, graceful little -figure,” said Betty doubtfully. “How much -are we going to spend for each of the girls?”</p> - -<p>“The gargoyles and the photograph that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</span> -Helen wanted won’t be over sixty cents, so -I suppose we ought to find something at about -that price for the general present to Eleanor -and Bob. Then, of course, we can any of us -take any of them whatever extra things we like.”</p> - -<p>“Let’s just ask about this duke,” urged -Betty, who had lost her heart to the little -china figure, and couldn’t believe it cost as -much as Madeline thought.</p> - -<p>But “Thirty-five shillings,” said the pompous -shop-keeper, and Betty had to explain -blushingly that she couldn’t afford so much -that morning.</p> - -<p>“That’s eight dollars and seventy-five -cents,” she said dejectedly, as they went off -to find the Hammersmith ’bus. “We can’t -ever get one for sixty cents, Madeline. The -neighborhood wouldn’t make eight dollars -difference.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t know,” said Madeline easily. -“I’ve bought silver boxes in Holland for -thirty cents and matched them on Fifth -Avenue for five dollars. Anyhow it will be -fun hunting.”</p> - -<p>It was fun. The Hammersmith shops were -crowded with all sorts of interesting old<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</span> -odds-and-ends, the like of which Betty had -never seen before. She admired the glib way -in which Madeline chatted with the shop-keepers -about strange things like black Wedgwood, -Chippendale chairs, and Flemish inlay. -But when they inquired for Staffordshire -figures no one seemed to have any, or at least -not any that could pass for a duke. But -every one was very obliging about suggesting -more shops to try, and when that particular -neighborhood was quite exhausted some one -sent the girls off on what proved to be a wild -goose chase to the shops near Nottinghill -Gate, “where there isn’t any hill nor any -gate,” as Betty explained later, in relating -the day’s adventures, “so how can you tell -when to get off the ’bus?”</p> - -<p>And as they couldn’t tell, they were -carried six blocks past and had to walk back -in the noonday heat, only to find that the -biggest shop, which had been so highly -recommended, kept nothing but brasses.</p> - -<p>“We’ll go in here,” said Madeline, opening -the door of a dusky little second-hand store -with an impatient jerk, “and if they haven’t -what we want we’ll stop. Yes, no matter if<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</span> -they tell us positively that a shop round the -corner is packed tight with Staffordshire -figures, we won’t go to it. Instead we’ll go -and get a cool and luscious luncheon,—though -where we can find one in this dingy -neighborhood, I’m sure I don’t know.”</p> - -<p>A small girl with wisps of tow-colored hair -falling over her eyes came out from a back -room to see what they wanted.</p> - -<p>She shook her head doubtfully when Madeline -mentioned Staffordshire. “I’m sure I -couldn’t say, ma’am. She’s out—the madame -is—and I couldn’t rightly say what we have. -Would you know it if you saw it? You -might look about then.”</p> - -<p>So they “looked about,” among the curious -agglomeration of mirrors, candlesticks, lustre -jugs, cameos, and time-stained engravings, all -standing in dusty disarray on top of Queen -Anne sideboards, carved centre tables, and -beautiful old Sheraton writing-desks with secret -compartments, that set Betty, who was having -her first taste of the delights of antique-hunting, -wild with delight. But though they -poked into every nook and corner, no -Staffordshire figures came to light.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</span></p> - -<p>“Well, we shall have to give it up,” said -Madeline dejectedly. “How much is that -lustre pitcher, please—the fat little one with -the roses in the border?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know, ma’am,” confessed the little -maid sadly. “You see very few comes here -in the morning, and it’s so very difficult remembering -the prices, ma’am.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, dear!” Madeline wanted the fat little -pitcher all the more now that she couldn’t -have it. “When will the owner of the shop -be back, do you think?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I really couldn’t say, ma’am. In an -hour perhaps, and maybe not till time for tea. -You see it’s Friday, and she’s gone to market. -But she went early to-day, so she might be -back early.”</p> - -<p>“But does it ever take her all day to do the -family marketing?” asked Madeline curiously.</p> - -<p>“Oh, it’s not for the family, ma’am; it’s for -the shop she’s buying. Everybody goes to the -market on Fridays.”</p> - -<p>“Whom do you mean by everybody?”</p> - -<p>“Why, all the dealers in London, ma’am. -The madame buys almost everything there. -Things go very cheap there, you see. It’s a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</span> -pity she didn’t know what you were wanting, -or she’d have found it for you this morning. -You can find almost anything at the market -if you look sharp.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose you couldn’t tell us how to get -there?” inquired Madeline tentatively.</p> - -<p>Oh, yes she could; any one in London could -do that. It was the Caledonian market, you -understand. First you took the Underground -to King’s Cross, and then you took the ’bus to -Market Road, and any one would tell you -where to get down. And after that it was -just a step to the market.</p> - -<p>“What a find!” Madeline caught Betty’s -arm as soon as they were outside, and fairly -danced her down the street. “We shall get -all sorts of bargains in dukes there, and then -it’s such a lovely stunt hunting them along -with all the dealers in London. We’ll buy -some fruit and eat it on the Underground. -Where is the Underground, I wonder? She -said everybody went there Friday mornings. -Should you think it would close at twelve or -at one?”</p> - -<p>Of course Betty hadn’t the least idea. In -fact she couldn’t quite see what there was to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</span> -be so excited about, but as usual she took -Madeline’s word for it.</p> - -<p>“Markets are great,” Madeline explained -when they had at last found the Underground. -“I’ve been to the rag-fair in Rome and the -Christmas-sale in Paris, and they were both -no end of fun. Some one told father about -a big market in London, but he never could -find it. Won’t he be envious when I bring -out my trophies!”</p> - -<p>When they got into the ’bus for Market -Road nearly every other passenger was laden -with a big basket.</p> - -<p>“They’re going to market, too,” Madeline -nudged Betty. “So we’re not hopelessly late -after all.”</p> - -<p>When they had turned in at the big gates -Betty stared about her in amazement. The -vast open space was thronged with a laughing, -chattering crowd of buyers. But above the -noise they made rose the strident cries of the -marketmen.</p> - -<p>“Penny a mar-r-r-ket bunch!”</p> - -<p>“Whatever-you-like at yer own price.”</p> - -<p>“Rusty nails! Rusty na-ils!”</p> - -<p>It took time to disentangle even those few<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</span> -cries from the multitude of strange announcements.</p> - -<p>“Who would want rusty nails?” demanded -Betty.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know, but there they are—pounds -and pounds of them. Somebody must want -them or they wouldn’t be here. Isn’t it fun having -everything spread out on the ground?”</p> - -<p>“Literally everything,” laughed Betty. -“Books and china and second-hand calico -wrappers, and—yes, Madeline, second-hand -tooth-brushes, right next to that lovely inlaid -furniture.”</p> - -<p>“And there’s a Persian kitten,” added -Madeline. “Poor little pussy! She looks -frightened half to death.”</p> - -<p>“And hats and furs,” put in Betty.</p> - -<p>“And jewelry. Betty, I’ll buy you a penny -pin as a memento. Choose.”</p> - -<p>Betty chose a brooch consisting of a very -realistic red raspberry and two green leaves. -“Thank you,” she said, “and isn’t that a -lustre-ware pitcher?”</p> - -<p>It was, and it was in the collection of a man -who was crying, “Whatever-ye-like at yer own -price,” at the top of his lungs.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</span></p> - -<p>“A shilling,” Madeline offered boldly, -pointing to the pitcher.</p> - -<p>“Three,” retorted the man decisively.</p> - -<p>“But you just said, ‘Whatever you like -at your own price,’” Madeline reminded -him.</p> - -<p>The man winked cheerfully. “Any of this -rubbish, ma’am, I mean.” He picked up a -handful of the rusty nails. “You want only -the good things. The pitcher’s a bargain at -three bob.”</p> - -<p>“Have you any Staffordshire figures?” -asked Madeline.</p> - -<p>The man rummaged in a basket and produced -two little white lambs, each standing -on a hillock of green grass.</p> - -<p>“Oh, how cunning,” murmured Betty. “I -simply must have those.”</p> - -<p>“Then don’t act too anxious, or he’ll put -the price away up,” Madeline whispered.</p> - -<p>“You buy them,” Betty whispered back.</p> - -<p>“We wanted a man’s figure,” explained -Madeline nonchalantly. “You haven’t any? -Then I guess that’s all. How much are the -lambs?”</p> - -<p>“Thrippence.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</span></p> - -<p>“I’ll take them,” cried Betty before Madeline -could answer.</p> - -<p>The man looked amusedly from one to the -other. “You mustn’t quarrel over the baa-lambs, -ladies.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, we won’t.” Betty held out her money. -“Madeline, look!”</p> - -<p>A wizened, grizzled little Jew, whose wares -were spread out next to those of the owner of -the “baa-lambs,” had overheard their conversation -with his rival and was holding out a -figure, the exact counterpart of the one in the -Oxford Street shop. Madeline pinched Betty -to remind her not to appear over-anxious.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” she said indifferently, holding -out her hand for the little figure and examining -it carefully for cracks or nicks. “But -now that we’ve bought the lambs I don’t -know—how much is this?”</p> - -<p>“Five bob, and you can’t find another such -bargain in London,” the dealer assured her -eagerly.</p> - -<p>“What’s a bob?” whispered Betty.</p> - -<p>“A shilling,” Madeline explained. Then -she turned to the dealer. “Make it two and -six.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<a id="illo3"><img src="images/i_178.jpg" width="400" alt="“FOUR AND SIX!”" -title="" /></a></div> - -<p class="caption">“FOUR AND SIX!”</p> - -<p class="p2"><span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</span></p> - -<p>“Four and six,” he compromised.</p> - -<p>Madeline shook her head severely. “If -you’d said three and six I might have considered -it. Come on, Betty.”</p> - -<p>Betty stared in amazement. Was Madeline—yes, -she was actually walking off. She -was going to leave that lovely duke. But just -as Madeline turned the corner, the little dealer -jumped up, the figure in one hand and a scrap -of crumpled paper in the other, and with a -bound he was at Madeline’s elbow.</p> - -<p>“Have it for three and six,” he whispered -confidentially.</p> - -<p>“Oh, very well.” Madeline accepted the -bundle nonchalantly.</p> - -<p>“Hallo, Madeline. What have you done -him out of now?” Dick Blake was standing -in front of them, his face wreathed in smiles. -“I thought you’d be here to-day,” he went -on. “I had a ‘leading,’ as we used to say in -Paris when we wanted to do a silly thing, that -if I came up here I should lose all the Americans -but you. How do you like marketing -with Madeline, Miss Wales?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Dick, it’s jolly fun seeing you. But -what on earth are you doing here?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</span></p> - -<p>“Pursuing you,” explained Dick cheerfully. -“Didn’t I just say so? When I’m not pursuing -you, I’m pursuing a magnate. He’s -more elusive,—or at least I don’t know his -habits so well, and up to date I haven’t found -him. But I take my success with you to be -a good omen. I’m sure I shall spot my magnate -before long.”</p> - -<p>“Please talk sense, Dick.”</p> - -<p>“I am,” he assured her solemnly. “You -see it’s this way. New York was hot and -stupid, with everybody gone who could manage -to get away, and I wanted to go, too. But -‘The Quiver’ hasn’t been exactly booming -lately, and I couldn’t afford a nice trip.”</p> - -<p>“Meaning a trip to Europe,” interposed -Madeline.</p> - -<p>“Exactly,” Dick took her up. “So I was -feeling awfully blue, and then a week ago to-night -my old chief down in Newspaper Row -’phoned and said, ‘Dickie, you’re the best -hunter we ever had. Go to Europe and find -an elusive magnate, whose mysterious absence -is upsetting Wall Street prices,’ and I said, -‘Done,’ and made up ‘The Quiver’ for two -months ahead, and here I am. I got to Liverpool<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</span> -last night and to London this morning, -and so far I’ve ascertained that the Elusive -Magnate aforesaid isn’t staying at any of the -likely hotels.”</p> - -<p>“Dick, you are too absurd,” laughed Madeline. -“What’s your magnate’s name?”</p> - -<p>“Morton—Jasper Jones Morton. Haven’t -seen him, have you?”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t the pleasure of his acquaintance. -Have you, Betty?”</p> - -<p>Betty shook her head smilingly.</p> - -<p>“I’ve got his picture here somewhere.” -Dick felt in his pocket and drew out a cabinet -photograph. “He’s not exactly handsome -and he’s never gone in for society, but -he’s really very well-to-do, and when he suddenly -departs for the first vacation of his long -and useful life, just when his railroads are in -a good deal of a muddle and several of his -corporations are being sued by Uncle Sam, -why, naturally Wall Street sits up and takes -notice.” He passed the picture to Madeline.</p> - -<p>“Why, Betty, it’s our magnate,” she cried -laughingly, and Betty, looking at the picture -over her shoulder, gave a little shriek of delight. -“It is,” she cried.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</span></p> - -<p>Dick looked in amazement from one to the -other. “I say, have you really met him?” -he demanded. “Where was he, and which -way was he headed? He didn’t drop any hints -about his reasons for being over here, did he?”</p> - -<p>Madeline looked at Betty. “You talked to -him most.”</p> - -<p>“Do you mean did he say whether he is -over here just on a vacation for his health?” -asked Betty.</p> - -<p>Dick nodded, and she repeated Mr. Jasper -Jones Morton’s anathemas against vacations, -doctors, and European travel. “I’m sure he -was telling the truth,” she added earnestly. -“He said it all as if he meant it,—he couldn’t -have been making up.”</p> - -<p>“Having conversed with him about other -things he doesn’t like, I catch your point,” -chuckled Dick. “J. J. Morton’s earnest hatred -is very earnest indeed.” Then he grew sober -suddenly. “I wonder where’s the nearest -place to cable from. I must get this off at -once. Miss Wales, you’ve done me the best -kind of a good turn. You don’t mind my -taking your story, do you, since you haven’t -any possible use for it?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</span></p> - -<p>“Mr. Morton won’t mind, will he?” asked -Betty anxiously. “He was awfully nice to us, -and it would be mean to take advantage of him.”</p> - -<p>“No,” said Dick, “I honestly don’t think -he’ll mind. I don’t believe he wants the -market to go to smash on his account. And -to me it means—well, I haven’t been here a -day yet; and the chief gave me a week to find -him and get an interview. So it means the -biggest kind of a big beat, Miss Wales, and -that means a juicy fee and a juicy fee -means——” Dick stopped suddenly, bit his -lip, and then laughed. “I didn’t use to be so -mercenary, did I, Madeline? Then I have -your consent, Miss Wales? Are you girls -coming back with me?”</p> - -<p>For the first part of the long ride Dick -Blake was silent, his face puckered into deep -wrinkles of thought. All at once he threw -back his head and laughed merrily. “I’ve -got it,” he said, “head-lines and all. Now we -can talk. What did you do the little Jew out -of, Madeline?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, we were buying a duke for Eleanor -Watson,” explained Madeline tantalizingly. -“She wants one, you know.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</span></p> - -<p>The worried look came back to Dick’s fine -gray eyes. “Go slow, Madeline. You were -buying—— Eleanor wants a duke?”</p> - -<p>Madeline took pity on him and unwrapped -the dainty figurine, which Dick duly admired.</p> - -<p>“By the way, Miss Wales,” he began suddenly, -“you don’t know where Jasper J. went -from Grasmere, I suppose.”</p> - -<p>Betty repeated what the old gentleman had -said about the superiority of French roads.</p> - -<p>“Then I suppose I’d better cross the channel -to-night,” sighed Dick, “and here’s where -I leave this ’bus. Wish I could go home -with you and see the rest of the ‘Merry -Hearts’ and have a good talk. Good-bye, Miss -Wales. So long, Madeline. See you again -somewhere over here.” And he was gone.</p> - -<p>“Well,” Madeline told the others, when -they reached home, “we’ve got the duke and -he’s a darling, and we’ve found out the name -of the Grasmere magnate, and Betty’s been -being a B. A. again—to whom in the world do -you guess, but Dick Blake. It will be in all -the New York papers to-morrow morning. -How’s that for a strenuous day of it?”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X<br /> -<span class="smaller">THE GAY GHOSTS OF LONDON</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">To-day’s</span> the third, isn’t it?” observed -Babe carelessly the next morning at breakfast. -“I believe I’ll stay at home and write -some letters.”</p> - -<p>Babbie, who was sitting by the window, -happened to glance out at the street just then. -“You needn’t,” she announced calmly. “He’s -arriving this very minute in a hansom.”</p> - -<p>“Who is arriving, Babbie?” asked Mrs. -Hildreth. Whereupon Babbie assured her -that she was utterly disqualified as a competent -chaperon; she ought to have grasped -the connection between John Morton and -Babe’s mad desire to write letters without any -help at all.</p> - -<p>John was in high spirits. “Hope you’ve -noticed that I’m exactly on time,” he told -Babe in a confidential aside. “Old Dwight -nearly passed away with surprise when he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</span> -saw me settling down to a good steady grind. -It’s queer how people always think that if a -fellow doesn’t work it’s because he hasn’t -brains enough. Old Dwight said he actually -envied me my clear and logical mind. I told -him to tell that to dad, and he did—wrote a -corking letter all about me and my industry -and my marvelous progress. I can’t wait to -get dad’s answer.”</p> - -<p>“He’ll be sure to be awfully pleased,” said -Babe sympathetically. “I’m pleased too. -If you hadn’t finished in time I should have -given you back your pin. I wouldn’t take -a pin from a shirk.”</p> - -<p>“Are you going to escort us out to see the -sights of London, John?” asked Babbie.</p> - -<p>“Of course. That’s why I came around so -early, before you’d had a chance to get started -off without me on a picnic or a ghost-hunt or -any other interesting festivity. What shall -we do first?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, let’s have a ghost-hunt!” cried -Babbie eagerly. “We haven’t paid the least -speck of attention to ghosts since we left -Oban. I can’t have my dominant interest -so neglected.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</span></p> - -<p>“All right,” agreed John. “Only it isn’t -moonlight, and we should probably be ‘taken -in charge,’ as the police say over here, if we -made a sheeted ghost walk in London.”</p> - -<p>“Then how are we going to have a ghost-party?” -asked Betty. “Madeline, think up -a way.”</p> - -<p>Madeline considered. “First, we’ve got -to choose our ghosts—there are such quantities -in London. Then we must seek out their -haunts and conjure them to appear. If they -won’t, we shall have to go back some evening, -and try again by moonlight. Let’s each write -the name of our favorite London ghost on a -slip of paper. Babbie can draw one, because -ghosts are her dominant interest, and then -we’ll all start out in pursuit.”</p> - -<p>This arrangement suited everybody, and -Madeline hunted up pencils and paper. She -wrote the name of her favorite ghost without -an instant’s consideration, but the others -had to think hard, and Babe was caught -slyly consulting a London Baedeker. John -chewed his pencil in solemn silence until -the rest were through. Then all at once -he banged the table triumphantly with his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</span> -fist, scribbled a name on his slip, and handed -it to Madeline, who was acting as mistress of -ceremonies.</p> - -<p>“You’d better choose my ghost, Babbie,” -he announced. “If you do, I invite you -all to have luncheon with me at an appropriate -place.”</p> - -<p>“It’s not fair offering bribes,” cried Babe. -“My ghost did that, and it got him into a -horrible scrape.”</p> - -<p>“My ghost is a lady,” said Betty. “I think she -deserves some consideration on that account.”</p> - -<p>“The special advantage of mine,” put in -Madeline, “is that his haunts are miles away -from here. Think of the lovely long ’bus ride -we could have.”</p> - -<p>“Mine is both a lady and a royal personage,” -said Babbie impressively, “so she really -ought to come in ahead of any of yours. But -I’m going to be perfectly fair; I’ll draw out -a slip with my eyes shut. Dr. Samuel Johnson -wins,” she announced a minute later.</p> - -<p>“And he’s mine!” cried John. “Now remember, -everybody, the meal-tickets are to be -on me. Did you girls ever hear of the -‘Cheshire Cheese’?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</span></p> - -<p>No one had but Madeline.</p> - -<p>“What ignorance!” laughed John, and -then confessed that he never had heard of it -either, until Mr. Dwight mentioned it the -night before. “It seems it was quite a haunt -of old Dr. Johnson’s,” he explained. “It’s -a queer little eating-house just off Fleet Street. -You girls may not like it, but if you don’t -we needn’t stay.”</p> - -<p>Babbie’s ghost was Queen Victoria, Betty’s -Becky Sharp, Madeline’s Carlyle, and Babe’s -Lord Bacon.</p> - -<p>“What a collection!” laughed Madeline. -“Perhaps we can take in some of the others -on our way to the ‘Cheshire Cheese.’ Hand -me the Baedeker please, Babe.”</p> - -<p>But John objected. “We’ve got to make -perfectly sure of Dr. Johnson first,” he said -firmly. “What’s the use of choosing a ghost -if you don’t keep to him? Besides, remember, -I got down here only late last evening. -If we have any extra time, I want to go and -register my address at the American Express -office and get my mail. I’m expecting an -important letter.” John looked at Babe impressively.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</span></p> - -<p>After much lively discussion it was voted -to walk to the “Cheshire Cheese,” or at least -to walk until some one got tired. It would -be so much more convenient for showing John -the sights. And, as Madeline observed, pretty -nearly everything in London is a sight in one -way or another, so that it was really lunch-time -when John and Babe, who were ahead, -suddenly turned down a dark little alley and -waited at the corner for the rest to come up.</p> - -<p>“Is the ‘Cheshire Cheese’ in here?” asked -the fastidious Babbie doubtfully. “Well, -this certainly looks like a splendid place for -ghosts,” she added, diving down the alley -after the others.</p> - -<p>John pointed ahead to the quaint old -swinging sign that read “Ye Old Cheshire -Cheese.” It was a tiny little inn, the one -small dining-room opening right on to the -street. A waiter came bustling forward to -meet the party.</p> - -<p>“Good-morning,” said John gravely, looking -inquiringly around the room. “Which -is Dr. Johnson’s chair, please?”</p> - -<p>The waiter bowed and pointed to a seat in -one corner against the wall.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</span></p> - -<p>“Oh, I see, he’s not here yet,” said John -solemnly. “We were hoping to find him. -Well, I suppose we’d better sit down and have -something to eat while we wait.” He led the -way to the doctor’s table.</p> - -<p>The waiter, wearing a perplexed expression, -pulled out the chairs,—John insisting that -Dr. Johnson’s seat should be left vacant,—and -recited the menu for the day.</p> - -<p>“Which are the Doctor’s favorite dishes?” -John asked him.</p> - -<p>“Hi really couldn’t say, sir.” The waiter’s -tone was full of mild reproach. “The lark-pie -his our special dish, sir, and the stewed -cheese his hexcellent heatin’ and a general -favorite.”</p> - -<p>“Then we’ll have those, shan’t we, girls?” -asked John. “And bring enough for Dr. -Johnson, in case he should look in,” he added -gravely, and the waiter went off, shaking his -head and murmuring something about “those -mad Hamericans.”</p> - -<p>“I want to sit in Dr. Johnson’s chair,” -complained Babbie, when he had gone. -“There’s no sense in saving a place for a ghost, -John. Don’t you know that they can sit<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</span> -where there is somebody just as well as where -there isn’t?”</p> - -<p>“That may be,” admitted John. “But I -consider that it’s more respectful. Speaking -of ghosts, is that the ghost of Billy Benson -that I see before me, or is it Billy in person?”</p> - -<p>John tumbled his chair over in his eagerness -to get to the door and wring the hand of -a tall, broad-shouldered youth, who seemed -just as delighted to see John as John was to -see him. He had a friend with him, whom -John evidently did not know, for presently -Billy remembered him and summarily pulled -him forward to be introduced. Then the -three came over to the girls’ table.</p> - -<p>“May I present Mr. William Benson?” -John began. “Best fellow in the world, -Billy is. Rooms in my hall at Harvard. -And this is Mr. Trevelyan, a friend of Billy’s.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Trevelyan was several years older than -John or Billy. He was tall, dark, and slender, -with a distinguished manner, queer, near-sighted -gray eyes that were slightly out of -focus, making it hard to tell just where he -was looking, and a very peculiar way of speaking—it -was difficult to decide whether he had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</span> -a slight foreign accent or an impediment in -his speech.</p> - -<p>“You fellows will join us, won’t you?” -asked John hospitably. “Mr. Trevelyan, you -can have Dr. Johnson’s seat, and Billy, you -can be Boswell and squeeze in somewhere, I’m -sure.”</p> - -<p>But Mr. Trevelyan demurred politely. -“You have found friends,” he told Billy. “I -insist that you let me withdraw.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, nonsense!” said John decisively, and -when Babbie seconded the invitation, Mr. -Trevelyan allowed himself to be persuaded to -stay.</p> - -<p>“You see the Doctor did come,” John announced -triumphantly to the waiter, when -that functionary reappeared with the lark-pie -and stewed cheese. “And Boswell is with -him, so you’d better bring us something -extra.”</p> - -<p>“Very well, sir,” said the waiter, smiling -condescendingly at the absurdity of the -“Hamericans,” and Babbie overheard a rosy-cheeked -English girl at the next table say she -did wish people wouldn’t persist in treating -England as if it were a queer, old-fashioned<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</span> -toy that it was fun to spend your summers -playing with.</p> - -<p>“Come, John, you mustn’t tease that poor -waiter any more,” she commanded. “Mr. -Trevelyan and Mr. Benson don’t even know -why you’re doing it.”</p> - -<p>So John explained to his guests that they -had unwittingly joined a ghost-hunt, and then -the girls told about the Dunstaffnage ghost, -and Mr. Trevelyan followed their story up -with an account of a ghost he had seen in the -Australian cattle-country.</p> - -<p>He was an Australian, he explained, and -John, who was tremendously interested in -queer, out-of-the-way places, kept him busy -telling his experiences in the bush all through -luncheon. He told his stories so well that -every one else stopped talking to listen, and -they sat over their luncheon long after every -one else had left.</p> - -<p>“Goodness, but you’ve had an interesting -life, Mr. Trevelyan,” said Madeline, when -they finally rose to go. “Aren’t you crazy to -get back to Australia? Everything else must -seem tame after that.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Trevelyan bowed gravely in acknowledgment<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</span> -of her interest. “I shall not go back -at present. My widowed sister and I are -planning to settle down near Paris. We have -bought a house, and she is already in France, -visiting a friend. As soon as I have finished -a little business that I have here I shall join -her and we will set up housekeeping. And -now I must really leave you. I have a business -engagement.”</p> - -<p>“All right, old man,” said Billy gaily. -“Only don’t forget to turn up for dinner and -the theatre.”</p> - -<p>“Unless you wish to postpone——” began -Mr. Trevelyan.</p> - -<p>“No, indeed,” Billy assured him. “Perhaps -Morton will join us. His hotel is near -ours.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Trevelyan murmured something about -its being a great pleasure to have met them -all and hurried away.</p> - -<p>“Isn’t he great?” said Billy eagerly. “He’s -the most modest fellow you ever saw. Never -mentions his own part in all those woolly -Australian tales until you quiz him, and then -you find he was ‘it’ every time. Now I happen -to know that his sister is visiting a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</span> -countess, but you notice he was careful to say -just ‘a friend.’”</p> - -<p>“If he’d said a countess it would have been -blowing,” said John decidedly. “No nice -fellow would have lugged in the countess in that -connection. How’d you meet him, Billy?”</p> - -<p>“On the street,” laughed Billy. “He asked -me the way to the Army and Navy Club. -When I told him, he noticed I was an American, -of course——”</p> - -<p>“Oh, come off, Billy,” John broke in. -“He’d know that the minute he set eyes on -you.”</p> - -<p>“He didn’t know it till I spoke,” persisted -Billy. “You see he doesn’t belong here—hasn’t -been in London before for fifteen years. -Well, anyhow he said he was glad an American -could tell him what he’d asked half a -dozen Englishmen who couldn’t. Then we -walked on together a bit, and found we were -both traveling alone and seeing the sights, -and I asked him to meet me for dinner. Then -we went to the Tower together, and out to -Kew Gardens, and then he moved to my hotel -and we rather joined forces. He’s an awfully -good sort.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</span></p> - -<p>“I don’t doubt that he is,” agreed John -heartily.</p> - -<p>“The way he speaks interests me,” said -Madeline. “Was he born in England? Were -his parents both English, do you know?”</p> - -<p>Billy nodded. “Australians get to speaking -queerly, he says.”</p> - -<p>“Very likely,” agreed Madeline, “but I -should have been almost positive that he was -French.”</p> - -<p>“He lisps,” declared Babe. “That’s one -thing that adds to the queerness of his talk. -Well, what are we going to do next?”</p> - -<p>“We might pursue the ghost of Dr. Johnson -to his grave in Westminster Abbey,” suggested -Madeline. “Graveyards are the logical -places to hunt ghosts in, I suppose.”</p> - -<p>But John objected. “The very reason I -chose Dr. Johnson was so we wouldn’t have -to go to any musty old churchyards. I -haven’t any use for them or for picture-galleries. -Let’s go up to the American Express -Office, and by that time it will be late enough -to pursue your specialty, Miss Ayres, and -drink tea somewhere.”</p> - -<p>Billy Benson accepted with alacrity an invitation<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</span> -to join the tea-party. On the way to -the Express Office he told Babbie something -about his plans for the summer.</p> - -<p>“You see, I’m on the Harvard crew,” he -explained, “and they’re all coming over later -to have a month’s practice on the course here. -We row Cambridge in the fall, you know.”</p> - -<p>Babbie didn’t know, and inquired eagerly -when and where the race was to come off.</p> - -<p>“Why, right here, on the regular course up -near Hampton,” Billy told her, “and early in -September, just before college opens. It’s going -to be simply great. Can’t you manage to -be on hand?”</p> - -<p>Babbie explained that they were going over -to France and had meant to sail for home from -a French port. “But there isn’t any reason -why we shouldn’t come back to England first,” -she declared. “I’m going to ask mother if we -can’t do that. We could leave a week earlier -now, and have a week here in September.”</p> - -<p>“Well, as I was saying,” Billy took up his -own story, “my roommate was coming with -me in June, but he caught the measles from -his kid brother—wasn’t that the complete -limit of a thing to do?—so I just came along<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</span> -alone. I was afraid if I waited over another -boat for him, my guardian might change his -mind about letting me go.” Billy smiled -pensively. “He can change his mind all he -likes now. I’m twenty-one. My birthday -was yesterday and I celebrated by cabling -home for more money. You see,” he added -confidentially, “I’m having some clothes -made by a Bond Street tailor.”</p> - -<p>Babbie laughed. “They say what women -come abroad for is to buy clothes, but I didn’t -suppose men cared much about shopping over -here.”</p> - -<p>“Well, the point is that I didn’t bring over -any glad rags,” Billy explained. “Didn’t expect -to need any, just knocking about by myself. -But I’m going to run over to Paris when -Trevelyan goes—I shall have just time to see -the town before the crew gets here—and the -countess that his sister is visiting is going to -give a dance for her just about that time. -Trevelyan insists that she’ll want me to come, -when she hears from him that I’m with him, -and so of course I’ve got to have the proper -things ready.”</p> - -<p>“How exciting,” laughed Babbie, “to be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</span> -going to a countess’s ball. Madeline has a -cousin who is a viscountess, but she’s not in -Paris just now, and I’m afraid that spoils our -only chance of breaking into titled society.”</p> - -<p>Meanwhile they had reached the Express -Office, and John demanded his mail and received -the expected missive from his father -with a grin of rapture.</p> - -<p>“Excuse me while I read this,” he said, -waving it triumphantly aloft and retiring in -haste to a quiet corner.</p> - -<p>Two minutes later he was back, the letter -and the smile both out of sight.</p> - -<p>“Come on,” he said grimly. “Let’s go and -drown our sorrows in tea.”</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter?” Babe inquired sympathetically, -when the party had paired off to -walk to a tea-shop that Madeline knew of on -Regent Street. “Wasn’t he as pleased as you -thought he would be?”</p> - -<p>“Pleased!” repeated John gloomily. “He -wasn’t pleased at all. He told me in polite -language that Dwight had lied about me, and -insinuated that I’d put him up to it, because -I wanted to get something out of my father. -He says he had a very high opinion of Dwight<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</span> -when he hired him in the spring, but he sees -now that he’s only an ‘amiable futility,’ like all -the other tutors I’ve had. Then he ended by -saying that when he wanted information -about my mental capacity he would ask for -it, and that if I couldn’t get along with the -allowance we settled on when I came across, I -would just have to cut down my expenses.”</p> - -<p>“What a shame!” Babe’s voice was full of -righteous indignation. “And you didn’t -want any more money, did you?”</p> - -<p>“I should say not! Why, I saved a lot -while we were staying in Oban. Besides I -wouldn’t take that way to get it,—I’d ask -right out, as I generally do. It’s so maddening -to have him always assume as a matter of -course that a fellow’s in the wrong.”</p> - -<p>“Is he that way about everything?”</p> - -<p>John nodded. “I told you how he hated this -vacation that he’s taking. He enjoys grumbling -over things as much as you or I enjoy -laughing about them.”</p> - -<p>“Just like the funny old gentleman we -met in Grasmere,” said Babe. “Why, John, -is your father’s name Jasper J. Morton?”</p> - -<p>John nodded. “Just suits him, too.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</span></p> - -<p>“Why, then he was the very one we met.” -Babe laughed delightedly. “Didn’t I write -you anything about it? Well, it was this -way.” She gave a brief sketch of the encounter, -ending with, “He may be hard to -get along with sometimes, John, but he’s an -old dear just the same. Betty thinks so, -too. She saw more of him than I did.”</p> - -<p>“Well, we don’t hit it off somehow, he and -I.” John’s tone was as gloomy as ever. “I -feel sometimes as if I might as well stop trying -to please him. Makes you envy a chap -like Billy Benson who’s always done about -as he pleased and now is absolutely his own -master. I’m six months older than Billy, -but my being of age doesn’t make the least -difference in the way my father treats me, -and now I’ve done my level best this summer, -and that hasn’t made the least difference -either.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, but it must in the end,” Babe reassured -him cheerfully. “You’ll feel better -after you’ve had some tea.”</p> - -<p>But John refused to be cheered, though -Billy Benson and Madeline gave absurd -imitations of English people taking tea, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</span> -Billy read a thrilling letter from the captain -of the Harvard crew, which made all the -girls as eager as Babbie had been to come -back in September for the race.</p> - -<p>“I shan’t see that race,” John confided in -low tones to Babe. “I bet you all the -money I saved in Oban against your blue -tie that my father chooses that particular -day to sail from Liverpool.”</p> - -<p>“I never bet,” Babe returned laughingly. -“But if I see your father again—he told us -he hoped we might meet somewhere over -in France—I’ll mention the race and invite -him to take me to it.”</p> - -<p>“But if I go, I shall want to take you -myself,” objected John.</p> - -<p>“Humph!” observed Babe, “it seems to -me that Mr. Jasper J. Morton has not monopolized -all the contrariety there is in the -family.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI<br /> -<span class="smaller">BETTY WALES, DETECTIVE</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Billy Benson</span> lost no time in accepting -the girls’ invitation to call on them. On the -evening of the day after the ghost-hunt that -developed into a tea-drinking, Billy appeared, -arrayed in the “glad rags” that he had -cajoled his Bond Street tailor into finishing -long before the stipulated time. Finding that -Mrs. Hildreth was hesitating a little about -including the Harvard-Cambridge race in -her itinerary, he set himself to cajole her—with -equal success. First he told funny -stories to make her laugh; then he unearthed -the fact that his mother and she had been -girlhood friends; then he alluded casually -to English sports, and offered to take her to -a cricket-match the next afternoon; finally -he smiled his famous smile and asked her -if she honestly wouldn’t like to see that -race he had told the girls about. Of course<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</span> -he wanted to row his very best, for the honor -of Harvard and the United States of America; -and he could do any amount better if he -knew that some good friends of his would be -watching him and cheering for the crimson. -Whereupon Mrs. Hildreth laughed at his -ingenious reasoning and commissioned Babbie -and Madeline to see about engaging passage -back from an English port. And Billy, -thanking her with charming deference, and -taking an early and ceremonious leave, reflected, -as he often had before, that it was -easy enough to get things your way if you -only took a little pains to be agreeable.</p> - -<p>John Morton, on the other hand, bitterly -regretted the girls’ change of plan. “I know -I shan’t be here for the race,” he told Babe, -“and I can’t go over to Paris when you do, -because old Dwight won’t be through with -his reading at the British Museum. I might -skip off with Billy, I suppose, but my father -would be furious if he ever found it out.”</p> - -<p>“You mustn’t do that,” Babe advised him. -“It wouldn’t be the square thing at all. Besides, -we’re not going straight to Paris. -We’re going to Saint something. I forget<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</span> -the name, but it’s a seaside place up in -Brittany. Madeline says it’s lovely. So you -may get to Paris as soon as we do after all.”</p> - -<p>“I hope so. Anyway I think you ought to -go sight-seeing in London now and not waste -time over shopping. You can do that just as -well in September when I’m not here.”</p> - -<p>“And in that way we won’t have the things -we buy to lug around in the meantime,” -added Babe; but it is doubtful if this practical -consideration had very much to do with -the sudden subsidence of her shopping mania.</p> - -<p>Of course Babe told all the girls that Jasper -J. Morton, the Grasmere automobilist, and -John’s father were one and the same person. -But only to Betty did she confide the -story of the letter that had so disheartened -John.</p> - -<p>“I wish I were like you,” she said; “then -I should know how to give him the right kind -of advice.”</p> - -<p>“Why, I should think the only thing to -say was that he ought to try to make his -father see that he’s trying,” began Betty -doubtfully. “You can’t expect a person to -believe right off that you are going to work<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</span> -hard, when you’ve always wasted your time -before. Goodness, don’t you remember how -long it took Eleanor Watson to get back her -reputation? You just wouldn’t believe in her -yourself, Babe.”</p> - -<p>“That was very different. She—she wasn’t -honest. Besides, if I’d been her father I’d -have stuck by her.”</p> - -<p>Betty smiled at Babe’s easy assumptions. -“You can’t tell what you’d have done. But, -anyhow, don’t feel so bad about it. They’ll -just have to get along as they always have before.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, they won’t!” Babe’s tone was -tragic. “They—— Oh, Betty, I’ve just got -to tell some one. John says he simply can’t -stand it any longer. He’s talked to Mr. Benson -about it, and he has been asking Mr. -Trevelyan about the chances for a young man -in Australia. Mr. Benson has some kind of -a big business that his guardian is managing -for him until he’s through college, and he -says he will ask the guardian to give John a -position there. But John thinks Australia -would be better, because you can always earn -more in a wild country, and then besides, if<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</span> -his father objected, he would be away off -there and he could just go ahead with his -plans.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Babe, how silly! Then he doesn’t -want to finish his college course, after all the -time he’s spent tutoring?”</p> - -<p>Babe shook her head. “He doesn’t want -to do that anyway. He says it will be only a -waste of time. Whatever he does, he wants -to go right to work. He’d be perfectly satisfied -if his father would let him go to work in -his business.”</p> - -<p>“But what’s his dreadful hurry?” demanded -Betty. “As long as his father wants -him to finish college why doesn’t he do it, and -then go to work? If he’s really in earnest -about trying to please his father that’s what -he ought to do.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, but you see a year is a lot of time to -lose, when you might be getting started in -business. He wouldn’t expect his father to -support him—that is, we wouldn’t want—we -couldn’t——” Babe paused, blushing -furiously. “Oh, Betty, don’t you see how it -is? You’ve just screwed it out of me. Promise -you won’t tell anybody.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</span></p> - -<p>“Of course not,” laughed Betty. “A nice -consistent man-hater you are, Babe.”</p> - -<p>“But Betty, I haven’t decided anything -yet,” Babe protested hastily. “I may decide -to go on being a man-hater just the same. -Anyway John is only the exception that -proves the rule.”</p> - -<p>“Well, certainly, Babe,” Betty went on -seriously, “you wouldn’t want him to have -any trouble with his father on your account.”</p> - -<p>“Of course not,” said Babe earnestly. “I -couldn’t bear to have him do that. That’s -why it all worries me so.”</p> - -<p>“Then why not tell him that you think he -ought to stick to college and try to please his -father, whatever happens?”</p> - -<p>Babe considered, frowning. “I will. A -year isn’t so terribly long, when you’re young. -I’ll—yes, I’ll tell him that if he doesn’t decide -to go back to college and do his best to make -his father happy why I’ll just return his -cairngorm pin.”</p> - -<p>The few remaining days of the girls’ stay in -London flew swiftly by. It was the regular -thing for John to join them for a part of each -day. Sometimes when he was not too busy at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</span> -the British Museum, Mr. Dwight came too. -Billy Benson, who was an indefatigable sight-seer, -divided his time between John and the -girls and Mr. Trevelyan, who kept modestly -in the background, always ready if Billy -wanted his society, and always having “business” -to attend to when Billy was otherwise -engaged. Billy, who was an impressionable -youth, was forever singing his new friend’s -praises.</p> - -<p>“He’s so thoughtful and considerate,” he -declared to Babbie one morning. “My invitation -to the countess’s dance came this morning.” -He held out a daintily engraved card. -“What did he do but write to his sister to see -if I might bring you along. No, I didn’t suggest -it. It was all his own idea. He said -that his sister would be the only woman there -who spoke English, and as the guest of honor -she’ll be busy of course. And as I can’t ‘parlez-vous’ -one small word, he’s afraid I’ll be -bored—or a bore. Would you come?”</p> - -<p>Babbie wasn’t sure that they would be in -Paris in time for the dance. Even if they -were she hadn’t any evening dress with her, -and anyway, she was afraid her mother<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</span> -wouldn’t be willing that she should go. -“But it was fine of him to think of it,” she -ended. “I’m going to ask mother if she -minds his joining us on the trip to Hampton -Court.”</p> - -<p>The Hampton Court expedition was to furnish -the grand finale for the London chapter -of “B. A.’s Abroad.” They were to go up to -Hampton by an early afternoon train, see the -palace and gardens, have dinner at an inn -with a fascinating name just outside the palace -gates, and row down the river at sunset, taking -a train back to London somewhere further -down the line. Mrs. Hildreth was going to -chaperon the party, and she had no objection -to Babbie’s asking Mr. Trevelyan to join it. -She shook her head, however, over the invitation -to the countess’s dance. “You couldn’t -go without a chaperon, dear,” she said. “And -if the idea is that Mr. Trevelyan’s sister is to -chaperon you, why I shouldn’t be at all willing -unless I had met her beforehand.”</p> - -<p>Billy assured her easily that all those details -could be arranged. “Don’t say no until -you have to,” he begged. “I’m afraid -Trevelyan will be discouraged at the prospect<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</span> -of my dumbness and try to get out of taking -me. Besides, it would be such a jolly lark if -you came.”</p> - -<p>So the matter was left in abeyance for the -moment. Billy, in his casual way, told Mr. -Trevelyan that Mrs. Hildreth hoped she could -meet his sister before the dance, and Mr. -Trevelyan bowed gravely and said his sister -would certainly do herself the honor of calling -on Mrs. Hildreth.</p> - -<p>He bowed gravely again as he accepted -Babbie’s invitation to go with them to Hampton -Court. He seemed very familiar with the -place, and John and Billy, who found English -time-tables and tram-lines very confusing, -sighed relieved sighs and let him direct the -party.</p> - -<p>“It’s fine having him along,” Billy declared. -“He always knows where things are and -how you get there and what there is to see. -He’s as good as a regular guide, and at the -same time he’s an addition to the party.”</p> - -<p>“Without being an additional expense,” -laughed John. “Pays his own way, doesn’t -he?”</p> - -<p>Billy nodded. “We sort of take turns.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</span> -If I pay for our luncheons, he pays for dinner. -Then I pay for the theatre and so on. -It evens up in the end, and it’s less trouble -among friends.”</p> - -<p>“This expedition is to be a Dutch treat, you -know,” John explained. “Babbie insisted -that it must be that way.”</p> - -<p>Billy felt in his pockets absently. “By -George, that’s lucky for me, because I forgot to -get a check cashed this morning. Can you -lend me a little?”</p> - -<p>John laughed. “I can’t. I forgot too, and -I shall be doing well if I get back to London -with a ’bus fare.”</p> - -<p>They were standing on the terrace at Hampton -Court, overlooking the river, with its gay -row of house-boats anchored to the opposite -shore. Trevelyan was with the girls and Mrs. -Hildreth, pointing out the different boats and -telling the names of their owners.</p> - -<p>“I say, Trevelyan,” Billy hailed him, “can -you finance me for the day, and maybe John, -too? We’ve forgotten to get any checks -cashed.”</p> - -<p>Trevelyan smiled. “I think I can accommodate -you, if you don’t want too much. You<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</span> -carry express checks, too?” He looked at -John.</p> - -<p>“All good Americans do,” declared John.</p> - -<p>“Except me,” Babbie put in. “I carry -gold certificates.”</p> - -<p>“You’d better not say that too loud,” -laughed John. “With your gold certificates, -and that ring”—pointing at the sparkling -hoop of diamonds that had been Babbie’s -father’s last present to her and that she always -wore—“you’d be a valuable prey for brigands.” -He pointed to the shadowy length of Queen -Mary’s “pleached walk” just behind them. -“These European show-places swarm with -adventurers. How do you know that Trevelyan -isn’t one, and that he isn’t planning to -drag you off to that pleached walk after dinner -and rob you?”</p> - -<p>Babbie laughed. “I’m not afraid. But -it is queer, isn’t it, how the first subject of -conversations among travelers is always, ‘How -do you carry your money?’ I’ve told lots -of people how I carry mine.” She turned to -Trevelyan. “I told you the very first time I -met you.”</p> - -<p>“Did you?” asked Trevelyan absently. “I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</span> -don’t remember. Shall we go and walk in -Mary’s bower, Miss Hildreth?”</p> - -<p>Babbie had not liked Mr. Trevelyan particularly -before, but he was so entertaining this -afternoon that she was secretly annoyed when -she found herself paired off with Mr. Dwight -for the long row down the river. Mr. Trevelyan -was with Betty, who always got on -beautifully with Mr. Dwight. But it couldn’t -be helped, so Babbie settled herself to enjoy -the river and make the best of her rather -prosy companion. The river was crowded -with pleasure-craft—motor-boats, launches, -rowboats, and punts. These last fascinated -Betty, because they were different from anything -in America.</p> - -<p>“I like all these nice slow English things,” -she told Mr. Trevelyan. “Can you punt?”</p> - -<p>He nodded. “But don’t you notice that -in punting the girl nearly always does the -work?” He held his oars in one hand and -pointed to a boat that was coming up-stream -near the other bank. As he did so, he turned -to face it and the man who was lolling on the -cushions recognized him and sat up suddenly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</span></p> - -<p>“How are you, Lestrange?” he called -across the water. “Haven’t seen you in -weeks.”</p> - -<p>“Quite well, thanks. I’ve been awfully -busy,” Trevelyan called back, and picking up -his oars began pulling off with long steady -strokes that speedily put distance between -himself and the punt. But he could row and -talk, too. He seemed bent on being as agreeable -to Betty as, earlier in the afternoon, he -had to Babbie. When they reached the landing-place -that had been appointed as a rendezvous -he still kept close beside her, and on -the train and the ’bus he was a most attentive -escort. Betty, who was very sleepy, wished -at last that he would talk to somebody else -and let her have a little cat-nap in peace. She -also wanted to ask John or Billy Benson -whether his first name was Lestrange, but she -couldn’t, with him close beside her. Very -likely Babbie or Babe would know. It was -certainly a queer first name.</p> - -<p>“Who’s going to see us off in the morning?” -asked Babbie, as the men made ready to say -good-night. “John, you will, of course.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not sure,” returned John stiffly, avoiding<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</span> -Babbie’s eyes. “Quarter to ten is very -early for London.”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense!” retorted Billy Benson cheerfully. -“I’ll get you up in time. I’m coming -to the station, and so is Trevelyan, aren’t -you, old man?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, indeed,” said Trevelyan, who was -still standing close by Betty.</p> - -<p>“Well, did everybody have a good time?” -asked Madeline, when they were indoors.</p> - -<p>“I did,” said Babbie quickly, “until I got -caught with Mr. Dwight.”</p> - -<p>“I did,” agreed Betty, “until I got sleepy -and kept yawning in Mr. Trevelyan’s face, in -spite of myself. By the way, a queer thing -happened while we were rowing down the -river. Do any of you happen to know his -first name?”</p> - -<p>“It’s Arthur,” said Babbie promptly. “I -saw it on the invitation that Mr. Benson had -to the countess’s ball. It was addressed in -care of Mr. Arthur Trevelyan.”</p> - -<p>“That’s queer.” Betty repeated what the -man in the punt had said.</p> - -<p>“Probably Lestrange is his second name,” -suggested Madeline. “The invitation might<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</span> -have read L. Arthur or Arthur L. Babbie -wouldn’t have noticed the initial.”</p> - -<p>“But just suppose it isn’t,” Betty argued. -“I thought he looked queer, and tried to -hurry away, though that may all have been -my imagination; but anyhow it would have -been the most natural thing in the world for -him to have explained.”</p> - -<p>“But he wouldn’t think of explaining if it -is his other name,” Madeline persisted, “any -more than Babe would think of explaining if -some one happened to call her Sarah. However, -of course Mr. Benson doesn’t really -know anything about him. Let’s suppose he -is an adventurer, with aliases and deep-laid -schemes for separating the boys from their -money. You’d better write and warn them, -Betty.”</p> - -<p>“Honestly, Betty, you ought,” added Babe, -thinking of John’s Australian schemes, which -depended more or less on Mr. Trevelyan’s coöperation.</p> - -<p>“We shall see them all in the morning,” -Babbie reminded them. “And please don’t -say anything to mother until you’re sure. -She’ll be so horrified to think that she allowed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</span> -her innocent young daughter and her daughter’s -little friends to go around London in -such dreadful company.”</p> - -<p>So Betty decided to wait until morning. -But though the girls scanned the platform -anxiously until the train pulled out of the -station no one appeared to see them off.</p> - -<p>“I knew they wouldn’t come,” Babe confided -in savage tones to Betty. “At least I -knew John wouldn’t. I did what I told you -I would, and he was perfectly horrid—said it -was just like a girl to want to decide everything, -and that of course he’d like to please -me, but he must do what he thought was best. -So I gave him back his old cairngorm, and -there isn’t any exception to the rule of man-hating, -after all. And I’m perfectly miserable, -so there now!”</p> - -<p>Several days later Babbie got a note from -John, forwarded from her Paris address, -which seemed to disprove Babe’s theory. -They had all three gone to see the girls off, -he explained, but Mr. Trevelyan had for once -proved unreliable; he had made an unaccountable -mistake about the station, which -John had discovered too late to correct. So<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</span> -they had waited for the girls at Paddington -while the girls watched for them in Waterloo. -“He got us there an hour early too,” John -wrote. “Insisted that you said eight forty-five -instead of nine. And we were all awfully -sleepy, because after we left you we took a -long ’bus ride through the East End and then -stopped on the Embankment for supper. -Dwight hasn’t finished reading through the -British Museum, so I don’t know when we -may get to Paris. However, I still find London -very interesting”—a conclusion which -made everybody but Babe smile.</p> - -<p>This letter crossed with Betty’s note, telling -John about the name by which some of Mr. -Trevelyan’s English friends knew him; so of -course it threw no light on the subject. The -girls watched eagerly for another letter, all -through the week they spent at Saint Malo, -but none came. However, as Madeline remarked, -Saint Malo was quite fascinating -enough without any adventurer stalking -through its streets, and besides, one didn’t -need to speculate about imaginary adventures -when you were living in the midst of real -ones.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII<br /> -<span class="smaller">JASPER J. MORTON AGAIN</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Maxim</span> for travelers: Always begin your -first trip to France at Saint Malo,” announced -Betty Wales, after they had explored the -quaint old town a little. Babbie and Madeline, -the traveled contingent, agreed that it -was “just as dear and almost as dirty” as anything -in Italy, which was Madeline’s standard -of real charm. Babe, being in a state of subdued -and pensive melancholy, said nothing -and thought a great deal—but not about Saint -Malo. Madeline and Babbie supposed she was -missing John until Babe, unable to endure -their constant chaffing any longer, informed -them curtly that she never wished to see him -again as long as she lived. Having freed her -mind, she felt a little better; but she sternly -rejected sympathy, even from Betty, refused to -confide in Babbie, though the B’s had always -told one another everything, and spent most<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</span> -of her time on the hotel piazza facing the sea, -sitting in one of the hooded beach chairs that -abound at all the continental watering-places. -The hood of this particular one was lined with -pink flowered cretonne, and it was so becoming -that Babbie declared it was a perfect shame -the effect should be lost.</p> - -<p>“John would do anything she wanted if he -could see her in that chair,” she declared. -“As for her not wanting to see him, she’s -simply dying to this very minute. Won’t it -be interesting watching them make up in -Paris?”</p> - -<p>“Almost as interesting as it is watching -Betty buy post-cards in French,” laughed -Madeline.</p> - -<p>“I don’t care if I am funny,” declared Betty -stoutly. “I’m learning. I can say almost -anything I want to now, only I have to look -up some words in my dictionary. I’ve written -my family that you can learn more French -here in a week than you do in a year at -Harding.”</p> - -<p>“That’s a base slander on Harding,” returned -Madeline promptly. “Here you are -engaging the entire time of two excellent<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</span> -tutors,—meaning me and Miss Hildreth,—besides -getting incidental instruction from nearly -every inhabitant of the town. You ought to -be learning a little something, my child.”</p> - -<p>“You never bought a dictionary either, at -Harding,” put in Babbie. “You used to borrow -Nita’s.”</p> - -<p>Betty’s diminutive French dictionary had -been her first purchase in Saint Malo. In the -crowd of porters and custom-house officials on -the landing-wharf she had discovered that she -knew even less French than she had supposed, -and Madeline’s and Babbie’s easy intercourse -with the hotel servants and shop-keepers filled -her with envy and despair.</p> - -<p>“I will learn,” she declared. “I never -wanted to particularly before, but now I want -to more than anything. I won’t be carried -along on this trip like a piece of baggage, -having to call one of you whenever I want to -ask for hot water or buy a postage stamp.”</p> - -<p>So she bought her dictionary and carried it -with her everywhere, bringing it out on all -occasions, to the intense amusement of Babbie -and Madeline, who criticised her accent -mercilessly, taught her the most complicated<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</span> -idioms they could remember, and assisted her -progress by making her inquire the way about -the town, do their shopping as well as her -own, and even flounder through protracted -interviews with the fat and obtuse old woman -who rented bath-houses and suits on the rocks -just below the wall that encircled the town. -With such strenuous practice it was certainly -no wonder, as Madeline had pointed out, that -Betty’s progress was rapid.</p> - -<p>Saint Malo is a tiny, sleepy town, shut in by -a great wall. Its narrow, crooked streets are -lined with tall stone houses, there is a lovely -old church towering over everything, and on -all sides, when the tide is high, is the sea. At -low tide there are great stretches of ugly yellow -sand flats, where it is not safe to walk -because of treacherous quicksands, and over -which the incoming sea rushes “faster than a -horse can gallop,” so the natives tell you -proudly. But there are small bathing beaches -close to the wall; there is the wall to promenade -on; there are the dark, stuffy little shops -in the town where one buys Brittany ware and -Cluny lace, all “très bon marché,” of bright-eyed -peasant women in caps and sabots; and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</span> -everywhere there is the fascinating foreign atmosphere -that is, after all, the crowning feature -in the charm of traveling.</p> - -<p>“I’m so glad we aren’t automobiling this -time!” sighed Babbie. “James wouldn’t -have let us come here. He’d have fussed -about the roads or the garages or something -of that sort. I hope we shall have time for -some more little out-of-the-way villages.”</p> - -<p>“There are dozens in this neighborhood,” -the “man from Cook’s” assured her. “We -ought to be energetic and take some side-trips. -We can go to Dinard——”</p> - -<p>“That’s where I want to go,” broke in Mrs. -Hildreth. “I’ve heard so much about what -a gay, pretty little place it is. Is it hard to -get there, Madeline?”</p> - -<p>“Not a bit,” responded Madeline, “only -if we’re going to-day we ought to start in a -few minutes and have lunch there, because -the tide is low about noon, and at low tide -the ferry-boat doesn’t run, or if it does it -starts from some inconvenient place.”</p> - -<p>“Then if Dinard is dressy, I can’t go,” said -Betty sadly. “Every one of my thin waists is -torn, and it takes ages to mend them nicely.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</span></p> - -<p>“Then why don’t you come over in the -afternoon and meet us there?” suggested -Madeline. “The pretty French girl who -sits opposite us at table d’hôte says that there -is a Casino where they have music in the -afternoons. People motor in from the châteaux, -and it’s great fun sitting on the piazzas -and watching the gaiety. I’ll wait and come -with you, if you like.”</p> - -<p>But Betty insisted that she could go perfectly -well alone. “I can say, ‘Ou est le -casino?’ beautifully,” she declared, “and -if I don’t understand a word of the answer -why I can just watch which way they point. -The lovely thing about French people is that -they always point. I’ll mend all my waists -and take the ferry about four, or whenever -the tide is right, and meet you at the -Casino.”</p> - -<p>And so at half-past three,—because, to tell -the truth, it was easier to be a little early -than to ask the hotel clerk about the tide,—Betty, -dressed in her prettiest white suit and -her hat with the pink roses, came out of the -hotel and started down the road to the ferry -landing. It was a hot day and the road was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</span> -dusty, and she hurried as fast as possible to -get into the shelter of the little park just -back of the landing. But before she reached -it she heard a shout from the bottom of the -landing-steps, and the next minute she realized -that somebody was calling her,—a stout -gentleman, who, having detached himself -from the little crowd that had gathered there, -was laboriously climbing the steps to meet -her, still calling and beckoning frantically as -he came. But instead of using her name he -was shouting, “Miss B. A.! Miss B. A.!” -And this, before he was near enough to be -recognized, gave Betty the clue to his identity. -It was Jasper J. Morton, of course.</p> - -<p>His coat was off, he carried his hat in his -hand, and his face was red with heat and indignation.</p> - -<p>“Do you speak English?” he demanded, -when he was near enough to be heard. “I -mean do you speak French? I’ve been tearing -around asking people if they speak English -until I’m hoarse.”</p> - -<p>“I’m very glad to see you again,” said -Betty, holding out her hand and trying not -to smile at the absurd figure he cut. “I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</span> -speak only a little bit of French, but fortunately -I have my dictionary along,”—she -pulled the little book out of a pocket in her -linen coat—“and with that I can generally -manage pretty well.”</p> - -<p>“The point is,” Mr. Morton broke in impatiently, -“do you speak French enough to -ascertain what has happened to this confounded -ferry? I came over here this morning -from a place called Dinard. I came by -ferry. I climbed those identical steps.” He -waved his hand dramatically toward the -landing. “I lunched and strolled around -the town until it was nearly time for me to -meet my chauffeur in Dinard. Then I came -back here. The ferry is gone. The ocean is -gone. Am I out of my senses, or what’s -happened?” He mopped his brow and glowered -darkly at Betty.</p> - -<p class="p2b">“The ferry hasn’t gone for good,” she assured -him soothingly, “nor the ocean. In a -few minutes they’ll both be back and we can -go to Dinard together. I’m waiting for the -ferry too.” And she explained about the -tides, which necessitated the intermittent -service.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<a id="illo4"><img src="images/i_228.jpg" width="400" alt="“I HAVE MY DICTIONARY”" -title="" /></a></div> - -<p class="caption">“I HAVE MY DICTIONARY”</p> - -<p class="p2"><span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</span></p> - -<p>Jasper J. Morton stared out across the great -stretch of bare sand. “Do you mean to tell -me that in a few minutes all that will be under -water enough to float a good-sized ferry-boat? -Well, these tides must be French, like -all the rest of it. In that case it’s lucky I -didn’t try to walk out to the edge of the -water to see if I couldn’t find a boat there.” -He looked at his watch. “I’m two hours late -now. I’m never late for my appointments. -My chauffeur won’t know what to make of it. -He can’t speak French either, so he won’t be -able to ask any questions.”</p> - -<p>Betty laughed. “You ought to get a dictionary -like mine. It’s very useful. Can I -do anything else for you, Mr. Morton?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Morton looked at her sharply. “You -can. You can come down the steps with me -and tell the man who insists on holding my -coat that I don’t want a guide, philosopher -and friend, or whatever else he’s trying to be -to me, but that I do want my coat. Pay -him off with these.” He handed her some -silver.</p> - -<p>With some difficulty Betty made the man -understand that “le monsieur Anglais” did<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</span> -not want a guide for the afternoon, nor a boatman, -nor a porter.</p> - -<p>“And now,” said Jasper J. Morton briskly, -“comes the real business of the moment. -I’ve got to send some telegrams to Dol, where -I’m stopping and where I was to meet two -friends on business at five o’clock. I shan’t -be there at five. Is your French equal to finding -a telegraph office?”</p> - -<p>Betty looked up several words in her dictionary, -asked a question or two, and they -started off. At the telegraph office Mr. Morton -wrote two messages just alike: “Unavoidably -detained. Back in evening. Clef -d’Or best hotel.”</p> - -<p>“That will fix them,” he said, smiling -cheerfully at Betty. “They’ll spend the afternoon -in the sulks, thinking I’ve changed -my mind and won’t come in to their game. -Now see that he reads them right and tell -him to hurry them off, and then we can talk -English for a while.</p> - -<p>“I’ve done everything to-day that my doctor -ordered me not to,” he told her when they -were on their way back to the ferry. “I’ve -worried about business, I’ve got overexcited<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</span> -and overheated, I’ve lost my temper, and to-night -I’m going to do business—the biggest -deal I ever put through. You’ve been a -Benevolent Adventurer this time all right, -Miss—Miss——”</p> - -<p>“Wales,” Betty supplied.</p> - -<p>“Think I’ll have to call you Miss B. A.,” -he laughed. “By the way, how did you find -out my name?”</p> - -<p>Betty had to think a minute. “Why, we -met a man in London who knows you, and -then we know your son.”</p> - -<p>“You know John?” repeated Mr. Morton -irritably.</p> - -<p>Betty nodded. “Don’t you remember I -told you when we met before what a good time -we had in Oban? Well, he was the one we -had it with—he and Mr. Dwight. Only I -didn’t know it then—I didn’t know he was -your son, I mean. And then in London we -met him again.”</p> - -<p>“You did, eh?” Mr. Morton eyed her -sharply. “Met him again in London? Are -you at the bottom of this new leaf of his that -Dwight wrote me about, Miss B. A.?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no,” said Betty quickly, “but I think<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</span> -Babe is,—at least they got to be awfully good -friends, and she hates a shirk.”</p> - -<p>“Babe—that’s the little tomboy who stood -up for you against me.” Mr. Morton laughed -at the recollection. “She’d be a match for -John. She’d make something of him if any -one could. But what she can see in him beats -me. Oh, he’s a pleasant fellow enough, but -he’ll never amount to that, Miss B. A.” -Jasper J. Morton snapped his fingers derisively.</p> - -<p>They had come out on the water-front and -Betty, happening to look ahead, saw that the -tide had come in, and with it the ferry-boat, -which at that very moment gave a warning -whistle.</p> - -<p>“Oh, dear, we’ve missed the boat!” she -said, “and they only go once an hour.”</p> - -<p>“No, we haven’t,” cried Mr. Morton. -“What’s the French for ‘Wait’? You tell -me and I’ll shout it.” Which he did with -such effect that the captain reversed his engines -and put back for them.</p> - -<p>“Attendez,” repeated Mr. Morton, when he -had settled himself on board and caught his -breath. “Hope I can remember that. It -will be sure to come in handy somewhere. I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</span> -haven’t any head for languages—never had. -Can’t talk to one of my foreign agents without -an interpreter.”</p> - -<p>“It’s queer that your son should be so fine -at languages,” said Betty, glad to get in a -word in John’s favor. “We’ve always thought -that Madeline Ayres was perfectly remarkable, -but she says he is any amount more so.”</p> - -<p>“Really?” Mr. Morton’s tone was unpleasantly -sceptical. “Well, I don’t know -that I ever paid a bill for a tutor in languages, -as far as that goes.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, these aren’t the kinds you study at -college,” Betty explained, “or at least he -knows them too, I suppose; but I was thinking -of Dutch and Danish and Russian and -those queer kinds. He speaks ten different -ones, I think he said, and he can understand -a few words of some others.”</p> - -<p>“This is all news to me,” said Jasper J. -Morton drily. “How’d he learn them?”</p> - -<p>“Down on some wharves that you own, -he said. You do own some wharves, don’t -you?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Morton puckered his lips into a queer -smile. “Well, I’m surprised for once in my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</span> -life—agreeably surprised. I didn’t suppose -John had any useful accomplishments.”</p> - -<p>Betty smiled engagingly. “Well, as long -as you didn’t know about this one, don’t you -suppose he has lots of others that you don’t -know about, either?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Morton laughed good-naturedly. “So -you think I’m inclined to look on the dark -side of things, do you, Miss B. A.? Well, -I’ll write the boy to-night, after I’ve scalped -those two railroad presidents, and tell him -that I hear good accounts of him. I say, -here we are at Dinard, and actually there’s -my chauffeur waiting for me. Waited because -it was the easiest thing to do, I suppose. -Now you must let me take you to -your friends, only you’ll have to ask the -way, because I can’t.”</p> - -<p>As Betty waved him a good-bye from the -steps of the Casino she thought sadly of a -great many things she might have said about -John and hadn’t. “It’s so difficult when -you’ve been confided in and have to remember -what you mustn’t tell,” she thought. -“Oh, dear, I meant to explain about Mr. -Blake and what I told him. I forgot that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</span> -too. I hope Mr. Morton won’t forget to write -the letter to his son.”</p> - -<p>Her eyes followed Mr. Morton’s big red -car as it turned a corner, and there, walking -briskly toward her, his eyes absently fixed -on the ground, his cynical expression even -more pronounced than usual, was Mr. Richard -Blake himself.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII<br /> -<span class="smaller">A “NEAR-ADVENTURE”</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Just</span> as Betty discovered Mr. Blake he -looked up and discovered her.</p> - -<p>“How do you do?” he inquired gaily, -striding across the street and up the steps -to shake hands. “I’m extra glad to see you -because I regard your appearance as a good -omen. You’ve got another scoop up your -sleeve for me, now haven’t you?”</p> - -<p>“Do you mean that you haven’t found -Mr. Morton yet?” demanded Betty, dispensing -with formal greetings in her haste -to explain Mr. Morton’s whereabouts. -“Why, you just met him, Mr. Blake. He -went around that corner just now in his -car.”</p> - -<p>“The mischief he did!” Mr. Blake -turned and surveyed the corner ruefully. -“I was thinking of somebody—something -else. I didn’t know a car passed me. I say,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</span> -I suppose you haven’t any idea where he was -going?”</p> - -<p>“To Dol. He told me he was staying -there.”</p> - -<p>“He’ll change his mind on the way—I’ve -chased him long enough now to know his -habits. Still it’s worth trying. See here, -Miss Wales, don’t you want to come along -and introduce me,—or just countenance the -expedition by your presence? Jasper J. -hates newspaper men, and you might be a -lot of help. It won’t take ten minutes to -round him up. We can go in that car.” He -waved his hand at one drawn up by the -curbing.</p> - -<p>“Of course I’ll come,” agreed Betty, “only -I ought to go in and tell Mrs. Hildreth first.”</p> - -<p>“No time,” objected Dick brusquely. -“Every minute counts.” He ran down -the steps and began cranking the engine -vigorously. “Get up in front beside me, so we -can talk.”</p> - -<p>Betty hesitated an instant and then, reflecting -that ten minutes couldn’t matter -much, and wishing to be obliging, she jumped -in. Mr. Blake was beside her in an instant,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</span> -and before she had had time to button her -coat or pull her veil tight, they were fairly -whizzing down the hill.</p> - -<p>“You don’t mind going fast, do you?” -asked Mr. Blake absently, his eyes on the -sharp rise beyond.</p> - -<p>Betty’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I -never went fast enough yet. I didn’t know -you had a car with you, Mr. Blake.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I haven’t,” he explained quickly. -“This belongs to an old pal of mine—somebody -you know, by the way. Remember -Mrs. Bob, who chaperoned Madeline’s house-party? -Well, this is her husband’s car. You -remember him, too, and the awful daubs he -painted? We guyed him about them until -he took it to heart and went West to make his -fortune. Put all his money in a Texas oil -well, had beginner’s luck, and now he’s drawing -a thousand a week from that well. And -prosperity has improved his painting, too, until -he turns out very decent things. He’s -working in the garden next the Casino this -afternoon. I was to come for him about this -time, and we were going for a little spin in -the cool of the afternoon.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</span></p> - -<p>“Won’t he be worried about his car?”</p> - -<p>“Probably, if he goes out to look for it,” -said Mr. Blake calmly. “But he ought to have -something to worry over. He’s getting disgracefully -fat. Do you know, Miss Wales, our -friend Jasper J. is going the pace all right, if -that cloud of dust ahead is his outfit.”</p> - -<p>“We’re catching up a little though, aren’t -we?” asked Betty anxiously.</p> - -<p>“We certainly are,” Dick assured her, “but -I’m afraid it’s no ten minute job we’ve tackled. -I didn’t know he was such a reckless driver. -I’m sorry I got you out here on false pretences, -Miss Wales. Will Mrs. Hildreth worry?”</p> - -<p>“Not unless I’m awfully late,” said Betty -cheerfully. “And, anyway, we can’t help it -now. I certainly can’t walk back and you -can’t take me back; you’d surely lose Mr. -Morton if you did that.”</p> - -<p>“Exactly.” Mr. Blake’s eyes were on the -white road ahead, and he spoke in jerky sentences, -keeping time to the throb of the machine. -“I should lose the trail, and the last -chance of making good on this assignment. -Time’s up to-morrow, you know. When I -met you I was blue as indigo—saw myself sailing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</span> -back to New York with my reputation for -being the best sleuth in town knocked to -splinters. So Mrs. Hildreth and Bob Enderby -will both have to bear up as best they can.”</p> - -<p>“It’s queer how I’ve happened on Mr. Morton -twice just in time to accommodate you,” -laughed Betty.</p> - -<p>“Mighty lucky for me,” said Richard -briefly. “You’re cold, Miss Wales. Reach -under the seat and you’ll find something in -the way of a wrap.”</p> - -<p>Betty reached, and drew out a leather coat. -“How stunning!” she said, pulling it around -her shoulders. “Is it yours or Mr. Enderby’s?”</p> - -<p>“It’s Bob’s.” He turned to look. “I say, -that’s a new one on me. Bob’s blossoming -out in awfully swell togs all of a sudden. He’s -been sporting an old corduroy coat that his -wife wouldn’t have in the studio.”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Blake, the other car has stopped!” -cried Betty eagerly.</p> - -<p>“It has, for sure. You certainly do bring -luck, Miss Wales! Now here goes for one last -desperate spurt.”</p> - -<p>They dashed along the straight white road<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</span> -in silence, Betty wondering rather anxiously -how Jasper J. Morton would receive them, -Mr. Blake intent on his work, until suddenly -he gave an impatient little exclamation, and -slowing down, leaned forward to listen to his -engine.</p> - -<p>“The gasoline can’t be low,” he muttered -angrily. “I took her to be filled myself and -Bob just ran her around the town a bit afterward.” -He went slower still to make sure. -“It is low,” he told Betty dejectedly. “It’s -horribly low. We shall be lucky if we catch -him where he is now. If he starts on we’re lost.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, well, perhaps he won’t start on,” said -Betty cheerfully, “at least not if we hurry.”</p> - -<p>Dick started the car again. “I say, but -you’re game,” he declared admiringly. “A -good many girls would dislike the charming -prospect of having to go home in a Brittany -farm-wagon.” He squinted at the big car -ahead. “Jasper J. can’t take us back. He’s -punctured one of his back tires. He’ll be in -an angelic mood to receive us.”</p> - -<p>Betty gave a nervous little laugh. “That’s -what I’m afraid of.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Blake sighed. “I oughtn’t to have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</span> -brought you, Miss Wales—I don’t see how I -ever thought of such a foolish scheme. But -now that you’re here you’re just to sit in the -car, while I go and inquire the way to the -nearest gasoline supply, and incidentally, as I -inquire, discover that I’m talking to a man -I want most awfully to see. It’s all going to -be beautiful and casual, and I shall refer to -you only if everything else fails.”</p> - -<p>By this time they were very near Mr. Morton’s -car, and their own was crawling so slowly -that Mr. Blake drew it up by the roadside and, -tooting his horn a few times by way of encouraging -Mr. Morton to wait for him, started -briskly off to his interview.</p> - -<p>“You’ll be in plain sight of us,” he told -Betty, “so you can’t get lonely, and you can -have oceans of fun watching Jasper J. turn me -down—or try to.”</p> - -<p>Betty, watching him go, wished she had -thought it fair to tell him about the railroad -presidents who were waiting at Dol. “But I -couldn’t do that,” she reflected. “I’m afraid -I’ve told him too much as it is.”</p> - -<p>Meanwhile there was a good deal of excitement -at the Dinard Casino—the “high-life<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</span> -Casino,” so read the tickets of admission and -the placard by the door. It wasn’t about -Betty; Mrs. Hildreth and the girls had been -wondering about her non-appearance, but they -had scarcely reached the worrying stage as yet. -The excitement had to do with a scandal in -“high-life.” A young Frenchman had driven -his car in from a near-by château, had barely -stepped inside the Casino, and come back to -find the car gone. He had immediately borrowed -a racing machine and rushed off in hot -pursuit, leaving the Casino piazzas agog with -strange rumors. These flew about chiefly in -French, but Madeline and Babbie caught -snatches and told the others. The most picturesque -detail was the fact that the Casino’s -porter had stood unsuspectingly and watched -the thief and his confederate, a pretty young -girl, drive off. The girl had come and stood -on the steps,—looking in, supposedly, to make -sure that the coast was clear. She was English -or perhaps American, was young, with -curly golden hair, was dressed all in white, -and had nothing of the air of the adventuress -about her. Madeline and Babbie exchanged -bewildered glances, suppressed some details,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</span> -and covertly assured each other that Betty -was too old and too sensible to let herself be -kidnapped in broad daylight. And how otherwise -should she be helping to steal automobiles? -It was too ridiculous!</p> - -<p>This was just what an excited young Frenchman, -having stopped his racing car with a skilful -turn close beside her, and caught her attention -by a low bow and a deferential “Pardon, -Madame,” was demanding of her in -rapid-fire French, which dazzled poor Betty’s -mind into absolute blankness.</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand,” she -said sadly at last. “That is, Jé ne comprend -pas. If you can’t speak English, you’d better -ask Mr. Blake. Demandez à ce monsieur.” -She pointed ahead.</p> - -<p>“Ah!” The Frenchman’s black eyes flashed -with pleasure as he noticed Mr. Blake. He -turned to a man in uniform in the tonneau -and they conversed in more rapid-fire French, -after which the man in uniform jumped out -of the Frenchman’s car and then with another -“Pardon, Madame,” calmly climbed into -Betty’s. This was strange enough, but the -effect of the Frenchman’s communication on<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</span> -Mr. Blake, who spoke French like a native, -was even stranger. He listened a minute, -asked a quick question, and then started on -the run toward Betty, with Jasper J. Morton -panting behind him. When Mr. Blake -started, the man in uniform hopped nimbly -out and stood in the middle of the road, as if -to intercept his passage, and when he rushed -around to the back of the car the man in uniform -was instantly beside him.</p> - -<p>“It’s true, all right,” he told Betty a minute -later, coming around to her side. “Oh, you -didn’t understand? He says I’ve stolen a -car, and I have. That’s not Bob’s number. -This car is absolutely like his in every other -way—except for the lack of gasoline and the -different coat, of course. And how was I to -know that Bob hadn’t squandered his gasoline -and bought a new coat?”</p> - -<p>“Miss B. A.! Are you here?” cried Mr. -Morton, coming up behind Dick. “Then perhaps -you’ll be good enough to explain. This -gentleman asked me to lend him gasoline -enough to get to a garage, and instead of waiting -for my answer he begins to jabber French -and then runs off like a madman.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</span></p> - -<p>“Why, we’ve stolen a car,” explained Betty. -“That is, Mr. Blake took the wrong one by -mistake, and these people thought he did it on -purpose.”</p> - -<p>“Took the wrong car by mistake,” muttered -Mr. Morton. “Well, I don’t doubt it, since -you vouch for the gentleman, but otherwise it -would look very black to me. Is he given to -making mistakes of that sort?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no,” cried Betty quickly. “But you -see we were in such a hurry, and I suppose he -was pretty much excited because it was his -last chance and so important and all——”</p> - -<p>“Wait a minute,” commanded Mr. Morton -peremptorily. “I don’t follow you. What -was your tremendous hurry? What was -the gentleman’s last chance that it was -of the utmost importance he should utilize?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, hadn’t he told you?” asked Betty. -“But of course he hadn’t had time to. Why—please -don’t be angry, Mr. Morton, but we -were chasing you. Mr. Blake’s newspaper -sent him over here to interview you, and he -has missed you ever so many times, and he -couldn’t stay any longer than to-day.” She<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</span> -paused to see what the effect of her announcement -would be.</p> - -<p>“You and a New York reporter chasing me -in a stolen automobile! A pretty story that -would make!” Jasper J. Morton’s tone was -deeply indignant. Then he looked from Betty’s -solemn face to Mr. Blake, who was hot -from his run and his valiant efforts to convince -the Dinard police sergeant of his innocence, -then at the Frenchman, alert and -smiling, as he awaited the outcome of the discussion, -and his eyes began to twinkle. “Does -he know about those railroad presidents in -Dol?” he demanded, jerking his thumb toward -Mr. Blake.</p> - -<p>Betty explained that she hadn’t considered -herself at liberty to tell Mr. Blake that.</p> - -<p>“Just chased me on general principles,” he -chuckled. “Well, I’ve been chased pretty -hard sometimes, but never by a pretty girl in -a stolen automobile, so far as I remember. -Hi there, young man,” he raised his voice. -“Come over here and tell me how all this -happened.” Then, as Dick deserted the sergeant, -he added, “Miss B. A. here is trying to -make me think that I’m to blame.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</span></p> - -<p>Dick laughed. “Then I suppose she’s told -you that it was awfully important to me to see -you. If I could just ask you a few questions, -Mr. Morton, before I go back with this man, -I should be everlastingly obliged. He insists -on putting me under arrest. I’ve got a friend -in Dol who’ll go bail for me, but until then -the best I can do is to make him let Miss -Wales off.” He smiled dejectedly at Betty.</p> - -<p>“Put you under arrest, indeed!” sniffed -Jasper J. Morton. “Why, it was a clear case -of mistake, wasn’t it? She says it was. You’ve -got a friend who’s got a car like that, haven’t -you? You can show ’em—the car and the -friend—as soon as we get into Dinard. You’ll -ride back with me, both of you, if my man -ever gets that puncture mended.” Jasper J. -Morton pulled out a roll of fifty-franc notes -and flourished them at the sergeant, who was -staring uncomprehendingly. “How much do -you want, my good fellow? I’ll go bail, or -whatever you please to call it. Ask him how -much he wants, Miss B. A. Where’s your dictionary? -No,” as Mr. Blake started forward, -“you wait a minute. She’ll manage him -best.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</span></p> - -<p>So Betty explained what Mr. Morton wanted, -with frequent promptings from that impatient -gentleman; and the sergeant, accepting a small -fee “for the accommodation,” agreed to take -the gentleman’s word and his friend’s word -that they would both appear in court at Dinard, -if, after the aggrieved Frenchman had -seen Mr. Bob’s car and interviewed its owner, -he was not willing to accept Mr. Blake’s apology -and withdraw his suit. As a matter of -fact, all the Frenchman wanted was his car -back unharmed; he had brought the police -sergeant only in case of emergency. And as -the policeman couldn’t drive a car, he was -glad to accept Mr. Morton’s offer that his chauffeur, -who had at last finished repairing the -tire, should put in enough gasoline from his -machine to carry the stalled car to a garage -and should then drive it back to Dinard.</p> - -<p>“I’m going to drive mine myself,” Mr. -Morton announced. “That’s another thing -that my doctor told me not to do, you know. -Blake, get in behind with Miss B. A.”</p> - -<p>But Betty protested that she was tired and -wanted the tonneau to herself. As a matter -of fact, she was sure that if Mr. Blake and Mr.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</span> -Morton rode together, Mr. Morton would never -be able to resist telling about the railroad presidents -cooped up in Dol waiting for him. And -sure enough, it was only a few minutes before -she heard him say, “That’ll make a great story, -you know. Sleepy French town—nothing -happened there for centuries—doesn’t know -the meaning of high finance. Americans -choose it as neutral ground on which to discuss -biggest traffic coup in history. Wall -Street feels the shock. Oh, I suppose you can -turn out that sort of thing much better than I -can. You come over to Dol and see the fun. -I’ll introduce you as my secretary. Can you -act a little like a secretary?”</p> - -<p>After a while she heard him ask, “Do you -always chase everything you want as hard -as you chased me? I like to see a man chase -hard.”</p> - -<p>Madeline and Babe were on the Casino -steps waiting to get the first possible sight of -the crowd coming up from the ferry, for if -Betty didn’t come on this boat they were all -going back to Saint Malo in the hope of finding -her there. But before Betty, assisted by Mr. -Blake and Mr. Morton, had finished explaining<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</span> -herself, the Frenchman, who had waited -to pilot his own car to a garage, came up, and -Madeline deserted her friends to rush at him -with such a friendly greeting and such a torrent -of questions in French, that she immediately -became the centre of interest.</p> - -<p>“Dick Blake,” she began, bringing the smiling -Frenchman over to the other group, “do -you mean to tell me that you’ve forgotten my -cousin Edmond, after all the fun we had together -in Paris? That’s as bad as Edmond’s -having forgotten his English, so that he -couldn’t tell Betty in plain terms that she was -a thief.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, Madeline!” He turned to Betty, -eager to deny such an intention, but his face -fell and he made a comical gesture of inadequacy. -“It ez so far away! I cannot say my -meaning.”</p> - -<p>“So long ago, you mean, don’t you, young -man?” asked Mr. Morton, eyeing him as if he -were some sort of strange animal. “See here, -these reunions are all very interesting, but I’m -getting hungry. Now, why can’t you all have -dinner with me at that hotel over there? -Baedeker says it’s the best in the place. A<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</span> -sort of peace festival, you know. Miss B. A., -suppose you take me in and present me to -Mrs. Hildreth and see what she says about -it.”</p> - -<p>Babe had hurried in ahead of them with the -news of Betty’s safe return, without waiting -to have any conversation with Mr. Morton. -But when the dinner project was approved by -Mrs. Hildreth and Mr. Morton insisted that -“the little tomboy” must sit on his left, Babe -made no objection, and she had spirited repartees -ready for all Mr. Morton’s sallies. She -even went so far as to tell him about the Harvard-Cambridge -race and ask him, as she had -promised John she would, to take her to see it.</p> - -<p>“Sure you won’t throw me over for a -younger beau?” he asked her. “He’s likely -to be in London then if I am, you know.”</p> - -<p>But Babe only laughed unconcernedly, and -assured him that she never, never broke engagements.</p> - -<p>The party separated early because, as Mr. -Morton explained jovially, he and Mr. Blake -had urgent business in Dol. Mr. Blake had -managed to sit beside Madeline at dinner, -and had told her all about his success with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</span> -Mr. Morton, and what he hoped might come -of it.</p> - -<p>“I just must tell some one or I’ll burst,” -Blake confided. “Mr. Morton has been -asking me about the magazine. ‘If you had -a hundred thousand or so and a free hand, -could you win out with it?’ he asked me. So -who knows, Madeline—my chance may have -come at last!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Dick,” Madeline began, breathlessly, -“wouldn’t that be—— I’m going to touch -wood right away,” she added, suiting the -action to the word. Dick laughed, but his eyes -were shining with a new hope and purpose.</p> - -<p>“He never mentioned Eleanor, of course,” -Madeline told the others, as they brushed -their hair in Babe’s room and discussed the -events of the most exciting day of the summer. -“But that’s why he cares so much. He used -to be the most indifferent, blasé person you -ever saw.”</p> - -<p>“What I don’t understand,” said Babbie, -carefully barricading herself from a storm of -pillows, “is why a person who doesn’t want -to see another person as long as she lives -should invite another person’s father to take<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</span> -her to a boat-race, knowing that another -person will be there too.”</p> - -<p>“Your English is mixed,” retorted Babe -with all her customary levity, “but if you -mean me and Mr. Morton and the race in -London, why I promised to ask him ages -ago, and I wouldn’t back down now just -because John and I were silly and quarreled. -John was your friend to begin with, and if -he tags his father to the race you can look -after him, I guess.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t look after men; I let them look -after me,” announced Babbie with dignity.</p> - -<p>“Don’t squabble,” said Madeline. “I’ve -got an idea. I believe Arthur Lestrange -Trevelyan, or Lestrange Arthur Trevelyan, is -all right. Think how black things looked -for Dick to-day, with only the thin excuse -of having made a mistake about the automobiles. -If Edmond had been a bad-tempered -person and the police sergeant had been incorruptible, -they’d certainly have arrested -him.”</p> - -<p>“And Betty too,” put in Babbie. “Think -of poor innocent little Betty’s being arrested!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</span></p> - -<p>“He must be all right—Mr. Trevelyan, -I mean,” suggested Babe, “because as soon -as John got your letter, he and Mr. Benson -would have gone to work to find out about -him, and if he hadn’t been all right they’d -certainly have written to us before this.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’m going to bed,” said Betty, -yawning vigorously. “I’m sleepy, and if -your cousin is going to take us automobiling -all day to-morrow and comes for us as early -as he said, we’ve got to be up betimes.”</p> - -<p>“Too true,” agreed Madeline. “But please -don’t hold us responsible for the strenuous life -we’re leading. It’s all your fault, Miss B. A.”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t do a single thing I could help,” -protested Betty.</p> - -<p>But Madeline insisted gaily that it had -all been a preconceived plan on Betty’s part -to make her dominant interest fill most -space in the annals of “B. A.’s Abroad.”</p> - -<p>“You began with mild little benevolent -adventures,” she said, “and now you’ve had -what Roberta Lewis would call a near-adventure. -Next thing you know you’ll plunge -us all into a real adventure—the kind you -read about in novels.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</span></p> - -<p>“Wouldn’t that be great?” sighed Babe -sleepily. “Now please run away and let me -have a little peace.”</p> - -<p>But Madeline and Babbie were still wide -awake. They sat on the edge of poor -Babe’s bed for an hour longer inventing -“real adventures” that should materialize in -Paris.</p> - -<p>“The thing we need is an adventurer,” -complained Madeline sadly, “that is, unless -Mr. Trevelyan will ‘oblige with the part,’ as -they say at actors’ benefits. We’ll ask Edmond -about the haunts of adventurers. Perhaps -he’ll be able to put us on the track of -a king in exile looking for an American -wife, or a prime minister watching for a lady -to drop her handkerchief as a signal that she -is his fellow conspirator. You see I have to -leave you in Paris and I do want a grand excitement -of some sort before I go.”</p> - -<p>“Paris gowns are quite exciting,” suggested -Babbie, dragging Madeline off to bed at last. -“I’m not counting on the ball, because it’s so -uncertain.”</p> - -<p>“Why how stupid of us to have forgotten -the ball,” began Madeline eagerly. “We<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</span> -could start a perfectly magnificent adventure -with that.”</p> - -<p>But Babbie put her fingers over her ears and -ran away. “It’s awfully late,” she explained, -“and besides, I shall want to go to the dance -more than ever if you make up a lovely story -about it. So good-night.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV<br /> -<span class="smaller">A REAL ADVENTURE</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Madeline’s</span> cousin Edmond, who was motoring -about Brittany with a friend, took the -girls to the quaint old shrine of Mount St. -Michel and promised them other expeditions -equally delightful if they would only stay on -for a few days longer at Saint Malo or Dinard. -But Mrs. Hildreth felt anxious to get to Paris, -which was really the goal of all her trips -abroad, and Babbie had her own reason—the -countess’s ball,—for not wanting their arrival -delayed beyond the appointed day. -Babe couldn’t have explained even to herself -why she wanted to be in Paris, but she did. -And Betty and Madeline, not wishing to be in -the opposition and being sure of a good time -either way, were perfectly satisfied with Mrs. -Hildreth’s decision to go on just as they had -intended.</p> - -<p>“And we’ll go to Madeline’s pension, shan’t<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</span> -we, mummie?” asked Babbie, a trifle anxious -lest Mrs. Hildreth should insist on the hotel -where she always stayed.</p> - -<p>“And it’s just as ordinary and commonplace -as if it were in New York,” Babbie had told -the girls sadly, with a newly awakened perception -that her traveling had hitherto been -of a very commonplace variety. But Mrs. -Hildreth only asked what were the especial -merits of Madeline’s pension.</p> - -<p>“She won’t tell,” explained Babbie, looking -beseechingly at Madeline, who only returned -a serene smile. “She just says it’s queer and -quaint and the kind of thing we all like, and -that we can see what it’s like, if we go there.”</p> - -<p>“But if we don’t go there, you simply must -describe it, Madeline,” said Betty so solemnly -that Mrs. Hildreth laughed and declared they -would patronize Madeline’s pension.</p> - -<p>Finally, after a long day’s ride in the Paris -express and a drive across the city in the queer -taximeter cabs—where you sit and watch the -distance and the francs for the fare, pile up in -the indicator and forget, in the absorbing interest -of this occupation, to look around you -at the sights of the strange city—the driver<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</span> -of the first cab stopped before a blank wall in -a narrow, rather dirty street. Upon being -admonished by Babbie that he was wrong he -pointed inexorably at the number on the wall, -and even Babe, most ardent admirer of Madeline’s -theories, gave a gasp of dismay. The -two girls were with Mrs. Hildreth, while Betty -and Madeline were behind, and Marie was in -a third carriage with most of the baggage.</p> - -<p>“Careful, Babe,” Mrs. Hildreth whispered. -“We don’t want to hurt Madeline’s feelings—nor -Mademoiselle’s.” For Madeline had -written ahead for rooms, and when the porter -opened the door in the high and dingy wall, -a pretty Frenchwoman was running across -the graveled courtyard inside, eager to greet -her guests.</p> - -<p>“We’ll stay here to-night,” Mrs. Hildreth -decided hastily, “and then in the morning I -can easily make an excuse to change.”</p> - -<p>Mademoiselle was certainly charming, if her -front door—or front gate—was not. Smiling -and chatting, she led the way across the court -to the old stone mansion and helped her two -little maids show the party up-stairs and settle -each one’s baggage in the room she chose.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</span> -Madeline, Babe and Betty had single rooms, -all looking out on still another court. This -one was shut in on three sides by ivy-covered -stone walls, and shaded by a great magnolia -tree; and enticing little green tables, like those -in the cafés at Saint Malo, stood about here and -there. The rooms themselves were long and -narrow—just like cells, Babe declared with a -shiver—and as soon as she was dressed she -went down into the courtyard to wait for dinner. -When the girls found her she was sitting -on the gravel scratching the back of a big turtle, -which, she joyously informed her friends, was -attraction number one of Madeline’s pension.</p> - -<p>“Its name is Virginia—no, that’s not right. -What’s the French of Virginia? Virginie, -then. And it knows its name, only it won’t -answer unless it knows you. At least, that’s -what I understood Mademoiselle to say. I’m -scratching its back so beautifully that it ought -to follow me around like a dog hereafter.”</p> - -<p>Attraction number two was a very good dinner, -and attraction number three was going to -bed by candle-light, which made the tiny -rooms seem more like cells than ever. But<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</span> -Betty suggested that they were more like nuns’ -cells than prisoners’, and Babe said she liked -the idea of being a nun—it was very much -like being a man-hater when you came to -think of it.</p> - -<p>Attraction number four was the best of all; -it was having breakfast in the garden. Mademoiselle -had explained that they could have -“petite dejeuner,” which means coffee or -chocolate and crusty rolls, whenever they -liked, and they had all agreed to be ready at -half-past eight—which is really very early indeed -in Europe—so as to have a long day for -sightseeing. Betty got down first and was -going into the dining-room to wait for the -others, when a servant asked her to sit in the -garden instead, and before she knew what was -happening, her breakfast appeared on a tray. -Just then Babe pulled back her curtains and -stuck her head out of the window to see how -the garden looked so early; and giving a -shriek of delight, she rushed down to eat, too. -Mrs. Hildreth hadn’t been much impressed -by Virginie or the candles, but she was -as delighted as the girls with breakfast under -the magnolia tree, and she readily agreed to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</span> -wait a little before deserting Madeline’s pension.</p> - -<p>The first thing that every one wanted to do -after breakfast was to call at the American Express -Office for mail. It had been accumulating -ever since they left London, so there was -plenty to go around—letters and papers from -home for all the party, and for Babbie a note -from Billy Benson.</p> - -<p>“He got here last night, too,” she explained, -“and he’s still with Mr. Trevelyan, so evidently -it’s all right about the name. He -wants our address and says he’ll be around -to see us late this afternoon, and possibly Mr. -Trevelyan’s sister may come, too. He was telephoning -her while Billy wrote. Oh, dear, I -don’t believe mother’s going to want me to go -to the dance, after all. But I’ll answer this so -they’ll know where to find us.”</p> - -<p>Initiating Betty and Babe into the delights -of Paris was an exciting task, and by the middle -of the afternoon they were all quite ready -to go home, put on their thinnest dresses, and -drink iced tea under the magnolia tree while -they waited for the advent of Billy and Mr. -Trevelyan. It was six o’clock, however, before<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</span> -the men arrived, hot, tired, and in Billy’s -case, somewhat out of temper.</p> - -<p>“It’s an awfully out-of-the-way street,” he -complained. “Why, Trevelyan knows Paris -like a book, but he couldn’t find it. We’ve -walked and walked and asked and asked. We -were late starting in the first place, though, -because Trevelyan’s sister didn’t come.”</p> - -<p>“It’s very odd,” Mr. Trevelyan put in. -“She was to have come to our hotel at three, -after doing some shopping with her friend. -It was perfectly understood, but we waited -till four and she did not come. I am sure -only some unavoidable accident has prevented -her joining us.”</p> - -<p>“Surely your mother will let you go all -the same to-morrow?” Billy asked Babbie.</p> - -<p>Babbie looked doubtful. “I don’t know. -Not that she would blame your sister, Mr. -Trevelyan; but she’s awfully particular about -chaperons and she isn’t strong enough to -chaperon me to dances and things herself. -She’s lying down now, but I’ll write you the -first thing in the morning. Will that be -soon enough to decide?”</p> - -<p>“Sure,” said Billy gaily, “only we thought<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</span> -—Trevelyan has errands to do in the morning, -but he suggested that we meet in the -early part of the afternoon for a little sight-seeing. -You could let us know then, you -see.”</p> - -<p>“If you haven’t been to the Louvre yet, -we might have a look at that together,” -suggested Mr. Trevelyan gravely. “I understand -some of the finest galleries are to be -closed next week for repairs.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’m so glad you warned us in time,” -said Madeline. “I’m always missing things -at the Louvre because they’re closed for repairs. -Where shall we meet and when?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Trevelyan suggested two o’clock, at -the main entrance by the umbrella stand, -and then he rose to go. “I am worried -about my sister. If she has sent no word I -must wire,” he said.</p> - -<p>Billy rose too. “I should never find my -way back alone,” he said. “I’m dumb as -an oyster over here. It’s great being with -some one who knows the ropes.”</p> - -<p>The girls protested against their going so -soon, when they had expended so much time -and trouble in coming, but Mr. Trevelyan<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</span> -insisted that he must get back at once, and -Billy laughingly declared that the girls would -have to see him safely home if he stayed and -then he would have to see them safely back, -and so ad infinitum.</p> - -<p>When Babbie consulted her mother about -the dance, Mrs. Hildreth listened to the story -of the boys’ call, and after a little consideration -decided that she couldn’t allow Babbie -to go.</p> - -<p>“Billy is a dear boy,” she said, “and his -friend seems a thoroughly nice fellow, but -I couldn’t think of letting you go to a dance -with them out in some suburb of Paris, unless -I knew you were in charge of a sensible, careful -chaperon. Mr. Trevelyan’s sister may or -may not answer the description. We have -no idea how old she is, or what sort of person -she is, or whether she even understands from -her brother that you would be in her charge. -Evidently you wouldn’t be while you were -going and coming. Oh, it’s quite impossible.”</p> - -<p>And Babbie admitted sadly that it was. -She brightened at once, however. “If I’m -as sleepy to-morrow night as I am to-night,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</span> -I shouldn’t enjoy it. After all, you can go -to plenty of dances at home, and you can’t -go to these fascinating galleries and museums -and churches. I should waste to-morrow and -perhaps the day after if I went to the dance. -Now I can go ahead and get as tired as I like -seeing things.”</p> - -<p>So Babbie and Madeline conducted the -novices to Notre Dame, took them up in the -tower to get a near view of the gargoyles, and -then hunted up the shop on the Rue Bonaparte -where you can buy small plaster gargoyles, -exactly like those on the cathedral -for two francs and fifty centimes each. It -took so long to decide which Roberta would -prefer, and which was best suited to K.’s taste -and to Rachel’s, that the girls had to snatch -a hasty luncheon at an English tea-room near -the Louvre in order to be at the appointed -rendezvous by two o’clock. But they did get -there exactly at the appointed time, in spite -of a little dispute between Babbie and Madeline -about which was the “main entrance” -to the Louvre. However, Babbie was speedily -convinced that the main entrance was the -one that had been built for the main entrance<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</span> -—the one with the splendid façade and not -the one at the opposite side that happened to -be more conveniently situated and was consequently -most used by visitors. However, -when they had waited fifteen minutes and -the men had not appeared, the subject began -to be agitated again.</p> - -<p>“Well, what does it matter?” demanded -Babbie, who hated to be kept waiting and was -consequently rather out of temper. “They -can reason the thing out just as well as we -can. If they’ve gone to the other entrance -and don’t find us there, they can come here. -It’s their place to find us, not ours to hunt for -them.”</p> - -<p>“I think it’s silly to stick here, just the -same,” said Babe. “Why don’t Madeline and -I walk through to the other entrance and see -if they’re there?”</p> - -<p>“Because they ought to do the walking,” -persisted Babbie. “They asked us to come -and meet them, and anyhow it’s always the -man’s place to do the hunting. I’m not going -to have you chase up Billy Benson to tell -him whether or not he’s going to take me to a -dance to-night.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</span></p> - -<p>Whereupon Madeline murmured that it was -Babbie’s party, not hers, and Babe and Betty -declared they would wait until exactly quarter -to three and then they were going to see the -Mona Lisa.</p> - -<p>And at quarter to three they went, Babbie -giving a reluctant consent to their making -a detour past the other possible rendezvous. -But Billy and Mr. Trevelyan were not there, -and when Madeline inquired of the very stolid -guard he only shrugged his shoulders and -said there had been any number of young men -passing in since two o’clock. Some had waited, -some not.</p> - -<p>“Seems to me Mr. Trevelyan isn’t such a -good conductor as he has the reputation for being,” -said Betty. “Yesterday he didn’t meet -his sister, and nearly didn’t find us, and to-day -his arrangements haven’t worked out very -well.”</p> - -<p>“Well, fortunately it doesn’t matter,” said -Babbie, sitting down with a rapturous little -sigh before the Mona Lisa. “The pictures -are here, and after we’ve seen a few we can go -and have some of those little boat-shaped strawberry -tarts that we saw in the patisserie window.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</span> -If they’d taken us somewhere to eat we -should probably have had to have stupid -ices.”</p> - -<p>“And the moral, as our friend Mary would -say,” laughed Madeline, “is that when you’re -hunting alone you can do as you please, which -is an advantage that our friend Mary has forever -forfeited. Who votes to have the strawberry -tarts soon?”</p> - -<p>“Maxim for travelers,” said Babe, dejectedly, -“‘when you’ve had enough, stop,’ and -enough is what you can see in just a little -more than half a day.”</p> - -<p>So the girls had crossed the Seine on the -top of a lumbering tram, and walked from the -Luxembourg Gardens, where a concert was -going on, to the queer little street where Madeline’s -pension was hidden; and they had -cooled off, rested, and dressed for dinner before -a maid brought Babbie a card—Billy -Benson’s.</p> - -<p>“Ask him into the garden and say I’ll be -there in a moment,” Babbie ordered, and went -down after a perfectly needless delay, by way -of preliminary discipline, prepared to receive -Billy’s excuses coldly and to give him a very<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</span> -unhappy quarter of an hour in return for the -annoyance he had caused her earlier in the -afternoon.</p> - -<p>But Billy made no excuses. Instead he announced -blandly, “Well, I’m two hundred -dollars poorer than I was last night and a -good deal wiser, and I feel like a young idiot; -but it certainly makes a good story, if that’s -any consolation.”</p> - -<p>Babbie stared. “What do you mean? Why -aren’t you on your way to your dance?”</p> - -<p>Billy grinned. “Dance is off—that is, -Trevelyan is dancing somewhere, I guess, but -all I get is a chance to pay the piper. You -see, it was this way—well, I’ll have to begin -with this morning.”</p> - -<p>“Wait,” commanded Babbie, crossing to -Babe’s window and giving the B’s familiar -trill. “Come down, all three of you,” she -called, when Babe’s head appeared between -the curtains. “Mr. Benson has had a real -adventure, and we’re on the edge of it ourselves.”</p> - -<p>“You’re the causes of the final catastrophe,” -accused Billy smilingly, as Babbie came back -to him. “If you’d made the proper connections<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</span> -with us this afternoon, Trevelyan couldn’t -have pulled off his grand dénouement. Where -were you, anyhow?”</p> - -<p>“Right where we belonged,” said Babbie -firmly. “You begin with this morning, and -we’ll fill in our part when the time comes.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV<br /> -<span class="smaller">A NOISY PARISIAN GHOST</span></h2> -</div> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Makes</span> me feel like the greenest variety of -green freshman,” said Billy, when he had -shaken hands all around, “but still I do think -he managed awfully well, and that he’d have -taken in almost anybody with his smooth -stories. Of course I haven’t traveled much, -but still——”</p> - -<p>“Do go ahead and tell us about his taking -your money,” begged Babbie impatiently, -“and then we can discuss him to our hearts’ -content.”</p> - -<p>Billy nodded assent. “Well,” he began, -“you all know about our coming over to Paris -together. Naturally, as I can’t speak French, -Trevelyan chose the hotel—one he knew about -on the Rue de Rivoli—and our rooms opened -together.” Billy chuckled. “I thought of -that when I gave him the money. Made me -feel extra sure about getting it back.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</span></p> - -<p>“Do go straight along,” commanded Babbie. -“If you don’t you’ll never get to the -robbery part.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, it wasn’t a robbery,” laughed Billy. -“It was something much smoother. I’ll get -to it in a minute. You know already about -our going sightseeing yesterday and then coming -here. Well, when we got home there was -a note from Trevelyan’s missing sister.” Billy -paused. “Come to think of it, I didn’t see that -note. But if I had, it might have been faked -just the same. Anyhow Trevelyan said there -was a note from his sister to say that the -countess was prostrated by the heat, and -they’d had to hurry home right after lunch. -That sounded perfectly reasonable. It was a -beastly hot day, and of course if the countess -was sick, somebody had to go home with her. -The sister said also that she was beginning to -be in a hurry to get into her own house, and -Trevelyan said that if I didn’t mind he -guessed we’d better do a little shopping this -morning. It seems that his sister had ordered -different things for the house put aside for his -approval, and he was to go to the shops and -look at them and have them sent out.” Billy<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</span> -paused reflectively. “Sounds reasonable -enough, doesn’t it?”</p> - -<p>The girls nodded. “Do go on,” urged -Madeline.</p> - -<p>“Well,” Billy took up the tale, “this -morning we started out in a taximeter cab. -First we went to two or three big stores and -Trevelyan looked at rugs and curtains and -one thing and another that his sister had -selected and ordered them sent out to their -house. At least he said so. My not speaking -French made me an easy mark for any tale -he wanted to tell me. Once or twice he -counted his money to see if he had enough to -do one more errand with before we went to -the bank. It was too early to go when we -started.”</p> - -<p>“Did he actually pay for the curtains and -things?” asked Babe.</p> - -<p>Billy hesitated. “I—well, I guess I didn’t -notice. Judging by the sequel I’m pretty -sure he didn’t. But he pretended that he -had, and finally he said we must go to the -bank next. I waited in the carriage. When -he came back he was awfully put out. It -seems there is a rule in this town that you<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</span> -can’t draw money from a bank—from that -one where he had his account anyway—until -you’ve been here three days. Something to -do with the police regulations about foreign -visitors. His three days wouldn’t be up till -to-morrow, so he couldn’t draw any money. -He said he’d known the rule before but he’d -forgotten about it.”</p> - -<p>“Well, couldn’t his shopping wait a day?” -asked Babe.</p> - -<p>“All but one item,” answered Billy -solemnly. “You see the ball to-night was to -be in honor of his sister’s birthday, and he -wanted to take her a birthday present. -She’d chosen that, too, at his request, and -we went to look at it. It was a beauty of -a pearl pendant. Trevelyan told the shop-keeper -how he was fixed, and ordered the -pendant kept for him until to-morrow. -Naturally I asked if I couldn’t accommodate -him with a little loan, so we could take the -pendant out with us to-night. But he thanked -me and said he couldn’t think of borrowing -of me, and we drove off. He was awfully -cut up about the pendant, though he kept -saying it didn’t matter at all, only, as he put<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</span> -it, ‘You know how women are about such -things. They like a present at the time. If -they’re going to have a birthday, they want -their gifts on the day. By the next day -they’ve forgotten all about it.’ But this time -it couldn’t be helped, he said, and it didn’t -really matter. And then he’d remark again -that he was afraid his sister would be awfully -disappointed, especially as he’d made a point -of her picking out the pendant and all. But -when I offered to lend him some money again, -he seemed almost hurt and refused quick as a -flash. Finally he changed the subject, said it -was a shame to make me waste a morning in -Paris over his private affairs, and asked me -where we should go sightseeing. It made me -feel awfully small to think how considerate -and unselfish he was, and I pulled out all the -money I had and fairly forced it into his -hands. He seemed pleased and thanked me -but said it wouldn’t be any use to him because -it wasn’t enough. The pendant cost fifty -pounds, and he needed forty to make up what -he had. So I thought how we were to be together -all the afternoon at the Louvre with -you girls and at the ball in the evening, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</span> -then sleeping in adjoining rooms, and in the -morning he could get his money all right. -So I stuffed my beggarly thirty dollars into -my pocket, and told him to tell the man to -drive straight to the American Express, so I -could get two hundred dollars’ worth of checks -cashed.”</p> - -<p>“And that time he didn’t object?” asked -Betty.</p> - -<p>Billy shook his head. “Told me I was a -good fellow, wrung my hand till it ached, and -assured me that it was only a day’s loan or he -wouldn’t think of taking it. Then we got -the money, had a gay little lunch, and -stopped at our hotel on our way to meet you. -I didn’t go in. Trevelyan wanted to change -his coat for a lighter one, because it had -turned so hot. He stopped for the mail to be -distributed, so he was gone some minutes, and -we were ten minutes late in meeting you.”</p> - -<p>“And then you went to the wrong place,” -said Babbie severely.</p> - -<p>“You can’t blame me for that,” returned -Billy. “I asked right away if there could be -any mistake about the meeting-place and -Trevelyan said no. Later he explained that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</span> -there was another principal entrance, though -he didn’t suppose any one would consider it -the main one, and he suggested that I wait -while he went to look for you at the other entrance -and in some of the galleries. He’d -been gone about five minutes when I remembered -my two hundred dollars, saw through -his little game, and started in hot pursuit.”</p> - -<p>“And he got away?” demanded Madeline -eagerly.</p> - -<p>“Without trying. You see, he’d packed up -his traps while he waited for the mail to be -distributed, and he had probably kept the cab -waiting to drive him back to our hotel whenever -he managed to shake me off. It’s almost -across from the Louvre and I didn’t see a cab, -so I ran. But when I got there he was gone, -bag and baggage—by a back way at that, so -the hotel has lost a little to keep me company. -It was a perfectly reliable hotel, you understand—one -of the first few in Baedeker.”</p> - -<p>“And have you been to the police?” -asked Babe excitedly. “They ought to help -you catch him.”</p> - -<p>Billy smiled delightedly. “Then you don’t -see the joke, either. The hotel people promised<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</span> -to inform the police, and I went to see the -American consul. He put me on to the fact -that I haven’t a thing against Trevelyan. I -lent him the money voluntarily—pressed it -upon him, in fact. The police can’t help me. -I’ve ‘done’ myself.”</p> - -<p>“You’re awfully cheerful about it,” said -Madeline approvingly.</p> - -<p>“I wasn’t at first,” laughed Billy, “but it’s -such a good story—or it would be if we knew -all the fine points, such as whether or not -there is a sister or a countess.”</p> - -<p>“But he telephoned the sister,” suggested -Babe.</p> - -<p>“May have telephoned thin air,” said Billy. -“It was in a booth, so no one knows what he -did.”</p> - -<p>“But the countess sent the invitation,” put -in Betty.</p> - -<p>“And I saw Trevelyan mail the answer,” -added Billy. “But he may have redirected -it on the sly to some of his confederates. He -must have at least one in Paris, I think, to -manage getting the mail back and forth.”</p> - -<p>“Do you still think it’s all right about his -having two names?” asked Babbie. “Did<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</span> -you depend on what he told you about that, -or did you make other inquiries?”</p> - -<p>“About his having two names?” repeated -Billy questioningly.</p> - -<p>“The two that Betty wrote John about,” -Babbie reminded him.</p> - -<p>“I haven’t the least idea what you’re talking -about,” Billy persisted. When Betty -had explained, he assured her that John -never got her letter. “But Trevelyan -must have counted on your letting us -know,” he said. “Gee! but he had nerve to -keep on when he knew he was suspected. I -wonder—do you suppose that had anything to -do with his not finding you sooner yesterday? -My cab-man didn’t have the least trouble to-day, -I noticed.”</p> - -<p>“And he sat near you while you were here. -I remember that,” contributed Babe. “But -how about the dance? What was his object in -planning that?”</p> - -<p>Billy hesitated. “The consul gave me a -good fatherly talk, and he had a pretty gruesome -suggestion about that ball. He says -Fontainebleau—that’s where the countess lives, -you know—is on the edge of a great forest,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</span> -and that you could get a stranger out there -and drive him off somewhere and rob him -without half trying.” He turned to Babbie. -“Do you remember our guying him about -your money and your ring? Well, I think -that was undoubtedly his scheme. But when -you hung back and he knew that you had -probably heard Miss Wales’s story, why then -he cooked up a substitute. My checks wouldn’t -have been safe plunder, so there was no use in -holding me up.”</p> - -<p>Babbie shivered. “I guess on the edge of a -real adventure is as near as I want to be. Think -of being driven into a forest and robbed!”</p> - -<p>Billy looked very solemn, too. “Please -don’t think of it,” he advised her. “I’d have -given a lot more than two hundred dollars to -keep you out of a thing like that.”</p> - -<p>“Have you got your passage home?” asked -Betty, so seriously that every one burst out -laughing.</p> - -<p>“I have,” Billy assured her, “all nicely -paid for. And I shan’t send home for more -money, not if I have to pawn the beautiful -garments that I had made on Bond Street, expressly -for the countess’s ball. How Trevelyan<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</span> -must have enjoyed watching me order those -clothes! Well, he deserved to get some fun -out of it. Sight-seeing with me probably bored -him awfully, if he wasn’t as new to London as -he pretended to be, and all his clever little -contrivances must have kept him working -overtime. Lots of honest men earn two hundred -a month without taking half the -trouble.”</p> - -<p>“I’m confirmed in my belief that he was -French,” declared Madeline. “He certainly -must have plenty of friends in Paris. He -probably was in hiding in Australia while -one of his bold, bad adventures was being forgotten -over here.”</p> - -<p>“Then he must have been there some little -time,” said Billy, “for his stories certainly -had local color all right. But I don’t think -I should depend much on his advice if I were -John Morton. John and he got quite -chummy over the prospects for sheep-raising -out there. By the way, John ought to be -over here before long. Won’t it be fun springing -all this on him?”</p> - -<p>“The best of it is,” said Madeline, “that -the more you think about it the nicer it gets.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</span> -It’s all so clever and finished—and—well, -typically adventurous, from the minute he inquired -of you about that London Club until -he vanished down the passage at the Louvre -this afternoon. It’s so interesting to wonder -what he thought and how he felt as he played -his cool little game.”</p> - -<p>“Only it wasn’t a game,” Babe objected. -“It was business. Think of making friends -with people just so you can rob them afterward! -I always thought chewing gum was -about the silliest kind of a business, but I’d -rather have my father in chewing gum than -in adventures.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hildreth came into the garden just -then and the girls pounced upon her with -their exciting story, making Billy stay to dinner -to help them tell it properly. At her -plate Betty found a letter which had been -sent direct to the pension instead of to the -express office.</p> - -<p>“I wonder who knows I’m here,” she said, -tearing open the envelope, which was addressed -in a strange hand.</p> - -<p class="p2b">“Probably an advertisement,” suggested -Madeline.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<a id="illo5"><img src="images/i_284.jpg" width="400" alt="THE GIRLS POUNCED UPON HER" -title="" /></a></div> - -<p class="caption">THE GIRLS POUNCED UPON HER</p> - -<p class="p2"><span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</span></p> - -<p>But it wasn’t. It was Betty’s letter to John -Morton, with “not found” written boldly -across the address.</p> - -<p>Billy inspected it eagerly. “That’s not his -writing, but it’s his work. Nobody else could -have sent it here. So he did scheme to keep -us apart! That was why he took us to the -wrong station to see you off.”</p> - -<p>“And why he kept you out so late the -night before,” put in Madeline. “We might -have tried to telephone you about the name -then. But I don’t see why he returned -Betty’s letter. He might just as well have -thrown it away.”</p> - -<p>“Things you throw away leave tracks behind,” -said Billy wisely. “But more likely -he did it for the joke—timing it to get here -to-night and all. Following all his moves is -like going to a cobweb party. It will take us -weeks, and then we shall miss some of the -best points.”</p> - -<p>As he was saying good-night Billy gave a -sudden exclamation. “I’ve got to go back to -London to-morrow to meet the crew, and I’d -forgotten all about it. Well, I guess I’ve -seen as much of some sides of Parisian life as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</span> -most fellows could in three days, even if I -didn’t get further than the front entrance of -the Louvre.”</p> - -<p>That night Babbie Hildreth slept lightly -and dreamed strange dreams. About midnight -she knocked the B’s knock on Babe’s -door.</p> - -<p>“No, I’m not sick, and I haven’t been -robbed,” she said, in answer to Babe’s plaintive -inquiries. “But there’s a ghost on my -side of the house, and all the rooms around -me are empty, so you couldn’t expect me to -stay there all by myself.”</p> - -<p>“Ghosts are your specialty,” murmured -Babe, sleepily.</p> - -<p>“Well, we’re not supposed to pursue our -specialties alone,” objected Babbie. “I -thought you’d be interested. Honestly it’s -the funniest thing,” she went on earnestly. -“Some one knocked on the gate, because he -was locked out, I suppose, softly at first and -then louder and louder. But now the gate -has been opened, and still the person stands -and knocks and knocks. It’s a man, I think.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps he’s drunk and doesn’t know -enough to come in,” suggested Babe.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</span></p> - -<p>“No, he knocks as if he had a definite, sensible -reason,” said Babbie decisively. “Hark! -He’s actually pounding now. I hope Mademoiselle -will turn him out in the morning, that -is if he’s a boarder and not a ghost trying to -wake up the person that it has come back to -haunt.”</p> - -<p>“Whatever he is, he’s stopped to rest,” said -Babe. “If he doesn’t begin again you’d be -willing to go back to bed, wouldn’t you? Or -I’ll go back and you can stay here.”</p> - -<p>“Listen.” Babbie clutched Babe’s arm. -“There’s a noise on the stairs.”</p> - -<p>There was, and presently it came nearer -down the hallway to the door. It was a queer -noise like a stealthy step with a dull thump -accenting it sharply now and then. Presently -it stopped, somewhere out in Babbie’s hallway, -there was the click of a key in a lock, -and then the steps began again, coming slowly -back through the hall and down the stairs.</p> - -<p>“Does sound ghostly,” admitted Babe, -“and it doesn’t sound a bit drunk. And it -can’t be a boarder because it’s going out -again.”</p> - -<p>“Well, as long as it’s gone, I guess I dare<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</span> -to go back,” said Babbie presently. “You -watch me down the hall, Babe.”</p> - -<p>“Stay here, if you’d rather,” Babe offered -again, but Babbie insisted that she wasn’t -afraid and went off, her candle flickering in -the draughty passageway. The next thing -Babe knew the sunshine was sifting through -the branches of the magnolia tree and her -watch said half-past eight o’clock. So, forgetting -that it had been half an hour fast the -night before, she dressed in a tremendous -hurry and was astonished when she peeped -out from behind her curtains as usual to see -who was down, to find only a solitary gentleman -breakfasting in the farthest corner of the -garden.</p> - -<p>“Why it looks like—it is John Morton,” -she said to herself. “Now what in the world -is he doing here, I should like to know?” -And she sat down on the edge of her bed in -a fashion that seemed to say, “If any one -thinks I’m going down to breakfast now, he’s -much mistaken.” But the very next minute -she jumped up again, surveyed herself anxiously -in the glass, and, without stopping to -get Madeline and Betty, as the first one to be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</span> -ready always did, marched down-stairs and -out into the court. Her start of surprise -when she came into sight of John would have -secured her a part in the senior play at Harding, -but John was so surprised himself that -any bungler could have taken him in.</p> - -<p>“You here?” he gasped.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Babe, coolly. “Didn’t you -know it?”</p> - -<p>“Of course not. Some friend of Dwight’s -gave us the address. It’s very near to the -big library where he’s got to bone.”</p> - -<p>“I see,” said Babe. Then there was a -long and dreadful pause. At last Babe broke -it. “I presume he won’t care to move. -Don’t let’s act like sillies. Let’s be perfectly -nice and friendly, so no one will know how -you—how we feel. For instance, if I go off -now into another corner of the garden every -one will want to laugh at us.”</p> - -<p>“Do sit down here by all means,” said -John politely, springing to draw up a chair -for her.</p> - -<p>There was another pause.</p> - -<p>“I suppose we’ve got to talk,” said John -doggedly at last. “How are the—what do<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</span> -you call them?—oh, yes, the dominant interests? -How are they coming on?”</p> - -<p>“We had a ghost last night,” said Babe -primly. “It was trying to haunt some one -in the house apparently. It banged and -banged——”</p> - -<p>“Why that was me,” said John with an -ungrammatical suddenness that broke the -ice. “You see Dwight and I got here about -eight and after we’d settled our traps we went -for a walk. Dwight got sleepy and came -back, but I tramped pretty nearly all over -Paris, I should say. And when I got here -at last, I happened to think that I didn’t -know the way to my room well enough to -risk finding it alone. So I called up the -porter. He thought I only wanted the gate -opened, and it seems he has it fixed so he -can do that without getting out of bed. But -I pounded and pounded until he decided I -was crazy, and came to put me out. And I -finally made him understand the fix I was -in.”</p> - -<p>“You made the queerest noise coming up-stairs,” -said Babe. “It sounded too ghostly -for anything.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</span></p> - -<p>“The porter has a wooden leg,” explained -John, “so he can’t go quietly. He made all -the noise that was made inside the house. -I’m very sorry I woke you all up and frightened -you.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, we aren’t so nervous as all that,” Babe -assured him gaily, and was frightened to see -how friendly her words sounded. “Babbie,” -she called hastily, as Babbie appeared in the -doorway, “come and see the noisy Parisian -ghost and tell him about the ghostly disappearance -of his dear friend Mr. Trevelyan.”</p> - -<p>Under cover of the story, Babe disappeared.</p> - -<p>“You silly, silly thing,” she whispered, in -the seclusion of her nun’s cell, “you’re glad -to see him when you’re not sure he’s glad to -see you. Don’t try to deny it, because it’s -true. But don’t you dare to let him know -it. When he says he’s sorry he was so horrid -you can decide what to say, but not before. -I hope you’ve got pride enough to be a man-hater -as long as he is a woman-hater.”</p> - -<p>Having relieved her mind to this extent, -Babe went to find Betty and told her about -John.</p> - -<p>“I rely on you to stick by me,” she said.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</span> -“The others will all try to leave us alone together, -and that’s just what I don’t want. -It’s queer how easy it is to tell you things, -Betty. I suppose that’s one reason why Mr. -Morton calls you Miss B. A.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI<br /> -<span class="smaller">THE PROGRESS OF ROMANCE</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> Babe and Betty joined the others, -they found them still talking about Mr. -Trevelyan.</p> - -<p>“Do you think now that he’s an authority -on sheep-raising in Australia?” inquired -Babe blandly of John.</p> - -<p>John flushed a little. “No, I don’t believe -I care to use his letters of introduction.” He -produced a bulky packet. “His friends -would probably give me the same sort of send-off -that he gave Billy. I suppose Billy told -you that I’d consulted him about chances out -there,” John added, looking inquiringly -around the circle.</p> - -<p>“But you weren’t serious about going, were -you?” demanded Madeline incredulously.</p> - -<p>“I certainly was,” returned John in his -stiffest manner, and Babe’s little proud face -hardened. He wasn’t sorry that he had been -disagreeable; he was just giving up Australia<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</span> -because Mr. Trevelyan had proved unreliable.</p> - -<p>After breakfast Mr. Dwight suggested that -they should all go and inspect the Pantheon, -which was so near by that the girls, thinking -they could go there “any time,” hadn’t yet -been to see it. As they started off across the -court Mr. Dwight happened to engage Betty’s -attention, and Madeline and Babbie marched -off arm in arm, leaving Babe and John together.</p> - -<p>But—“Here, Babbie,” Babe called after her, -“you’re forgetting to take care of your property. -Ghosts are your dominant interest, and -John is a ghost. Therefore you ought to look -after him, Q. E. D.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you want to change interests with -me?” asked Babbie demurely. “You’ve been -going to get a new one all summer in place of -your inaccessible chimney-pots.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” said Babe coolly, “but I don’t -want a second-hand interest. If I change, -it will be for something that nobody else has -tried. Come on, Madeline.”</p> - -<p>John accepted Babe’s prompt solution of -their difficulties, and in the rôle of “Babbie’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</span> -tame Parisian ghost”—it was Madeline’s -name, of course—coöperated with Babe and -Betty to avoid embarrassing tête-à-têtes. -Madeline and Babbie on the other hand, objected -strenuously to Betty’s enrolling herself -in Babe’s faction.</p> - -<p>“I suppose she’s told you all about it,” -Babbie said dolefully, “and made you promise -to help her. She won’t tell me a thing, but I -can see for myself that in spite of her trying -to appear so gay and lively, she’s worried and -nervous and growing thin. Just because you -discovered that match-making won’t work -you needn’t try the other thing.”</p> - -<p>“I’m only keeping her good natured,” explained -Betty laughingly. “She told me a -little, but she left out all the important points, -just as people in love always do. She doesn’t -know what she wants, and John doesn’t. -Something will turn up before long, I hope, -to help them decide.”</p> - -<p>“Of course it will,” agreed Madeline easily, -“and meanwhile all Paris is before us. Where -shall we go to-day?”</p> - -<p>“Let’s leave it to the man from Cook’s,” -suggested Betty.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</span></p> - -<p>“Victor Hugo’s house, then,” announced -Madeline promptly. “John particularly -wants to go there.”</p> - -<p>But John had promised to meet a college -friend that afternoon, and Mr. Dwight was -busy, so the four girls and Mrs. Hildreth -went off alone. When they got back John -was in the garden with a formidable collection -of railway guides and Baedekers piled on a -green table before him.</p> - -<p>“Have to be in Antwerp to-morrow at ten,” -he explained impressively, and handed Mrs. -Hildreth a telegram.</p> - -<p>“If you can really speak Dutch and French -decently,” it read, “meet me Antwerp, hotel -St. Antoine, ten Thursday morning. J. J. -Morton.”</p> - -<p>“I can’t imagine what he wants of me,” -John went on, trying to be perfectly matter -of fact, “and I’m dead sure that my Dutch -and French won’t suit him, but there’s nothing -like trying, so I shall go. See here, which -one of you told the governor that I could -speak Dutch and French?”</p> - -<p>“I did,” Betty confessed, timidly. “I hope -you don’t mind.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</span></p> - -<p>“Oh, not at all,” said John, who was -evidently trying not to appear obnoxiously -elated. “The thing I don’t understand is -why he believed you. You must have an awful -lot of influence with him to make him -think that I can do anything. Will you lend -me your precious French dictionary for the -trip?”</p> - -<p>Betty promised and went off to find -the book, while the other girls said good-bye, -and wished John a successful journey. -The telegram, it seemed, had come before he -went out for the afternoon, and he had looked -up trains and packed, and was starting in a -few minutes more for the station.</p> - -<p>When Babe got up-stairs, Betty was waiting -to waylay her. “I don’t see how I was so -stupid,” she said, “but my collar stuck into -me and it hurt so while I burrowed around in -my trunk tray for my dictionary, that I took -it off. Would you mind carrying this to John? -I’m afraid he’s in a hurry.”</p> - -<p>Babe eyed her suspiciously. “I never knew -you to be so absent-minded,” she said.</p> - -<p>“If you don’t want to go back, I can ask -Madeline.” Betty started toward the door,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</span> -but Babe reached out a hand for the little -dictionary.</p> - -<p>“I can go as well as not,” she said, and hurried -off.</p> - -<p>“Say good-bye to him for me,” Betty called -after her, and after a discreet interval went off -to find Madeline and Babbie and tell them -what she had done.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Babe had delivered the dictionary, -with explanations, and said good-bye -again.</p> - -<p>“You’ll be back soon, of course?” she asked, -and in spite of all her efforts there was a little -quiver of eagerness in her voice.</p> - -<p>“I can’t be sure.” John looked at her -hard and held out his hand. “I say, Babe, -let’s shake and be friends—real friends, not -friends for show, as we have been lately. I -was a goose about the Australian business. -Even if Trevelyan had been all right, it was -a wildcat scheme. I don’t know what my -father wants of me, but I’m hoping it’s help -with a business deal of some kind. That will -give me an opportunity to show him that I’m -not quite so no-account as he thinks, and -maybe he’ll give me a good chance next year,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</span> -if he won’t this. If I should make good with -him, will you reconsider?”</p> - -<p>Babe put her small brown hand into John’s -big one. “I’d—well, I’d consider reconsidering, -I think,” she said slowly. “Remember, -I don’t promise anything but that, and—come -back as soon as you can. Good-bye.” Babe -dashed across the garden and up-stairs like a -whirlwind.</p> - -<p>John was gone three days. The girls spent -most of the time in hunting a present for -Bob. “Some queer old thing that looks as if -it came from Europe” sounded easy enough -to find, and it was—too easy; so that each -girl had her own pet idea and couldn’t bear -to give it up. Finally, Madeline suggested -drawing lots.</p> - -<p>“Each fix a piece of cake for Virginie. Put -the four in a row, and the one whose piece -Virginie gobbles up first can have the say -about the present.”</p> - -<p>All but Babe were satisfied to save a bit of -the cake they had for luncheon. Babe, who -evidently understood Virginie’s tastes, went -out to a bakery near by and brought back a -beautiful little frosted cake with a cherry on<span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</span> -top. And Virginie made straight for the -cherry.</p> - -<p>Mademoiselle happened to come through -the garden just then, and Babe, who was beginning -to be as proud of her French as Betty -had been, rushed up to her triumphantly and -announced, “Nous avons mangé Virginie.”</p> - -<p>Mademoiselle looked horrified and amazed -until Babe pointed out the family pet and the -row of cake crumbs. “Avec gateaux,” she -added pleasantly.</p> - -<p>Mademoiselle mildly suggested that they -had “given Virginie to eat of cake,” and Madeline -asked Babe how Virginie tasted.</p> - -<p>“I don’t care,” said Babe sturdily, when -she had seen her mistake. “I eat; I feed. -It’s exactly the same thing. I eat Virginie; -I feed Virginie. Well, that isn’t, is it? Anyhow -I know how to feed a turtle if I don’t -know how to talk about it. Now come and -buy Bob’s candlesticks.”</p> - -<p>But while Madeline and Babbie were bargaining -with the shop-keeper for the pair of -candlesticks that Babe had chosen, Betty, -poking about in a dark corner, discovered a -queer thing that Madeline told her was a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</span> -Flemish lamp; and everybody liked it so -much better than the candlesticks that Babe -renounced the privilege of choosing and -joined the unanimous movement in favor of -the Flemish lamp. Then everybody wanted -one for herself, and the afternoon sped away -in the pursuit, for no antique store boasted -many of the lamps. There was a great difference -in the gracefulness of the tall standards -and the quaintness of the small hanging lamps, -and each girl insisted upon being exactly -suited before she made her choice.</p> - -<p>“A perfect nuisance to pack,” laughed -Betty on the way home, “and absolutely useless. -I can just hear Will say it.”</p> - -<p>“Not half so bad to pack as the flossy hats -you girls have been buying; they are warranted -not to break, and will make excellent -substitutes for hammers,” Madeline defended -their purchases. “Let’s take them into the -garden and see how they look all together.”</p> - -<p>Arranged on two little tables, the five lamps -looked so imposing that Mrs. Hildreth had to -be called down to inspect them and admire -the “points” of each, as its fond owner -dilated upon them.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</span></p> - -<p>In the midst of the “show,” as Babbie -called it, John appeared. His greetings were -so subdued and formal that no one dared inquire -about his trip until Betty broke the ice -by asking if any one had mistaken him for a -Dutchman again.</p> - -<p>“Not quite,” said John modestly. “I guess -you are the only ones who ever did that; but -my Dutch was all right and so was my -French. You should have seen my father -stare.”</p> - -<p>After that it was easy to see that, as Madeline -put it, he was wearing the air of the -conquering hero, decently disguised. Mr. -Morton had sent boxes of hopje, which is a -delicious kind of Dutch candy that can be -bought nowhere but at the Hague, to Betty -and Babe, and they all sat in the garden eating -it while John told his story.</p> - -<p>“Dad says he’s felt all right ever since the -day he disobeyed all his doctor’s orders at -once down in Saint Malo, so he’s kept on disobeying -them ever since. He had a big -business deal on at Antwerp—buying an -interest in a steamship line was the principal -part—and as he wanted to buy straight from<span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</span> -the men who owned the line he needed an -interpreter that he could trust. So he cabled -home, but the man he wanted was off on a -fishing trip and missed the boat.” John -chuckled. “I’m afraid he’ll pay pretty high -for those fish. Then, having implicit confidence -in Miss Wales’s judgment, he sent for -me.” He looked at Betty. “You’ve been -‘Miss B. A.,’ as dad calls you, to me this trip, -I can tell you. It’s been all my fault, I know, -the way my father has felt about me, and I -don’t blame him for not believing that I’ve -braced up. Now that he does believe it, you -can be sure I shan’t give him the faintest excuse -for changing his mind. He’s a brick, -when he gets started.” John stopped to -laugh at his absurdly mixed metaphor.</p> - -<p>The girls drifted away with their precious -Flemish lamps, and this time Babe made no -pretence of not wishing to be the last to go.</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ve made good,” said John when -they two were alone, “and if my father insists -upon it I shall go back to college and do -my best to make good there, too. Will you -wait for me, Babe?”</p> - -<p>Babe flushed and gasped. “I thought<span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</span> -you’d talk about your trip awhile first. I -haven’t decided. It’s so much more serious -somehow, now that I’ve had time to think it -over longer. Let’s just be friends for awhile, -and I guess I can decide before very long. -Don’t ask me again till I say you may.”</p> - -<p>It was now that Madeline’s pension developed -a new advantage. The garden was certainly -an ideal one for promoting a romance. -John was always down early for breakfast. -Mr. Dwight considerately came very late. -Betty and Madeline, when they were ready, -peeped surreptitiously out between the magnolia -branches, and if John hadn’t come or -was still alone they went down, ate hastily, -and found it absolutely necessary to go up-stairs -again at once. If Babe had joined him—of -course Babe never, never peeped nowadays—they -loitered in Babbie’s room until -the two in the garden had had ample time for a -leisurely tête-à-tête. Before and after dinner -the garden was the favorite loitering place, and -then again there were chances for judicious -management. But the days sped by, and still -Babe hesitated. One afternoon she had an inspiration.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</span></p> - -<p>“Maxim for travelers: ‘When in doubt -drink afternoon tea.’ I’m certainly in doubt, -and we haven’t had a real tea-drinking for -ages.”</p> - -<p>She was dressing for dinner, so she slipped -on a kimono and made a dash through the -hall to Madeline’s room.</p> - -<p>“I think we ought to have a tea-drinking,” -she announced. “Can’t we, to-morrow afternoon?”</p> - -<p>Madeline nodded. “It’s a queer coincidence -that I’ve just heard of the most fascinating -tea place. Also I had decided to make -you girls give me a going-away party there to-morrow. -I simply must be off for Sorrento.”</p> - -<p>“Is it a real tea place?” Babe inquired -anxiously. “I insist upon tea this time—not -lemonade or ices.”</p> - -<p>“Since when have you gotten so fond of -tea?” asked Madeline curiously. “In England -you always fussed——”</p> - -<p>“We haven’t had it so much lately,” explained -Babe, and departed in haste to finish -dressing.</p> - -<p>“And I never told her I was sorry she was -going,” she reflected as she brushed her hair.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</span> -“Oh, dear, it’s dreadful to have something on -your mind!”</p> - -<p>Madeline refused to give her hostesses much -idea of “the most fascinating tea place.”</p> - -<p>“I’ve never been there,” she said, “but the -woman who sits next me at dinner said it was -awfully jolly. It’s out at Robinson, a little -suburban place. There are cafés in the trees, -and you climb up as high as you like among -the branches and enjoy the prospect and the -tea.”</p> - -<p>“But mother could never climb up in a -tree,” protested Babbie.</p> - -<p>“You don’t climb trees,” explained Madeline -placidly. “You climb stairs to little -landings built among the branches, just like -the ‘Swiss Family Robinson’ house. That’s -what gives the place its name.”</p> - -<p>The Robinson party, which as a matter of -course included John and Mr. Dwight, started -out the next afternoon in high spirits. A -short train ride brought them to Robinson, -where they found a feature that Madeline’s informant -had not mentioned—sleepy little -donkeys waiting to carry them up the hill to -the tree-top cafés. To be sure Madeline and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</span> -Mr. Dwight, in their eagerness to secure the -top story of the very tallest trees for the party, -abandoned their donkeys half-way up and -went ahead on foot, with the result that they -discovered it to be a very hot day, much more -suitable for lemonade than for tea.</p> - -<p>“But we’re giving you a tea-drinking,” objected -Babe, when they were seated around -the table on the top platform, with the green -of the trees to shelter them from the western -sun and yet not hide the wonderful view of -Paris and the country between. “I shall -have tea anyway.”</p> - -<p>“Have it iced,” suggested John, but Babe -shook her head.</p> - -<p>“Regular tea,” she insisted.</p> - -<p>“Then you can have lemonade to cool off -on later,” put in Betty. “You know somebody -has got to have a second course, so we -can have something to pull up in the basket. -The first time you order, the waiter comes up; -but the second time he puts the things in a -basket, and we pull. I speak to do the pulling.”</p> - -<p>“Why can’t we start this kind of tea-room -in New York, Madeline?” asked Babbie<span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</span> -eagerly. “A three-story tea-room is even -nicer than a two-story tram. And the basket -is a beautiful feature. People would just -flock to see it work.” She pulled it up herself -by way of illustration.</p> - -<p>“Be sure to have strawberry tarts on the -menu, and I’ll flock for one,” said Mr. -Dwight, helping himself to another of the -tarts in question.</p> - -<p>“Things are more expensive in New York,” -Madeline warned him. “You won’t be able -to afford ten tarts, even if you are ravenously -hungry.”</p> - -<p>“You could call it the Peter Pan Tea-Rooms,” -put in Betty. “It’s exactly like -the last scene in the play, except that there -aren’t any fairies.”</p> - -<p>“You can’t ever be sure of that, you know, -Miss Wales,” Mr. Dwight took her up.</p> - -<p>Babe listened absently to all the idle -chatter, drinking her hot tea conscientiously -and thinking hard. And because she was -serious and silent John was also, trying to -guess at her thoughts.</p> - -<p>“The best way to tell whether you want -a thing is to think how you would feel to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</span> -have to get along without it all your life.” -Babe came out of her brown study to hear -Madeline saying it. She gave a little start, -caught Betty’s eye fixed upon her as much -as to say, “Listen to that now,” and blushed -furiously; then she looked at John and -blushed hotter still.</p> - -<p>“What in the world are you all talking -about?” she demanded. “I was thinking of -something else.”</p> - -<p>“Babbie’s elegant new clothes,” explained -Madeline coolly, “and my philosophy of -clothes, which is not to bother with them.”</p> - -<p>Babe jumped up. “I want to see the view -from the story below this, don’t you, John? -The trees are cut away more down there.”</p> - -<p>John murmured something about being -rather tired of sitting still and followed her.</p> - -<p>“Chaperon’s cue is to descend to lower -story,” laughed Mr. Dwight; but Mrs. Hildreth -decided that in this case the chaperon -would better stay where she was.</p> - -<p>The two were back in five minutes, enthusiastic -over their view.</p> - -<p>“I’m ready for my lemonade now,” announced -Babe gaily.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</span></p> - -<p>“I’m going to have another glass, too,” -added John. “You must all have another. -Babe and I want you to drink a toast.”</p> - -<p>Which is how Madeline’s going-away party -was suddenly transformed into Babe’s announcement -party—not one bit fair, Madeline -said, but amusing enough to make up. -Anyway Babe always declared that Madeline -said what she did on purpose and that -Betty coughed to attract her attention to it.</p> - -<p>“And I knew I didn’t want to do without -John all my life,” she said, “and making -up your mind is such a bother that I -wanted to have it all over with. Whenever -I’m in doubt again I shall drink afternoon -tea.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII<br /> -<span class="smaller">TELLING THE MAGNATE</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">It</span> wasn’t a real announcement party, Babe -explained carefully.</p> - -<p>“Only a private view,” suggested Madeline, -“which is not to be so much as mentioned -until Babe gives the word.”</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Babe, who had no serious doubts -of the continued approval of her family—she -had basked in it unquestioned ever since she -could remember—wrote a long letter home -and spent her last days in Paris in the garden -with John and Virginie.</p> - -<p>“You ought to be making a specialty of a -trousseau,” Babbie told her severely. “May -be you’re not going to be married for a whole -year, but just the same there are lots of things -you can get here much better than at home.”</p> - -<p>But Babe refused to be diverted to shopping -excursions. “I prefer fiancés for my dominant -interest,” she said. “They’re much less<span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</span> -wearing. Besides you’ve all given me such -lovely engagement presents. My trousseau -will have a Parisian touch from them.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Jasper J. Morton was automobiling -furiously through Germany. He wired Babe -to remind her of the boat-race and to invite her -whole party and John and Mr. Dwight to be -his guests; but he gave no address, so John -finally tore up the long letter he had written, -deciding to tell his news in person when he -and his father met in London.</p> - -<p>A day or two after the going-away party -Madeline appeared at breakfast in her traveling -suit.</p> - -<p>“My trunk has gone,” she announced, “and -my carry-all-and-more-too is strapped as -neatly as its bursting condition will permit. -And the man servant has gone to hunt me a -cab. Tell you sooner? If I had, you’d have -persuaded me to stay a day longer. Don’t -deny it, Betty Wales; I see it in your eye.”</p> - -<p>“But you’ll be back in New York in time -to start the tea-room?” inquired Babbie -anxiously.</p> - -<p>Madeline laughed. “If I don’t come, you -may have all the ideas, Babbie dear, and I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</span> -promise not to open a rival establishment. -Father is thinking of a winter in Egypt, and -I’ve ‘stayed put’ at Harding so long that it -sounds very tempting indeed. But so does a -tea-room. I’ll write you when I decide. -Good-bye. No, I hate to have people come to -the train with me.”</p> - -<p>And Madeline was off on her long journey, -blithely confident that each new experience -in life is amusing, if only you expect it to be -and waste no time in regretting such sad -necessities as missing a Harvard-Cambridge -race that you would give the world, if you -had it, to see.</p> - -<p>The others crossed to London the day before -the great event. Billy Benson met them joyously -at the station.</p> - -<p>“Sold my Bond Street clothes,” he announced, -“for just what they cost me, to a -nice little chap on the Harvard subs. Told -him he’d need ’em for the celebrations after -the race. Didn’t tell him that I was down to -my last little express check. How are you -people going to see the race?”</p> - -<p>John explained, and Billy chuckled. “Bet -I’ve seen your father. He was down at the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</span>American Express Offices this morning trying -to buy up the boat they’ve advertised as especially -for American spectators. Said he’d -pay whatever they liked if they’d refund the -money on the tickets they’d already sold and -let him have the whole thing for his party. -But they wouldn’t do it—couldn’t, of course. -He was in an awful rage.”</p> - -<p>John and the girls laughed at the description, -and Mrs. Hildreth despatched John in -haste to his father’s hotel to explain that such -magnificent accommodations were quite unnecessary. -Jasper J. Morton was still peppery -over his defeat.</p> - -<p>“Boats are all partly sold; desirable anchorages -all taken. Nothing to do but -scramble aboard with the rest of the crowd. -Maybe the girls don’t mind it; I do. When -I ask ladies to go to a boat-race, I want to do -the thing up properly.”</p> - -<p>John decided that the time was not propitious -for making his announcement, but led -up to it gently by suggesting that dinner at -one of the big hotels on the Embankment -would be a luxurious enough ending to the -afternoon’s pleasures to make the girls forget -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</span>any slight discomfort they had experienced -earlier in the day.</p> - -<p>“That’s not a bad idea,” Mr. Morton admitted -grudgingly. “Something in the -nature of a celebration of Harvard’s victory, I -suppose you mean. The London papers don’t -seem to think we’ll win, but of course they’re -prejudiced. I hope those Harvard fellows -haven’t come all this distance just to show the -English that Americans can’t row, eh?”</p> - -<p>“Benson thinks they have a chance,” John -said, and repeated Billy’s lively account of -the crew’s practice records. “But if we don’t -win,” he added tentatively, “we can celebrate -something else.”</p> - -<p>Jasper J. Morton sniffed scornfully. “The -Harvard spirit and a good race and all that? -No sir, a defeat is a defeat. If we lose, there’ll -be nothing whatever to celebrate. Don’t let -me hear you talking any nonsense of that -sort. A man who means to succeed in business -mustn’t get himself muddled about success -and failure. Be a good loser if you have -to; but don’t you ever boast about it, or celebrate -it.”</p> - -<p>So John’s mild effort to introduce the subject<span class="pagenum" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</span> -of his engagement proved futile, and he -decided to wait till morning. But morning -found Mr. Morton spinning out to Windsor in -his car, because some one at his hotel had told -him that it would be madness to go back to -America without seeing the finest royal residence -in England.</p> - -<p>“And when I got there this wasn’t a day -when it’s open to the public,” he explained to -Mrs. Hildreth on the wharf, with a stoicism -born of despair. “Well, if I live till to-morrow, -I shall be on my way to a country where -I’m glad to say that sightseeing isn’t the main -business of life. Where’s your crimson streamer, -Miss B. A.? You promised me a bow, didn’t -you?” He turned to Babe, who blushed so -red, as she pinned on the crimson rosette, that -if he hadn’t been watching so impatiently for -the boat, he would have guessed her happy -secret and saved John an anxious afternoon.</p> - -<p>“For if we lose,” John confided solemnly to -Babe, “my father will be in a horrible temper -this evening. And if I wait and tell him on -shipboard, he won’t like my doing that. And -if he’s huffy about it to begin with, he’ll never -really like it.”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</span></p> -<p>Betty was standing apart from the others, -talking to Mr. Morton, who forgot to look at -his watch and mutter that they should be late -for the race after all their trouble, as he -watched her bright face and listened to the -story she was telling.</p> - -<p>“Wish she’d break the news to him,” said -John, gloomily.</p> - -<p>“I do, too. I’ll ask her,” volunteered Babe; -and as their boat touched the wharf just then, -and the rush for good places tossed them together, -she did.</p> - -<p>But Betty only laughed at her. “Babe, -dear, you’re absurd. Run right up to him, -the two of you, and have it over. He’ll be -awfully pleased. But there’d be no sense at -all in my telling him.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, there would be, too,” protested John, -who had come up behind them. “I’m sorry -for you, Miss Wales, but it’s your destiny. -You shouldn’t have such a magic influence on -my father’s feelings if you don’t want to exert -it. Having benevolent adventures for your -special line, you’ve got to live up to the responsibilities -involved.”</p> - -<p>“But I didn’t choose that for my specialty,” -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</span>Betty persisted. “The girls just gave it to -me.”</p> - -<p>“It’s just like a ‘Merry Heart’ election,” -declared Babe solemnly. “If Harvard loses -this race, you are elected to tell. There’s no -getting out of an election, you know.”</p> - -<p>Babe wriggled in between two portly Englishmen, -pounced upon a desirable group -of chairs, sat down in one, and smoothed out -her huge crimson bow with the air of happy -irresponsibility that had won her her sobriquet -at Harding.</p> - -<p>With Mr. Morton between her and Babe, -and John at the other end of the group, there -was nothing for Betty to do but wait patiently -for another chance to remonstrate with “those -silly children.” For she quite agreed with -them that it would be very foolish indeed to -delay telling Mr. Morton any longer. He -would naturally feel hurt to think that John -had let his friends and Babe’s into the secret, -but had kept his father outside the charmed -circle of intimates. It would put them back -upon the old footing of distrust and misunderstanding.</p> - -<p>It seemed as if everybody in London was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</span> -in a boat on the river that afternoon, or hanging -over one of the bridges, or waving energetically -from one of the banks. All along -the course these were black with people, and -beside them, crowded boats fairly jostled one -another at anchor. “The Siren” steamed -up almost to the finish line before she came -to her allotted station, and John explained, on -Billy Benson’s authority, that even if they -couldn’t see the actual finish, they could be -practically certain that whoever had the lead -here would win the race.</p> - -<p>“It’s simply got to be Harvard,” said Babbie -vigorously, and then suddenly noticing -that outside of their own party everybody on -board was wearing the English colors, she -laughed. “I suppose we ought to be willing -to be disappointed, because there aren’t so -many of us—only a few hundreds in all these -millions of English people.”</p> - -<p>“If the Harvard crew has come all this -way only to lose,” began Mr. Morton testily, -and then looked at Betty and laughed. -“That’s just like me, isn’t it, Miss B. A.? Always -looking on the dark side of things, eh? -Always ranting about things going wrong?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</span></p> - -<p>Betty laughed and her eyes danced mischievously -as she looked from Babe to John. -“Never mind the race,” she began impulsively. -If she told, she certainly had a right to choose -her own time. “We’ve got something to tell -you that will make you forget there is a race. -Whether or not the Harvard crew wins, the -Harvard man you are most interested in has -won the biggest kind of a race—no, not a race -exactly,”—Betty stumbled over her metaphors,—“but, -well, the thing he wanted.”</p> - -<p>“The Harvard man I’m most interested in,” -repeated Mr. Morton blankly. “That’s John. -What’s he won?”</p> - -<p>“This is an awfully public place,” Betty -murmured. “Lean over and I’ll whisper it.”</p> - -<p>There was a breathless moment while Jasper -J. Morton blinked hard, then looked at -John for confirmation of the news, and having -received a friendly little nod in answer, -turned to Babe with a smile on his grim face.</p> - -<p>“Well, I can certainly congratulate John,” -he said, “and from the reports I’ve had lately -I can congratulate myself on John’s having -got hold of just the right person to manage -him and keep him up to the mark, so if you’re<span class="pagenum" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</span> -satisfied I guess it’s all right. And I hope -you’ll never regret it.”</p> - -<p>“I shan’t,” said Babe blithely.</p> - -<p>“And you don’t mind waiting a whole -year?”</p> - -<p>Babe shook her head smilingly. “It takes -a long while to get ready to be married, you -know.”</p> - -<p>“Because,” Mr. Morton went on, “there’s a -very good place in my business waiting for a -young man that knows how to talk ten different -languages, more or less. If he wants it -this September, he can have it. If he isn’t -ready then, why I guess we’ll have to keep -the place for him. Fellows that can talk ten -languages don’t grow on every bush.”</p> - -<p>John and Babbie had moved their chairs so -that the party now sat in a close, confidential -circle of its own.</p> - -<p>“Thanks awfully, father,” John began, “but -we’ve talked it over, Babe and I, and we’ve -decided that I ought to go back. If I leave -college now, I’ve been flunked out. I’d rather -not have that kind of record behind me.”</p> - -<p>Jasper J. Morton nodded. “That would be -my idea, but I’d leave almost any kind of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</span> -record behind me, I guess, sooner than disappoint -this young lady.”</p> - -<p>Far down the river there rose the faint -sound of cheering.</p> - -<p>“They’re coming!” cried an excitable -English gentleman with a white umbrella. -He lowered the umbrella and poked Mr. Morton’s -shoulder with it vigorously. “You’d -better stand on your chairs. It’s the only way -to see.”</p> - -<p>Nearer and nearer came the roar of applause—a -great wave of sound that caught Betty -and tossed her up on her chair and fairly took -her breath away as she saw one—two black -specks come into sight around a curve and -dash forward, until, before she knew it, they -were alongside.</p> - -<p>But just before that something had happened -in the second boat—the American boat, -alas! The third man had caught a crab.</p> - -<p>“Hi! Hi! They’re down and out now,” -shouted the excitable Englishman.</p> - -<p>“It’s Benson,” cried John.</p> - -<p class="p2b">“He’s all crumpled up in a heap,” cried -Babe in anguished tones. “Oh, he mustn’t -give out now!”</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<a id="illo6"><img src="images/i_322.jpg" width="400" alt="SOMETHING HAD HAPPENED IN THE SECOND BOAT" -title="" /></a></div> - -<p class="caption">SOMETHING HAD HAPPENED IN THE SECOND BOAT</p> - -<p class="p2"><span class="pagenum" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</span></p> - -<p>Babbie Hildreth caught at the Englishman’s -white umbrella for support—it happened to -be the nearest thing she could reach—and -leaning far forward waved her crimson streamer -wildly.</p> - -<p>“Billy! Billy Benson! Row for Harvard!” -she cried in a shrill, strained voice.</p> - -<p>“Benson! Harvard!” John and Mr. -Dwight took up her cry.</p> - -<p>The little Harvard coxswain who was pouring -water on Billy’s white face turned his -head at the cry, and Billy raised his inquiringly -and then calmly slipped back into his -place and caught his oar.</p> - -<p>“Go it, fellows!” he panted, and the crew -took up its stroke.</p> - -<p>The whole thing had taken scarcely an instant, -but the English boat was three lengths -ahead.</p> - -<p>“Go it, Harvard!” cried the party on “The -Siren.”</p> - -<p>And how they went! Nothing like that -spurt was ever known on the Thames before -or since. The English were bound to win, -but the crowd on the banks and in the boats -forgot that as they cheered the plucky Harvard<span class="pagenum" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</span> -crew, whose superhuman effort was -bringing their boat in barely a length behind -the Cambridge craft.</p> - -<p>As they passed the finish line Billy’s oar -dropped from his limp hand and he fainted -quietly into the bottom of the boat.</p> - -<p>“Tell ’em I ended game,” he murmured to -the little coxswain as he went off, and the coxswain -himself came round in the evening to -deliver the message and to assure Miss Babbie -Hildreth that she had saved the honor of the -college and that Billy would be on hand next -day to thank her in person for keeping him -from the “fluke” that every athlete dreads.</p> - -<p>“Wasn’t it lucky we came?” said Betty -Wales, climbing carefully down from her -chair, while “The Siren” whistled madly and -the crowd cheered for Cambridge’s victory, -with a shout so deafening that it made all the -noise which had come before seem like child’s -play.</p> - -<p>“Why couldn’t they have begun to pull a -little sooner?” demanded Jasper J. Morton -grimly. But the next minute he had -caught the Englishman’s hand and was shaking -it cordially. “Glad you’ve won, I’m<span class="pagenum" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</span> -sure,” he declared. “You ought to win on -your own river. I’m glad our fellows gave -yours a good race.”</p> - -<p>Then he turned to John. “Let’s cheer for -Cambridge,—a real American tiger.”</p> - -<p>So John jumped on his chair again and led -the cheer, and the English passengers responded -for Harvard.</p> - -<p>“There, Miss B. A.,” Mr. Morton turned to -Betty, “is that your idea of looking on the -bright side of things? All the same, John, -I’m disgusted with that crew. Don’t tell your -friend Benson, because he’s probably upset -enough as it is, but I’m sure I can’t see what -those boys came over here for if they couldn’t -win their race.”</p> - -<p>“If they hadn’t come they couldn’t possibly -have won it,” Babe reminded him gravely, -whereupon Mr. Morton glared at her and -then, remembering that the race was not the -main feature of the day after all, laughed -good naturedly and told such comical stories -of his motoring experiences in Germany and -Holland that the defeated Americans were -quite the merriest party on board during “The -Siren’s” homeward trip.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</span></p> - -<p>The dinner, which was a celebration in spite -of the race, was served on a little balcony -overlooking the river, gay with lights and -noisy with belated merrymakers. Then Mr. -Morton announced that he had a box at one -of the theatres, where moving pictures of the -afternoon’s race were to be the feature of the -program.</p> - -<p>“Well, it was a good race,” he admitted, -after he had seen the pictures. “They got -ahead several times and they rowed well even -when they had to take the other crew’s water, -and that last spurt was all right, only it came -too late. I hope Benson understands that we -aren’t at all ashamed of our crew, John. You -might mention it when you see him.”</p> - -<p>It is to be feared that Billy cared very little -for Jasper J. Morton’s opinion of him. -He had come out of his faint in a state of unwonted -and pathetic melancholy, only to find -himself, to his amazement and almost to his -disgust, the hero of the occasion. For awhile -he argued manfully against such an idiotic -idea, but finally he submitted to the popular -notion that his “crab” had made no difference -in the final result and that it had actually<span class="pagenum" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</span> -proved an advantage because it had inspired -that wonderful spurt that was the talk -of all London and probably of all New York. -And since Babbie Hildreth was responsible -for this turn of events (and for some other -reasons) Billy resolved to cast enforced economy -and doctor’s orders to the winds and beg -or borrow enough money to give her “the -time of her life” during his last day in London.</p> - -<p>As for Betty Wales, her eyes sparkled with -happy excitement as she went to bed that -night. A regular trip abroad would have -been fun enough, but a trip with Madeline to -hunt up the queer things, Babe to furnish a -romance, and Mr. Morton to play the good -angel and then pretend it was all her doing—so -that Dick Blake and now Babe and John -had insisted upon thanking her extravagantly—that -was a trip to make you hold your -breath and wonder how you happened to be -such a lucky, lucky girl. Betty’s last few letters -from home had been rather short and unsatisfactory.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid I ought to have kept house for -mother this summer and let her rest,” she reflected.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</span> -“And perhaps father couldn’t easily -afford to let me come. But I haven’t spent -nearly all the money he gave me, and I’ll -make mother take the grandest rest she ever -had as soon as I get home. And I can’t help -being glad I’m here.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII<br /> -<span class="smaller">HOME AGAIN</span></h2> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Three</span> busy days in London, and it was all -over but the voyage home. Billy and the -crew and John and Mr. Morton had left by -different routes the evening after the race, so -only Mr. Dwight was on hand to wave the -girls off at their boat-train. They were all -tired from trying to see too much and shop -too hard just at the last, and Babe was of -course forlorn with only a long steamer letter -to console her for John’s absence. So nobody -minded lying about on deck for the first day -or two, and after that a real storm added a -sad chapter to the girls’ seagoing experiences, -keeping all but the dauntless Babbie close in -their berths for the rest of the voyage.</p> - -<p>On the last morning Babbie and Marie got -all their charges upon deck, where they lay, -rather pale and listless from their long confinement, -enjoying the air and the sunshine.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</span></p> - -<p>“Mummie dear,” began Babbie gaily, “do -you know what I think? I think that, if you -want to keep your reputation as a chaperon, -you’d better spruce up your young charges -before you return them to their adoring -families.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Hildreth smiled faintly. “I have a -chance, haven’t I, since Babe’s mother and -Betty’s father have both had to give up meeting -the boat, and John and his father are in -Boston. How shall I do it, daughter? What -is the most effective method of sprucing up -storm-tossed collegians?”</p> - -<p>“Send them to Harding to recuperate for a -day or two,” answered Babbie with suspicious -promptness. “The freshman rains will be -just over and Mary’s house will be settled, and -it will be simply scrumptious seeing her and -Georgia Ames and everybody, won’t it, girls?”</p> - -<p>“Rather,” agreed Babe. “We could wire -Roberta to meet us there, and give her her -gargoyle and Mary her Flemish lamp. That -would be a great saving of expressage.”</p> - -<p>“And we could display Babe, the tamed and -affianced man-hater,” laughed Betty. “Only—I’m -in a dreadful hurry to get home.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</span></p> - -<p>“What’s a day?” demanded Babbie. “We -can run up this afternoon. Bob’s going to be -at the boat, and we’ll drag her along as a -beautiful impromptu feature. Honestly, I -don’t think you girls ought to start on a long -journey west without getting rested a little; -it would make you horribly land-sick. -Wouldn’t it, mother?”</p> - -<p>“It might,” admitted Mrs. Hildreth, smilingly. -“But seriously, girls, I meant to treat -you all to a side-trip to one of Babbie’s adored -villages, and we stayed on in Paris so long -that I lost my opportunity. So if you’d like -to substitute Harding, I want you all to go -as Babbie’s guests.”</p> - -<p>“I was just going to say that I hadn’t any -money,” Babe explained smilingly. “I shall -have just exactly a quarter left after I’ve paid -my steamer fees. But when the mail comes I -shall have enough for my ticket home, because -I told father to send it. And I thought -possibly that knowing me he might put in -something extra,” she added hopefully.</p> - -<p>“You could have borrowed of me,” Betty -told her proudly. “I’m so pleased to think -that I can give father back my whole ‘emergency<span class="pagenum" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</span> -fund,’ as he called the extra that he gave -me to have in case I needed it. Nan always -spends her emergency fund; she says it attracts -emergencies instead of keeping them -away. But I didn’t quite know whether you -could honestly call a trip to Harding an -emergency or not.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t have to,” put in Babbie summarily. -“You’re to call it an adorable little -out-of-the-way village. Now who packed the -gargoyles for Bob and Roberta, and where is -Mary’s lamp? You two be thinking while I -find the purser and borrow a time-table of -Harding trains.”</p> - -<p>So it happened that the three travelers, -reinforced by Bob Parker and Georgia Ames, -dined sumptuously at Cuyler’s and invaded -the Hinsdale mansion in time to catch Mary, -enveloped in a big gingham apron, washing -dishes.</p> - -<p>“The cook took French leave this afternoon,” -she explained cheerfully, when the -noisy greetings were over, “and we couldn’t -have much of anything for dinner because -she took my cook-book with her, the wretch! -I’ve sent my husband off to buy another, so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</span> -I can find out about boiling the eggs for -breakfast. You wipe, Betty; and Bob, you -and Babe go down cellar and find some drift-wood -for the library fire. It’s piled up near -the furnace. Georgia, you can be putting -away the dishes.”</p> - -<p>“The same old Mary!” laughed Bob. -“Does your husband enjoy being ordered -around?”</p> - -<p>“Of course,” said Mary sweetly. “He -considers it a privilege just as you always -did, Bob. Be sure you bring up plenty of -wood.”</p> - -<p>Five minutes later Mary divested herself -of her apron, unpinned her train, and explaining -sorrowfully that if she sat on the floor it -always attracted faculty callers, established -herself in a carved oak chair and ordered her -guests to “fire away.”</p> - -<p>“Well, to begin with, Babe’s engaged,” announced -Bob.</p> - -<p>“Oh, you mean thing!” cried Babe. “I -wanted to tell that myself.”</p> - -<p>“No, you ought to have let Betty,” declared -Babbie with decision, “as her reward -for telling Mr. Morton, you know.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</span></p> - -<p>“All right,” agreed Babe. “You tell the -rest, Betty.”</p> - -<p>“Somebody tell it quick,” begged Mary -plaintively. “I’m dying of curiosity.”</p> - -<p>So Betty “told quick,” and Bob aroused -Babe’s wrath by reminding her how it had -all been prophesied just after Mary’s wedding.</p> - -<p>“As if that had anything to do with it,” -Babe sniffed. “Besides, we’re not going to -be married for a year. You may all be married -before that—Helen Chase Adams may be.”</p> - -<p>Then Mary suddenly discovered that the -girls had some trunks with them, and she -insisted upon seeing their foreign trophies -immediately. So Bob pulled the drift-wood -fire to pieces and the other girls locked doors -and hunted Mary’s wraps, while Mary scribbled -a note of explanation to her husband.</p> - -<p>“I’ve said we’d be back here for supper,” -she told them. “Roberta ought to come at -nine-thirty and she’s sure to be hungry for -gingersnaps.”</p> - -<p>On the way they met and annexed Lucile -Merrifield and Polly Eastman, who invited -them to sit with the seniors in chapel next -morning, offered them their choice between<span class="pagenum" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</span> -dinner at Cuyler’s or the Belden, whose -matron, they declared, would be “pleased as -punch” to have such distinguished guests, -and reproached Mary hotly for not being -willing to conspire against the ten o’clock -rule by inviting them to join her supper -party.</p> - -<p>“And the moral of that,” said Mary -sadly, “is that only sedate persons with no -wicked little friends in college ought to -marry Harding professors. I hope you’ll remember -that before it’s too late, children, -and not fall in love with one. And I hereby -invite Lucile, Polly and Georgia to dinner the -very first night I have a cook.”</p> - -<p>It was great fun going through the trunks, -but it took a long time, because Mary was -constantly being reminded of desert island -experiences, which in turn suggested fresh-air -child anecdotes to Bob, and they got back to -Europe again only to be switched off on to -Harding news by Lucile or Georgia. But by -running most of the way they managed to -meet Roberta’s train,—which is Harding -style, because one never has time there to -waste on an early start.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</span></p> - -<p>And after supper, which was also Harding -style, the stay-at-homes promised to be quiet -and give the travelers a chance to tell their -adventures, and Dr. Hinsdale considerately -retired to his study so that the talk also -might be strictly Harding style.</p> - -<p>When she had listened breathlessly to the -details of the “real adventure,” and to -snatches of all the others, Mary smiled her -“beamish smile” around the circle. “Well,” -she said, “you’ve all lived up to your Harding -reputations, as far as I can see—Babbie the -Butterfly, Madeline the Bohemian, Betty a -Benevolent Adventurer.”</p> - -<p>“And the moral of that is,” put in Babbie -quickly, “what you are at home, that you will -be abroad.”</p> - -<p>“Unless you drop all your individuality -and become a Tourist, with a capital T,” added -Roberta.</p> - -<p>“Or change your spots and turn from a -man-hater into a fiancée,” suggested Bob.</p> - -<p>“That’s not changing your spots,” declared -Mary wisely. “It’s just making up your -mind, isn’t it, Babe?”</p> - -<p>“How in the world did you know that,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</span> -Mary Brooks?” demanded Babe in such awe-struck -tones that her friends shrieked with -laughter, and Dr. Hinsdale came out from his -study to ask about the joke.</p> - -<p>The girls had intended to leave early the -next afternoon, but when Georgia Ames appeared, -hovering in the Belden House hall, -before dinner was over, and announced that -she was giving a gargoyle party for them that -evening, why of course there was nothing to do -but insist that the gargoyle party should be a -“small and early,” and rush to the station to -countermand orders for carriages, and find out -about making connections with sleepers at the -junction.</p> - -<p>“For we’re not so young as we were once,” -said Roberta, hugging Betty. “We don’t have -to be met at Harding by the registrar, and we -may travel at night if we like, as long as two -go one way and three the other.”</p> - -<p>The gargoyle party was as mysterious as -Mary Brooks’s historic hair-raising had been. -Mary almost wept when Georgia asked her, -and she was obliged to decline because of a -previous dinner engagement—not to mention -the dignity of her position. She solaced herself<span class="pagenum" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</span> -by making an elaborate costume for Eugenia -Ford, a pretty little freshman who, -when Georgia asked her to the party, thanked -her gravely and explained that if gargoyles -had anything to do with gargles she wouldn’t -come, because she never could manage to do it—her -throat must be queer. Most of the -other guests professed hapless ignorance of -what a gargoyle might be, but Georgia referred -them easily to Bob’s cherished imp, -which she had borrowed for the occasion, together -with some post-cards of other grotesque -figures.</p> - -<p>“Just run in any time this afternoon, and -look them over,” she urged, “and come in costume -to-night, if you can. If not, it doesn’t -matter. Mrs. Hinsdale is going to offer a -prize for the best one, though.”</p> - -<p>So the chosen few cast English Lit. papers -and a possible—nay, probable—written review -in Psych. to the winds, journeyed down-town -to buy masks and draperies, and preëmpted all -the desirable perches in Georgia’s room, marking -them with big “Engaged” signs, which -came loose when the wind blew in next time -the door was opened, and gave the room a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</span> -disconcerting air of having been snowed under, -when Georgia got back to it just before -tea.</p> - -<p>“But we had to do it,” Eugenia Ford explained, -as she helped Georgia put things to -rights for the evening, “because the whole -point of a gargoyle is that it stands somewhere. -Lucile Merrifield said so. And the -way you put on your costume makes a difference -about where you are to sit. No, the -other way around.”</p> - -<p>“Conversely, you mean, my child,” -amended Georgia, pleasantly, putting Mary’s -five-pound box of Huyler’s on the chiffonier.</p> - -<p>“But that’s got to be cleared off,” objected -Eugenia. “That’s Miss Bob Parker’s place. -We all wanted it, but she got it tagged first. -Belden House Annie promised her a step-ladder -to climb up by, but she said a chair would -do.”</p> - -<p>Georgia sighed and dumped the ornaments -of the dresser top, cover and all, into her upper -drawer. “A gargoyle party is a thing -that grows on your hands,” she said sadly. -“Let’s go and eat. If there’s anything else -to clear off, we’ll do it later.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</span></p> - -<p>When the gargoyle party opened it was certain -that, whether or not it had grown on -Georgia’s hands, it was every bit her room could -hold. Betty and Babbie, who had been too -busy enjoying Harding to bother about costumes, -were the only guests who were not wearing -some sort of fantastic disguise. Bob had -bought a box of paints and made her own -mask, modeling it and her drapery of brown -denim after the imp that the “B. A.’s Abroad” -had given her. Eugenia Ford was a gryphon,—or -at least Mary Brooks said so,—with the -most beautiful pair of wings that had ever appeared -at a Harding party. Polly Eastman -was the elephant that sits on the tower of -Notre Dame. Georgia had planned to be the -other half of the elephant, in accordance with -Harding usage in the matter of elephants and -other four-footed creatures. But at the last -minute she discovered that the Notre Dame -elephant wasn’t four-footed.</p> - -<p>“Gargoyles never are,” said Lucile wisely—it -was she who had pointed out the mistake. -“But never mind, Georgia. You can be one -of my two heads. I was going to be a two-headed -beast if I could. Only Vesta White<span class="pagenum" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</span> -changed her mind afterward and wanted to -be an eagle.”</p> - -<p>There were other gargoyles, as impossible to -classify as the real ones, and they squatted in -rows on Georgia’s bed and her big window-box, -popped up mysteriously from behind her -desk, or lounged in strange attitudes in her -easy chairs. Bob Parker actually did get up -on the chiffonier, off the edge of which she -hung in such realistic gargoyle style that the -judges, Babbie and Betty, unhesitatingly -awarded her the prize.</p> - -<p>“Not a bit fair,” objected young Eugenia, -flapping her beautiful gryphon’s wings disconsolately. -“We should all have looked a lot -grander on chiffoniers.”</p> - -<p>“But you weren’t all clever enough to grab -the one there was,” put in Georgia pacifically.</p> - -<p>“Having a gargoyle of your own makes you -notice the attitudes more,” declared Bob -proudly. “Never mind, Miss Ford. The -prize is candy, and we’ll pass it around while -we wait for Georgia’s refreshments to materialize.”</p> - -<p>“You haven’t forgotten your Harding manners, -Bob,” said Betty severely.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</span></p> - -<p>“No, you don’t any of you act a bit like -alums,” declared a tall junior, taking off her -mask to breathe.</p> - -<p>“You lovely thing!” cried Bob, scrambling -down from the chiffonier to give the -appreciative junior first choice of the prize -candy.</p> - -<p>And then the gargoyles had a dance and a -parade, and delicious “eats,” on which Georgia -had rashly spent all that was left of her month’s -allowance. And after that, when the five -19—’s were having the very best time of all, -just sitting around talking and realizing what a -dear, dear place Harding was, it was time to pull -Bob out of her beloved costume and rush for -trains.</p> - -<p>Later in the evening the five classmates sat -in the station at the junction, Babe and Betty -waiting to go west, Bob, Babbie and Roberta -bound for New York.</p> - -<p>Babbie looked critically at Babe and Betty. -“I shall tell mother that it worked,” she said. -“You went to bed at three, and got up at -seven this morning to go canoeing. You’ve -eaten four meals to-day and as many ices. -You’ve been horseback and trolley-riding.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</span> -You’ve made dozens of calls. It’s now ten -p. m., and you’re fresh as the daisies in Oban. -How’s that for the Harding cure?”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you feel exactly as if it was some -June?” demanded Bob. “Not last June, -but a regular June, you know, and we were -all just going home for the summer.”</p> - -<p>“Exactly,” agreed everybody, and then a -sleepy silence settled upon the group.</p> - -<p>“What were those things we had in the -‘Rise of the Drama’ course?” asked Betty -Wales suddenly. “Not intervals, but something -like that.”</p> - -<p>“You mean Interludes, don’t you?” asked -Roberta. “They came right after the Moralities.”</p> - -<p>Betty nodded. “That’s what this summer -has been—an Interlude.”</p> - -<p>“With Babe for the fascinating heroine,” -put in Babbie.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” agreed Betty hastily. “And when -I get home to-morrow the real business of life -is going to begin.”</p> - -<p>“Act I, Scene I, Life of Betty Wales, -B. A.,” said Roberta. “Doesn’t that sound -serious? But it won’t be. You’ll play tennis<span class="pagenum" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</span> -with Nan, and go to dances with your brother -and other people’s brothers, and amuse that -darling little sister of yours, and be nice to -everybody who needs it, just as you always -have, except that you won’t be home on a -snippy little vacation.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I hope so,” said Betty, laughing at -Roberta’s choice of details. “But then I -want to do something that counts, too.”</p> - -<p>“You’re always doing things that count,” -Babe declared, giving her a loving little -squeeze.</p> - -<p>“That was just fun,” Betty reminded her -for the hundredth time at least.</p> - -<p>“But if fun counts, it counts,” declared -Roberta. “Just ask Madeline Ayres if it -doesn’t. If you can make fun out of hard -work, then, according to Madeline, you really -know how to live.”</p> - -<p>“But we’re not the working contingent,” -objected Babbie. “K. and Rachel and Helen -are the workers.”</p> - -<p>“They are!” breathed Bob indignantly. -“Just try taking care of certain fresh-air -youngsters for two weeks.”</p> - -<p>“Or typewriting most particular briefs for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</span> -your most particular father, who always wants -things in a terrific hurry,” added Roberta.</p> - -<p>Betty considered. “I’ve helped in little -ways of course, but I never did any one big -thing. I’m going to now, though.”</p> - -<p>“Here’s to a winter of hard work!” cried -Babe. “I shall have to sew, and I hate it.”</p> - -<p>“But you must make fun out of it all the -same,” Betty told her, with the flash of gay -courage in her eyes that had won over Mr. -Morton. “I shall, no matter what happens, -and whatever we do, think of the fun we’ll -have talking it over when we all get together -again. Oh, is that our train, Babe?” And -with her curls flying and her eyes dancing -with eagerness Betty Wales turned merrily -from her happy summer’s Interlude to “the -real business of life.”</p> - -<p class="center no-indent">THE END</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="transnote"><div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph2 nobreak"> <span class="smcap">Transcriber’s Notes:</span></p> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent">Minor corrections (addition or deletion) of double quote marks have -been made on pages 188, 196, 230 and 317, to conform to accepted -usage.</p> - -<p class="no-indent">Splended, on page 153, has been changed to splendid.</p> - -<p class="no-indent">Cooperation, on page 218, has been changed to coöperation, to conform to other -occurrences in this e-book.</p> - -<p class="no-indent">On page 270, Louxembourg has been changed to Luxembourg.</p> - -<p class="no-indent">All other hyphenation and variant and -archaic spellings have been retained as typeset.</p> - -<p class="no-indent">Illustrations have been moved to avoid interrupting paragraphs.</p> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BETTY WALES, B. A. ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. 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