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Maud simpered. "I really don't know," she replied. "I think the Count de Sonde has a beautiful soul. He tells me I have a remarkable mind--such sympathy, such understanding!"
Ruth choked over a piece of fudge. The other girls seemed to regard her accident as a tremendous joke. Maud was entirely unconscious that she had anything to do with their merriment.
"Then you really like the count very much!" exclaimed Mollie, opening her pretty blue eyes so wide that Maud was amused.
"You dear little innocent thing!" returned Miss Warren. "Of course I think the count a very interesting man. I don't deny he has taken my fancy. But as for being in love with him--well, that is another thing."
"Do you really know anything about the count, Maud?" asked Ruth. "Your father doesn't approve of him, and don't you think he knows best?"
"Oh, father never approves of any of my friends," complained Maud Warren impatiently. "But Mrs. De Lancey Smythe is on my side. She likes the count."
"But do you know much about Mrs. De Lancey Smythe?" Ruth went on.
Maud was nettled. "Mrs. De Lancey Smythe is a Virginian, and belongs to an old southern family," she returned.
The "Automobile Girls" looked uncomfortable. It was Ruth who finally spoke.
"I hope you won't be angry, Maud. It is only because we like you that I am going to tell you something you ought to know. Some one told me to warn you to be careful."
"Careful about what?" cried Maud, though her flushed face betrayed the answer she expected.
"The Count de Sonde," replied Ruth.
"But what have you heard against him?" demanded Maud indignantly.
It was Ruth's turn to flush. What had she heard? If only the countess had been a little less vague in her accusations against the count.
"I am afraid I don't know anything very definite to tell you," Ruth confessed, in an embarra.s.sed tone. "Yet we have heard rumors about the count. Foreign n.o.blemen are often fortune-hunters, you know."
"My dear Ruth, the Count de Sonde is not in need of money," protested Maud. "He is very wealthy. Only the other day he showed me a letter from his lawyer. It spoke of two hundred thousand francs. It is true the letter was written in French. But the count translated it for me. And then, of course, I know a little French myself."
"Oh, well," sighed Ruth, "perhaps we have no right to suspect him. But, Maud, I beg of you to go slowly. You may be mistaken in the count. Think how you would regret it if you were to marry him and find afterwards that he had deceived you."
"Marry the count!" Maud's tones expressed great astonishment, then she gave a satisfied laugh. "Don't worry about my affairs. The count is a real n.o.bleman," she declared.
A knock sounded at the door, and a bellboy handed Ruth a note. It was addressed to Miss Warren. Ruth gave it to her. Maud opened it. A gratified smile overspread her face, then turning to the "Automobile Girls" she said: "Will you please excuse me, girls, I want to go up to my room for a little while. I will be back in a few minutes."
The girls ate their fudge in silence for a time. Maud did not return.
"I wonder if Maud is coming back?" remarked Barbara, after a little.
"Somehow, I am sorry for Maud. It must be dangerous to be so rich and so silly at the same time."
"I am afraid Maud is hopeless," Ruth contended. "I don't believe it is going to do the slightest good for us to warn her against the count. I wonder if we could manage to save her in any other way?"
Miss Sallie came into the room. "Where is Maud Warren?" she demanded immediately.
The "Automobile Girls" could only explain Maud had gone to her room.
Miss Sallie rang the bell, and sent a maid to inquire for Maud.
The answer came back a few moments later. "Miss Warren had left the hotel for the evening with several friends."
Miss Stuart said nothing. But the "Automobile Girls" knew Miss Sallie would never forgive Maud Warren for her disobedience.
The four girls were almost ready to say good night, when another light tap sounded at their door.
The girls lowered their voices. Perhaps Maud had lost heart, and had returned to them after all.
Barbara went to the door. It was Marian De Lancey Smythe who had knocked. She wished to speak with Bab for a moment.
Five minutes later Barbara returned to her friends, looking considerably mystified.
"Now, Barbara Thurston, what did Marian Smythe have to say to you?"
demanded Mollie. "It is not fair, your having secrets with her from the rest of us."
"Oh, Marian asked me if we were going to the countess's to dinner to-morrow night," Bab replied.
"What a strange question!" exclaimed Grace Carter. "I don't see why she should care where we go to dinner."
"Perhaps she had some plan or other on hand herself that she wanted us to take part in," suggested Mollie.
Bab was silent.
"By the way," exclaimed Ruth, "did you know I received a letter to-day from darling Olive Prescott? She and Jack have arrived in Paris, and have set up housekeeping in the dearest little flat in the Rue de Varennes. They live on the top floor, and Jack has the front room for his studio. Of course Olive declares Jack is the best husband in the world. He is painting Olive's portrait for the Paris Salon, and working desperately hard so as to have it finished by April. Come, let's go to bed."
Just as Barbara was dropping off to sleep Ruth gave her a little shake.
"Tell me Barbara Thurston, what Marian De Lancey Smythe said to you in the hall!"
"I told you, child," murmured Bab hesitatingly.
"Honor bright, did you tell us everything, Bab Thurston?"
"No-o-o, not everything," admitted Bab. "This is exactly what Marian said: 'Barbara are you going to dine with the countess to-morrow night?'
'Yes,' I replied. Then she said: 'You had better not go. But if you do go, come home early, and don't ask me the reason, why."
"We'll go, sure as fate!" exclaimed Ruth. "No matter what Marian says."
CHAPTER XIII
A SURPRISE PARTY
It had been a long day of uninterrupted pleasure for the "Automobile Girls"--one of those sparkling, brilliant days that seem to belong peculiarly to Florida in the early spring.