The Automobile Girls in the Berkshires Part 20

The newcomers had a confused feeling that there were twenty or thirty guests in the drawing room; but as the butler announced their names their hostess moved forward from a group of friends to speak to them. In another moment Dorothy Morton spied them, and came up with her arm through that of a tall, middle-aged man, very slender, with closely cut blond hair and a long drooping mustache. He looked very intellectual and impressive.

"Miss Stuart, this is my father," said Dorothy simply. The Amba.s.sador bowed low over Miss Stuart's hand. He was then introduced to each of "The Automobile Girls" in turn.

The Amba.s.sador's eyes twinkled. He saw his young guests were a little awed at meeting so great a diplomatic personage.

"You are the girls, aren't you, who have been camping on one of our Berkshire hills?" the Amba.s.sador inquired. "My daughters have told me about your delightful hut. Curious, I never heard of the little cabin's existence. I want you to show me the place. Some day I may follow your example and run away to the woods for a few weeks. Dorothy tells me you will help us with our games next week."

Miss Stuart excused herself. Mrs. Latham wished to talk with her in another part of the drawing room.

"May we count on you for the Gymkana races, Ruth?" asked Dorothy Morton.

"Gymkana races!" questioned Ruth, shaking her head. "What in the world can you mean?"

"Remember," laughed her hostess, "I told you our sports were to be a huge joke. You must have a sense of humor, or you won't want to take part. You know we have horse show grounds here in Lenox. Well, the Gymkana race this year will take place over their meadow. Indeed, all the sports are to be held there. Father, you explain what the games are like," Dorothy requested.

The Amba.s.sador looked very grave.

"Miss Stuart," he asked, "will you or your friends drive a turkey, a duck, a hen, or a gander in our Gymkana race? My daughter, Dorothy, has, I believe, reserved an old gray goose as her especial steed; but you can make any other choice of racer that you may desire. The only point of the game is to get the nose of your steed first under the blue ribbon. It may take a good deal of racing and chasing on your own part to accomplish it."

Dorothy inquired, turning first to Ruth, then to Bab, Mollie and Grace, "May I put down your names for this race?"

Ruth laughed. "Certainly I shall enter," she declared. "I have as good a nerve as anyone else. You must give me time to decide on what animal I shall drive."

"I'll join, too!" Grace agreed. "Is this game for women only?"

"Yes," Dorothy replied. "Other distinguished sports are reserved for the men. What do you think of my serious-minded father? He is down for the 'egg and spoon' race. So are Franz h.e.l.ler and Mr. Winthrop Latham. I mean to ask your two men friends, Mr. Post and Mr. Ewing, to enter, too. It's great sport. The men have to run across the track carrying a raw egg in a desert spoon. The man who first gets to the winning post without a mishap is the winner. But there will be other games as well. I am just mentioning a few of them."

Gwendolin Morton approached with Franz h.e.l.ler and the tall blond girl whom "The Automobile Girls" had seen for a moment at the postoffice.

"We have to come to believe in the American fashion of introducing our friends," declared Miss Morton. "You know, in England it is not the custom to introduce people to one another at a tea party. May I present my friend, Maud Warren, to you, Miss Stuart, Miss Carter, and the Misses Thurston."

The four girls bowed. Maud Warren inclined her head slightly, giving each girl in turn a supercilious stare.

"I suppose father and Dorothy have been persuading you to take part in the nonsensical side of our entertainment next week," inquired Gwendolin.

"I am trying to look after the riding. Do any of you ride horseback well enough to go in for the hurdle jumping? I warn you, you will find it difficult to win. Miss Warren is one of the best riders in New York. She has taken prizes at hurdle jumping before, at her riding school."

Ruth declined. "I am afraid no one of us rides well enough to go in for this contest. I ride, of course, but I am not equal to the jumping."

Ruth spied Barbara looking at her with longing eyes.

"I beg your pardon, Bab!" Ruth laughed. "I had no right to decline the hurdle jumping for all of us. Would you like to try?"

"Of course, I should like to try!" Barbara exclaimed. "But I know it is out of the question. I have no horse, and I haven't a riding habit here."

Barbara turned shyly to the Amba.s.sador. "I have never done any real hurdle jumping," she explained. "But I have jumped over all kinds of fences riding through the country."

The Amba.s.sador smiled. "You need no better training for hurdle races," he replied.

"If a horse is what you need," cried Dorothy Morton, "why not use one from our stables. We have a number of riding horses. Do let me lend you one and enter the hurdle jumping contest. It is a dangerous amus.e.m.e.nt, however. I won't try it."

"Oh, I am not in the least afraid," Bab declared. "Only, if I am left at the post, and can't take a single hurdle, you must forgive me."

"Well, you understand," finished the Amba.s.sador, "our amus.e.m.e.nts are only for our own friends."

"Come here, Mollie," called Miss Stuart, from her corner of the room, where she was seated near Mrs. Latham.

"Mollie," explained Miss Sallie, as the child approached, "Mrs. Latham is much interested in our little Indian girl. Her son, Reginald, has told her of the accident to Eunice. Mrs. Latham is anxious to know to what hospital in Pittsfield Naki has taken the child. I did not ask Ruth. Can you tell us the name?"

Mollie looked at Mrs. Latham steadily. The older woman dropped her eyes.

"Eunice is not yet allowed to see visitors," she answered.

"Oh, I have no wish to call on the child," Mrs. Latham protested, "but if the Indian girl and her old grandmother are in want I shall send a man to look after them. My brother is most generous to the poor, Miss Stuart."

But Mollie went on. "Thank you, Mrs. Latham, but Eunice and her grandmother are not poor. Ruth is looking after them now. The grandmother wishes to take Eunice back to their wigwam on the hill, when the little girl is well enough to be moved."

Mrs. Latham frowned. She had her own reasons for wishing to discover the address of the Indian woman and her child. Yet she did not want to appear to be much interested.

Barbara came up to join Mollie.

"Your sister seems determined that no one shall take interest in your little Indian protegee except her own friends," declared Mrs. Latham, smiling at Bab. "Perhaps you would not object to telling me where the child is located."

"Why certainly not!" Barbara exclaimed frankly, looking in surprise at Mollie.

But Mollie interrupted her. The little girl's cheeks were burning hot.

She was conscious of her own bad manners, and of Miss Stuart's look of disappointment. Yet she spoke before Bab could continue.

"I am sorry for Mrs. Latham to think I am rude in not telling her where Eunice is staying; but it seems to me that, if her old Indian grandmother has kept Eunice hidden all these years, she must have had some good reason. It does not seem fair to me for us to talk about her just because, through an accident, we had to send her to town. I think, if the grandmother wishes to keep Eunice hidden, we ought at least to ask the old woman's permission before we tell anyone where she is staying. I am awfully sorry," Mollie ended, apologetically, "but I do feel that I am right."

Mrs. Latham was very angry. "I am sure I beg your pardon, Miss Thurston,"

she rejoined icily, before she moved away. "I meant nothing by my harmless inquiry. I can a.s.sure you I am not unduly interested in your protegee. If you wish to keep the gypsy girl's hiding place a secret, do so, by all means."

"Mollie, I am exceedingly angry with you!" said Miss Sallie.

"How could you be so horrid, Mollie?" whispered Bab.

Mollie's blue eyes were swimming in tears, but she would not let them fall on her flushed cheeks. She knew she must say good-bye to her new acquaintances, so she dared not answer Miss Sallie then.

But on the way back to their hotel, seated next Miss Stuart in the automobile, Mollie tried to offer an explanation for her rude behavior.

"Miss Sallie," she pleaded softly, "I know you are dreadfully angry with me; and I am afraid you won't forgive me; but I just couldn't make up my mind to let Mrs. Latham know where to find Eunice and her old grandmother. I know you will think I am foolish. Perhaps I am. But I have a feeling that Reginald Latham and his mother mean no good to Eunice. I can't help remembering how the old squaw acted when she first heard the name of Latham. I cannot believe she was just acting for effect as Reginald Latham said she was. There is some mystery about little Eunice.

Do you think, Miss Sallie, we girls have a right to betray the old Indian woman's secrets?"

"My sympathies are all with Mollie, Aunt Sallie!" Ruth declared. "I shall have to come in for a share of her scolding."

But Barbara shook her head. "I never knew anyone so prejudiced as Mollie is against Reginald Latham. What on earth do you suppose he and his mother could have against a poor old squaw and her little girl? Would you have helped pulled Reginald down out of his airship, if you had known how you would dislike him, Mollie?" Bab asked.

But Mollie was looking wistfully at Miss Sallie, and did not heed Barbara's question.

"I don't care what a young girl may think on any subject," Miss Stuart declared firmly, "she has no right to be rude to an older woman. And Mollie was undeniably rude to Mrs. Latham in refusing to answer her simple question. It could have done no harm to have told her the name of the hospital where Eunice is being treated."