CHAPTER XV
SOCIETY IN LENOX
"Miss Sallie, is Lenox the oldest summer resort in the United States?"inquired Barbara, as they sat on a private veranda which opened intotheir own sitting-room, in the most beautiful hotel in Lenox.
"I am sure I don't know, Bab, dear," Miss Sallie answered complacently."I think modern Lenox has been transformed by the wealth that has comeinto the place in the last fifty years. I am told that it once had moreliterary associations than any other town in the country. As Ruth tellsme you are ambitious to become a writer some day, this will interest you.You girls must go about, while you are here, and see all the sights."
Barbara blushed and changed the subject. She did not like to talk of herliterary ambitions.
"Ruth and Mollie are late in getting back, aren't they?" she asked. "Youknow they have gone over in the automobile to inquire for Eunice. I hopethey will be back in time for tea. Did Ruth remember to tell you that theBritish Ambassador's daughters, Dorothy and Gwendolin Morton, are comingin to tea? And perhaps Mr. Winthrop Latham and Reginald Latham will behere also."
Miss Sallie nodded. "Yes; I am expecting them," she declared. "It is mostkind of them to call on us so promptly. I was afraid we would know no onein Lenox, as I have no acquaintances here. I did not expect you andlittle Mollie to pull friends down from the sky for us, as you seem tohave done by your rescue of Mr. Latham and his nephew. What a strangething life is!"
"Do you know, Miss Sallie," Barbara continued, "it seems awfully funnyfor Mollie and me to to be associating with such important people as thedaughters of the English Ambassador. I am even impressed with that funnylittle German Secretary, Franz Heller, just because he is attached to theGerman Embassy. It makes me feel as though I were a character in a book,to even meet such clever people. Dear me, what a lot you and Ruth havedone for us!"
"Barbara, dear," replied Miss Stuart, kindly, "we have not done much morefor you than you girls have done for us in a different way. True, throughmy brother, we happened to have the money to pay for our good times; butpoor Ruth and I couldn't have had those good times without the otherthree 'Automobile Girls.' How is Grace's headache? Will she be able tosee our friends this afternoon?"
"Shall I ask her?" Bab suggested, going in to the bedroom through theFrench window which opened onto their porch.
She came out, shaking her head. "Grace is not well enough to get up yet,"she explained. "She says she may be able to join us for a few minuteswhen our guests arrive; but you are not to worry. Her headache isbetter."
"Shall we have tea out on our veranda, Barbara?" Miss Sallie asked. "Icannot tear myself away from this view. How exquisite the lake looks downbetween those mountains. And what is the name of that hill over there?Oh, yes, I know you girls have told me the name of it many times before,but as I cannot remember it, you will probably have to tell it to merepeatedly. Monument Mountain, did you say? Oh, I recall the story now.An Indian girl is supposed to have flung herself off of it on account ofsome love affair. Curious people the Indians," she continued. "Do youknow, Bab, I am much interested in our little Indian girl? She is a verybeautiful child, and her race is not usually beautiful. I don'tunderstand the girl looking as she does. I shall go to the hospital withyou to see her soon. Now, hurry along, child, and order the tea." MissSallie paused for an instant. "And tell the waiter to see that theservice is good. English people are so particular about their tea!"
Barbara was back from her errand just in time to see a pony carriagedrive up in front of the hotel. She went forward to meet their guests,sighing a little to herself. "I do wish Ruth and Mollie would come. I amsure I shan't know how to talk to these English girls by myself. I hardlyspoke to them the night of our famous coon hunt."
Gwendolin and Dorothy Morton came half shyly forward. They were tall,willowy girls, with soft, brown hair and lovely complexions.
"I know why English girls are thought to look like roses," flashedthrough Bab's mind. "These girls are just like roses bending from longstems." Barbara came forward, speaking in her usual frank fashion. "I amso glad to see you," she declared. "Will you come to our little privatebalcony? If it is not too cold for you, Miss Stuart wishes to have teaout there."
Gwendolin and Dorothy Morton followed Bab in silence. As English girls donot talk so much as American girls on first acquaintance, Barbara feltcompelled to keep up the conversation.
"I am ever so sorry," she went on; "but my friend, Ruth Stuart, and mysister, Mollie, are not yet back from the hospital. They have gone to askabout our little Indian girl."
"Your little Indian girl!" exclaimed Dorothy Morton, surprised intotalking. "Why, what do you mean?"
Bab glanced back over her shoulder as the three girls started into thehotel. "There come Ruth and Mollie now!" she exclaimed. "They can tellyou about our little Eunice better than lean."
A crimson motor car was speeding up the avenue.
"How well Miss Stuart drives her car!" laughed Gwendolin Morton. "But shewill have to be very careful; the road laws are very strict in Lenox. Imust tell her that, if she is arrested, she will surely be taken toprison. I don't know how to drive a car. My sister and I are more fond ofhorses. Do you ride, Miss Thurston?"
Barbara colored. She wondered what these wealthy English girls wouldthink of the kind of riding to which she had been accustomed. An oldbareback horse, a Texas pony, once even a mule had been Barbara's steeds.So she answered shyly: "Yes, I do ride a little. But, of course, I don'tride in the beautiful way I know you and your sister do."
"We are very anxious to have you and your friends take part in our autumnsports at Lenox," urged Dorothy Morton.
Barbara and the two English girls were waiting at the hotel door for Ruthand Mollie.
In another moment Ruth jumped from her car, and, followed by Mollie, camehurrying up to her guests.
"I am so sorry not to be here when you arrived," she explained. "We justflew home. I was afraid of being held up every minute. But we were keptwaiting so long at the hospital that I knew we were late. Do let's joinAunt Sallie. She will grow impatient."
Miss Stuart came forward from her veranda into their privatesitting-room. "I am so glad to see you," she said to the two Englishgirls.
"And we are delighted to be your first guests, Miss Stuart," saidGwendolin, who was the elder of the two girls. "Mr. Heller wishes to comein and pay his respects to you later, and I believe Mr. Winthrop Lathamand his nephew are on their way now. We passed them as we drove here."
"Aunt Sallie," Ruth spoke softly a few moments later, when she thought noone was listening, "little Eunice is better. But Naki had to take her tothe hospital at Pittsfield. He could not find a place for her here.Fortunately, Pittsfield is only a few miles from Lenox over a simplyperfect road, so we shan't mind going back and forth in the car. Naki andCeally are keeping the poor old Indian grandmother with them. Ceally saysshe seems subdued and frightened."
Ruth turned rosy red. From the silence in the room she knew her guestswere hearing what she said. "I beg your pardon," she explained, turningto Dorothy Morton, who was nearest her. "Please forgive my bad manners.We are so interested in our new protegee that I forget that you knownothing of her."
"But we should like to know, awfully!" Dorothy declared. "Who is thisIndian girl? I thought all the Indians had vanished from the Berkshires."
But Mr. Winthrop Latham and his nephew Reginald were at the door.
Behind them was a plump little German, with blond hair parted in themiddle, a tiny waxed mustache and near-sighted blue eyes. He was FranzHeller, the Secretary at the German Embassy. He could usually be foundsomewhere in the neighborhood of Gwendolin Morton.
Reginald Latham came up to Bab and sat down next her.
"Please," he whispered immediately, "do not speak of the little Indiangirl before my uncle."
"Why not?" queried Bab, in astonishment.
"I can't explain to you now!" Reginald faltered. His uncle's eyes werefastened on him.
Miss Stuart
announcing that tea was waiting on the balcony, the littleparty adjourned to the veranda and stood talking and admiring the view.It was a wonderful, clear October day, radiant with warm sunshine.
Mr. Winthrop Latham stood near Miss Stuart, assisting her to serve thetea. The young people were talking in a group near them.
"I say, Ruth!" exclaimed Dorothy Morton. "Forgive my calling you Ruth soearly in our acquaintance, but if I call you Miss Stuart, your aunt maythink I am speaking to her. Do please tell us about the mysterious littleIndian girl, who is your protegee. Where did you find her?"
Reginald Latham, who was near Barbara, broke into the conversation.
"Tell Miss Stuart about our fall sports, Dorothy!" he urged.
"Tell me of them afterwards," said Dorothy. "I must hear about thisIndian child first."
"Well, the story of our little Indian girl is a long and rather odd one,"Ruth asserted. "As she is really Mollie's discovery, not mine, Molliemust tell you about her."
Mollie was embarrassed at suddenly finding herself the center of so manyeyes.
Mr. Winthrop Latham had turned around, and was also watching her. He hadcaught Ruth's last speech.
"Why," confessed Mollie, "the story of our little Indian girl is simpleenough, but it is very strange."
The little girl paused. Reginald Latham's eyes were fixed on her in astrange gaze; but she had started to tell her tale and must go on. Mollielooked over at Aunt Sallie, and the latter nodded her approval.
Quietly Mollie told of her wood nymph first leading her astray on themountain; of Eunice's visit to her, next day, and of Bab's accidentalshooting of the child afterwards.
"I don't think our discovery of the little Indian girl was so odd," saidMollie. "What I think is strange is that no one around here ever knew ofher before. Just think, Eunice is thirteen or fourteen years old and shehas been kept hidden in these hills by her old Indian grandmother all herlife. She had never been to a town until she was taken to the hospital byour guide, Naki. Yet she is so pretty and gentle. I love her already."The little girl had a queer feeling as if she were defending Eunice--shedid not know why.
A voice broke into the conversation. "You say, my dear"--Mr. Latham spokesternly--"that you and your friends have found an old Indian woman and achild called Eunice hidden in the woods back of you? The thing isimpossible. The old woman and the girl are probably gypsies or tramps.They cannot be Indians. I have reason to know the history of the Indiansin this part of the country very well. My eldest brother married anIndian girl. She was the last of her people in this vicinity, and shedied about fifteen years ago."
Mollie did not answer. A sudden silence fell upon the little group.
Barbara looked at Reginald. She understood, now, why he was often afraidof his uncle. The older man would not endure contradiction.
"Reginald, we must say good-bye to Miss Stuart," his uncle commanded.
"Don't go just yet, Mr. Latham," pleaded Gwendolin Morton. "You promisedto help me explain to Miss Stuart the plan for our day of sports. Yousee, Miss Stuart, every season at Lenox we have an annual entertainmentfor the benefit of our hospital fund. This year father is to take chargeof the sports, which we try to make just as informal and jolly aspossible. One of the reasons for my call was to ask you to let your girlshelp us out with our amusements. As soon as I told my father we had metsome delightful American girls who were camping near here, he suggestedthat we invite them to join in our sports. We intend to have some reallygood riding; but the other games are only jokes. Did you ever hear of adummy race or a thread-and-needle race?"
Miss Stuart shook her head, smilingly, as she said, "Miss Morton, I don'teven try to keep up with the ways young people have of entertainingthemselves these days; but I am sure, whatever your Lenox sports may be,my 'Automobile Girls' will be happy to take part in them."
"That's awfully jolly of you, Miss Stuart!" declared Dorothy Morton, whowas the younger and more informal of the English girls. She turned toRuth.
"Won't you come in and have a game of archery with us to-morrowafternoon? Father and mother will both be at home. We can tell you all ofour plans for next week."
"We'll be happy to come," laughed Ruth, "but none of us know how to usethe bow. That is an English game, isn't it? We shall be delighted to lookon."
"Oh, archery is all the rage at Lenox," little Mr. Heller explained."Perhaps you will let me show your friends how to shoot."
Ruth shook her head. "We shall have plenty to learn if we are to takepart in your queer races next week. If my friend, Miss Carter, is betterto-morrow you may expect us."
Grace came out on the porch. "I am well, already!" she apologized. "Atleast I decided that, headache or no headache, I couldn't miss all thefun this afternoon. So here I am!"
"Now, we must positively say good-bye, Miss Stuart," declared Mr. Latham,extending his hand. "I want to take you and your girls for a drive toLake Queechy. Then you must see the place where the Hawthorne's 'littlered house' formerly stood. The house burned down some years ago, but thesite is interesting, for Hawthorne lived in the Berkshires a number ofyears and wrote 'The House of Seven Gables' here. We have plenty ofliterary associations, Miss Stuart. My people have lived here so longthat I take a deep interest in the history of the place."
"Lake Queechy," Miss Sallie exclaimed sentimentally, "is the lake namedfor Susan Warner, the author of 'Queechy' and 'The Wide, Wide World.'Dear me, I shed quantities of tears over those books in my day. But girlsdon't care for such weepy books nowadays, do they? They want more fireand adventure. I am sure I should be ashamed of my 'Automobile Girls' ifthey fell to crying in the face of an obstacle. They prefer to overcomeit. We shall be delighted to drive with you. Good-bye!"
"Curious, Reginald!" declared Mr. Winthrop Latham, when the two men hadwalked several yards from the hotel in silence. "That is a veryremarkable story that your friends tell of the discovery of an unknownIndian child. Did they call her Eunice? That is strangest of all! Youhave been up on the hill with these girls a number of times. Have youseen this girl?"
Reginald mumbled something. It was not audible. But his uncle understoodhe had not seen the girl.
"Oh, well, the old woman is probably a gypsy tramp," Mr. Lathamconcluded, "but I will look up the child, some day, for my ownsatisfaction. Reg, boy, the rudder of our airship will be repaired in thenext few days. Do you feel equal to another aerial flight?"
"Most assuredly I do," the nephew replied. The two men walked on. But,for once, they were not thinking of their favorite hobby. The mind ofeach man dwelt upon Mollie's story of a poor little Indian girl. Whatconnection could she have with these two men of wealth and position?
Reginald Latham's suspicions were growing. The Indian girl might be anobstacle in his path.
"I must tell mother all I have heard and guessed," he reflected. "Underno circumstances must uncle be allowed to see this child. Mother willknow how to manage. We may have to spirit the girl away, if she is thechild I fear she is. But we must make sure."
Reginald Latham was not a pleasant man, but he was clever. If he hadreason to fear little Eunice he would work quietly. What chance had thechild and her ignorant, uncivilized grandmother against him?
Mr. Winthrop Latham's thoughts were of a different kind. "The youngIndian girl," he assured himself, "can have no further possible interestfor me."