Part 12 (1/2)

”Open my bag, Mollie,” said Miss Sallie, decidedly, ”and you, Grace, look under the seat for my other hat. We shall probably arrive in Newport at five o'clock, the hour for the fas.h.i.+onable parade. I, at least, shall do what I can to give our car an appearance of gentility. I advise you children to do the same.”

”Would you like a little cold cream, Miss Sallie, to wipe off your face?” Mollie spoke timidly, remembering how Barbara had laughed at her.

”Certainly I should, my child, and very intelligent of you to have brought it along.”

”Well,” said Ruth, ”if you must 'fix up,' and I am to take a party of belles and beauties into Newport, instead of true lovers of sport, there are lots of new veils under my seat. Bab, take them out and pa.s.s them around. Only the chauffeur shall be dusty and dilapidated enough to look the part.”

Behold their dream had come true! The automobile girls were at last in Newport, watching the summer parade!

Ruth, at the expected hour, turned her car, with a great flourish, into Bellevue Avenue, Newport's most fas.h.i.+onable thoroughfare. For a few minutes the girls beheld a long procession of carriages and automobiles; a little later, they swung round a corner and stopped in front of a beautiful old Colonial house, with a wide veranda running around three sides of it, and a hospitably open front door.

Miss Sallie descended first, to be greeted by Ralph's mother, who was expecting them.

”I don't like her. She's not a bit like Ralph,” thought Barbara. Then she gave herself an inward shake. ”There, Barbara, you know what mother would say to you about your sudden prejudices!”

Mrs. Ewing, who had been a great beauty in her day, looked as though life had disagreed with her.

Barbara had wondered how a private home could accommodate so many people, never having seen a handsome old New England house, but their three rooms occupied only half of one side of the long hall on the second floor. ”And they think they are poor!” smiled Bab, to herself, as she looked admiringly at the handsome furniture. ”I wonder what they would think of our little five-room cottage.”

”I want some clean clothes before anything else,” sighed dainty Mollie, standing before a mirror, gazing with disdain at her own appearance. ”I believe I have one clean s.h.i.+rtwaist left, but I must still wear this dusty old skirt.”

But Ruth was staggering into the room under an immense box.

”Fifteen dollars express charges, mum; not a cent less! Them's my orders. And extry for carrying the box upstairs. It ain't my business.

I'm too accommodating I am! Where shall I put it down, mum?”

Ruth dropped the heavy bundle on the bed; she couldn't carry it a moment longer.

”Why, Ruth Stuart!” said Mollie, dancing with glee. ”It's some clothes for us! How did mother get them here in such a hurry? Oh, joy! oh, rapture! I was just fussing about having to wear this old suit to-night.”

Bab was tugging at the heavy cords.

”Foolish Bab!” scoffed Ruth. ”You'll never get it open that way,” and she cut the cord in a business-like fas.h.i.+on with a little knife she always carried.

”Now I'll run away and leave you,” Ruth continued. ”Grace is calling that it is time for my bath. Your turn next. I'll see the pretty things when I come back.”

Ruth would like to have stayed to see the girls open the box, but she had an instinctive feeling that they would prefer to be alone.

”Here's a letter from mother. Let's read that first,” said Bab.

Inside the letter lay two crisp ten-dollar bills!

”I have had a windfall, children,” the letter read, ”through the kindness of Mr. Stuart. He told me that some of my old stock that I thought of no value was paying a dividend again. Curiously, your Uncle Ralph had not mentioned it to me; but, when I wrote and told him of Mr.

Stuart's advice, he sent it to me at once. So here's a little spending money. And oh, my darlings, I hope you will like your new clothes! Mr.

Stuart is so kind to me, I am not lonely,” the letter ended, ”so have the best time you possibly can. I shall send your trunk to-morrow with your summer muslins and underwear.”

”Mollie mine, don't tear the paper in that fas.h.i.+on,” remonstrated Barbara. ”Let me open the box. Behold and see!” She held up two dainty organdie frocks, delicate and airy. Mollie's gown was white, with little b.u.t.terfly medallions of embroidery and lace sprinkled over it.

”Mollie, Mollie! How could mother have guessed your new name was 'the b.u.t.terfly girl'? Isn't it too lovely!” Bab almost forgot to look at her own frock, so enraptured was she with her sister's.