The Automobile Girls at Palm Beach Part 11

"Where is Marian?" Ruth asked the widow abruptly, looking her straight in the eyes.

Mrs. De Lancey Smythe's eyes dropped before Ruth's clear gaze. She twirled her parasol, looked annoyed then said frigidly: "Marian has a headache this afternoon."

"I trust the wetting she got this morning had nothing to do with it."

"Marian is an impulsive and reckless girl," snapped her mother. "She is entirely too fond of disregarding all conventions."

"Has any one seen my daughter?" Mr. Warren's deep voice was now heard above the hum of conversation. Mrs. De Lancey Smythe joined him and together they strolled over toward Maud and the count. Mrs. De Lancey Smythe seized this opportunity to say a few words in favor of the Count de Sonde, for it was evident that Mr. Warren had taken a violent dislike to the young man. Had some one persuaded the widow to make this appeal, or was she genuinely attracted by the young French n.o.bleman?

Mr. Stuart found himself agreeably surprised by Monsieur Duval. When the sun began to sink, and the tea drinkers prepared to return to their hotel, Mr. Duval occupied a seat in the Stuart automobile. Moreover, when he said good-bye on the hotel veranda, he carried with him two invitations. One was to dine with the Stuart party that very evening, the other, to go with them the next day on a picnic.

No sooner was Bab out of the automobile than she determined to run up to Marian's room. She knew the widow had not yet returned. Bab found the number of Marian's room from the hotel clerk. Then she got in the elevator and went up to the top floor of the hotel.

She knocked at a door in the middle of a long narrow pa.s.sage, and a faint voice said: "Come in."

Bab entered a small bed room situated under the eaves of the hotel roof.

There were three trunks in the tiny chamber which overlooked a court yard. The room was very close and hot. Marian was on the bed. She had cried herself to sleep. At Bab's knock she opened her heavy eyes.

"Why, Barbara!" she exclaimed. "It is awfully good of you to come up to see me, but Mama would have three fits if she knew you had seen this room. I am glad you have come, because I have something special to tell you. I----" Poor Marian hesitated and stopped.

Barbara looked at her with questioning eyes.

"I am afraid it is dreadfully disloyal of me to say another word."

Marian pressed her hands to her temples. "And I haven't anything really definite to tell you. But, oh Barbara, I have a suspicion that something may happen soon! Will you remember that I had nothing to do with it, and that I mean to prevent it if I can?"

Barbara, completely mystified, hardly knew what to reply.

"Do you mean to warn me, Marian?" she asked her new friend. "Do you mean that something is going to happen that may concern us?"

"No; not exactly," Marian answered. Then she made an impetuous movement.

"Please don't question me," she begged. "There is a reason why I dare not answer your questions. Forget what I have said, if you can. But for goodness' sake, don't mention to Mama that I have talked with you. I sometimes wonder what will become of us. Things can't go on much longer.

There is sure to be a grand crash. But please go, now, Barbara, Mama might come in and she would be very angry to find you here. I will see you to-night."

Barbara did not meet Mrs. De Lancey Smythe as she left Marian's room, but she did run across her in the evening. The widow was hurrying through a side corridor in the hotel. She was wrapped in a long dark cloak, and appeared to be trying to leave the hotel by stealth. Bab drew back into one end of the corridor until the widow had disappeared, then she walked slowly out on the piazza. Marian's warning was ringing in her ears. What was it that Marian had feared might happen, and why did her mother leave the hotel in that stealthy mysterious manner?

On the piazza Bab found her own friends enjoying the beauty of the night. Maud and the Count de Sonde were talking just outside the group.

"Do you know what I heard to-day?" remarked Mr. Stuart. "I understand that there is a swindler abroad at Palm Beach. A woman at that."

"You don't mean it," exclaimed Miss Sallie. "How dreadful!"

"It seems," continued Mr. Stuart, "that the detectives have been on the watch for her for some time, but so far she has been too clever for them. However, they have traced her to the Beach, but among the hundreds of tourists they have lost their clue. They do not despair of finding her yet, and a strict watch is being kept. She may be apprehended at any moment."

"Well, let's hope she doesn't attempt to swindle us," commented Ruth.

"By the way where is Monsieur Duval? He disappeared mysteriously the moment dinner was over."

"He had an engagement, and begged to be excused," replied Mr. Stuart.

"He said he would return in a little while."

"Speaking of angels," remarked Mollie, "here he comes now."

"Yes, and he's towing along our pet aversion Mrs. D. L. Smythe," said Grace.

Bab looked toward the approaching pair.

Monsier Duval and Mrs. De Lancey Smythe not yet aware that they were under the observation of the Stuart party, were deeply engaged in conversation.

Barbara, watching closely, saw the Frenchman glance up, then he quickly dropped his eyes, and an expression of cautious cunning flitted over his face. His lips moved, the widow gave a half frightened look, then her expression of absorption changed to one of languid indifference. As the two neared the steps, from their demeanor, one would have concluded them to be mere acquaintances.

What was the meaning of it all? Barbara wondered. And what secret understanding was there between those two people? Bab's observant eye noted that Monsieur Duval carried over one arm the heavy cloak in which she had seen the widow wrapped a short time before. Had Mrs. De Lancey Smythe gone to meet the Frenchman, and, if so why did she not do so openly? Suppose Mrs. De Lancey Smythe were an impostor, with a game to play. Suppose Mr. Duval were--Barbara sighed impatiently. She was letting her imagination run riot. She resolved to dismiss the whole tiresome business from her mind, and enjoy herself.

At that moment Maud Warren came languidly forward, the little count at her heels. "Miss Stuart," she announced, "I have persuaded Papa to let me give a masked ball before we go back to New York. There are a number of smart people here at Palm Beach, and I want the count to see one of our American b.a.l.l.s. We shall wear our masks until midnight, and then have a cotillon afterwards."

"That will be delightful, Maud!" replied Ruth. "And that reminds me.

Father and I have never arranged about our picnic to-morrow. Don't you think it would be fun to motor over to the big ostrich farm and have our luncheon there under the trees?"

"Very delightful," agreed Maud. "Don't you think so, Count?"

"I shall be charmed," replied the little count, with an exaggerated bow.

"But we shan't," whispered Mollie, naughtily to Barbara, under cover of general conversation.

"In order to cure, we must endure," returned Bab in an undertone.

Whereupon the sisters both chuckled softly.

At this juncture Marian appeared at the end of the piazza, and came slowly toward the group. Her eyes still showed traces of tears, and she looked ill and wretched.

Mr. Stuart greeted Marian kindly, and immediately invited her to Ruth's picnic. And the invitation, of course, had to include Marian's mother.

"I am sorry you have been ill," he said courteously, interrupting his conversation with Mr. Duval.

Monsieur Duval's eyes rested curiously on Marian. His look searched her face. "Perhaps the climate of Palm Beach does not agree with your health," he suggested. "You do not like it here?"

"It is not a question of what I like or dislike, Mr. Duval," said Marian curtly.

"But what do you prefer?" persisted the Frenchman with a shade of interest in his manner.

"To mind my own affairs," returned Marian coldly, turning her back on Monsieur Duval.

CHAPTER IX

A CASE OF MISTAKEN IDENt.i.tY

Early the next afternoon the picnickers sallied forth in two automobiles, going first to the villa for the Countess Sophia and Madame de Villiers, then the two cars sped along the country road in the direction of the ostrich farm. Marian, Mollie, Mrs. De Lancey Smythe, Miss Stuart, Barbara, Maud and the Count de Sonde were in the foremost car, while the remainder of the party occupied the car first rented by Mr. Stuart, with Ruth as chauffeur.

"Why don't you start a song?" called Ruth over her shoulder. "Grace, sing something. Sing 'My Old Kentucky Home.'"