The Automobile Girls at Palm Beach Part 19

"You are very brave, Bab," said Marian admiringly. "Considering the man with whom you had to deal you showed wonderful courage."

"What do you mean, Marian, by 'the man with whom I had to deal'? Who is that frightful old man?" asked Barbara, looking searchingly at the other girl. "Why did you warn us not to dine with the countess? Did you know what was to happen? You must tell me, Marian, for I must know. If the countess or any of us is in danger it is your duty to tell me. Can't you trust me with your secret, Marian?"

Marian shook her head. Her lip quivered, and her eyes filled with tears.

Barbara waited patiently for her to regain her self-control.

"Bab," she said in a choked voice. "I can't answer your questions. I dare not. I am a miserable victim of circ.u.mstances, and all I can say is that your danger is in being friendly with the countess. She has an enemy who will stop at nothing to gain his own end, and he will crush you, too, if you stand in his way."

"Tell me, Marian," said Bab eagerly. "Do you know anything about the countess?"

"Very little," was the reply, "and that little I may not tell. But this I promise you, that no matter what may be the consequences to myself, I will warn you in time should any special danger threaten you girls or her. That is, if I have the slightest opportunity to do so."

Marian stretched out her hand and Bab clasped it. "Thank you, dear Marian," she said. "I know you will keep your word."

After an hour's stroll the party repaired to the hotel veranda, where ices and cakes were served to them. Every one, with the exception of Maud Warren, was in high good humor. Even Marian emerged from the gloom that had enveloped her earlier in the evening, laughing and talking merrily with the "Automobile Girls." Maud, however was in a distinctly rebellious state of mind. During their walk they had encountered the Count de Sonde and Monsieur Duval, and although Mr. Stuart and Mr.

Warren had exchanged polite civilities with the two Frenchmen, they had not invited them to join the party. While Maud, still smarting inwardly from her father's recent sharp censure, had not dared to brave Mr.

Warren's certain anger by doing so. Her only means of retaliation lay in sulking, and this she did in the most approved fas.h.i.+on, refusing to take part in the conversation, and answering in monosyllables when addressed.

Ruth and Barbara vainly tried to charm away her sulks by paying her special attention, but she merely curled her lip scornfully, and left the veranda soon after on plea of headache. Mr. Warren sighed heavily as he looked after her retreating figure, but made no comment. Yet his friends knew instinctively what was pa.s.sing in his mind, and the "Automobile Girls" solemnly vowed each in her own heart to watch over Maud and save her if possible from the schemes of fortune-hunting n.o.bility.

"Is there anything more perfect than this Florida moonlight!" asked Ruth, during a lull in the conversation, as she leaned back in her chair and gazed with half closed eyes at the silvery tropical world before her. "Positively, I could sit out here all night!"

"It looks as though we were in a fair way to do so," replied her father, glancing at his watch. "Half-past eleven. Time all children were in bed."

"Really, Robert, I had no idea it was so late," said Miss Sallie, stifling a yawn. "I believe I am sleepy. Come, girls, it is time for us to retire."

"Oh, Aunt Sallie!" exclaimed Ruth. "How can you be so cruel?"

"'I must be cruel to be kind,'" quoted Miss Stuart. "If I allow you to moon out here until unseasonable hours, you will never get started on your picnic to-morrow, at seasonable ones."

"She speaks the truth," said Ruth dramatically, "I will arise and hie me to the hay, for come what may, I swear that I will picnic with the rosy morn."

"I thought you were going to picnic with us," said Grace flippantly.

"So I am," replied Ruth calmly. "That statement was mere poetical license."

"First find your poet," said Bab slyly.

Whereupon there was a chorus of giggles at Ruth's expense, in which she good-naturedly joined.

"I'm really more tired than I thought I was," she yawned, a few moments later as she sat curled up in a big chair in the room adjoining Miss Stuart's which she and Barbara occupied.

"I'm tired and sleepy, too," responded Barbara. "It's almost midnight.

We'll never get up early to-morrow morning. Oh, dear!" she exclaimed a second later, "I've left my pink scarf down on the veranda. It's hanging over the back of the chair I sat in. I'll go down this minute and get it, before any one has had time to see it or take it away."

Suiting the action to the word Bab hurried out of the room, and along the corridor. She did not stop for an elevator but ran lightly down the two flights of stairs and out to the veranda. It was but the work of a moment to secure her scarf, which hung over the back of the chair, just as she had left it. The veranda was deserted except for a group of three people who stood at the far end in the shadow. Their backs were toward Bab and they were talking earnestly in low voices. Barbara stood petrified with astonishment, scarcely able to believe the evidence of her own eyes, for the group consisted of Monsieur Duval, Mrs. De Lancey Smythe and--enveloped in the pale blue broadcloth cloak Bab had often seen her wear was the Countess Sophia.

CHAPTER XV

CAUGHT NAPPING

The following morning Barbara awoke with the feeling of one who has experienced a disagreeable dream. Was it a trick of her imagination, or had she really seen their beautiful young countess deep in conversation with Monsieur Duval and Mrs. De Lancey Smythe? True Bab had not seen her face, but her height, and carriage--the blue cloak--were unmistakable.

On her return to their room Bab had not mentioned her unpleasant discovery to Ruth. She could not bear to voice any actual charge against the Countess Sophia. "Perhaps it will all be explained yet," she told herself, and with a wisdom far beyond her years, she resolved to be silent, at least for the present, about what she had seen.

When the launch which Mr. Stuart had chartered, with its freight of picnickers, had put out from sh.o.r.e and headed for the villa, where they were to pick up the countess and Madame de Villiers, Barbara had loyally decided to let not even the evidence of her own eyes sway her into condemning the countess unheard.

On their arrival at the villa they found the countess and Madame de Villiers ready and waiting for them, and the sailing party was soon comfortably seated in the roomy launch. Madame de Villiers occupied a wicker chair opposite Miss Sallie, while the young countess and the "Automobile Girls" had stretched a steamer rug over the roof of the small cabin, and lay upon it in picturesque att.i.tudes under their sunshades.

There was a churning of the propeller, a shrill toot from the whistle, and the launch glided out over the water as smoothly as a canoe rides down stream.

"We're off!" cried Mr. Stuart joyously.

"I believe you are just a great boy still, Robert," smiled Miss Sallie indulgently.

The day's excursion had been arranged by Mr. Stuart. He was an enthusiastic fisherman, and on his return from the fis.h.i.+ng expedition with Mr. Warren he at once began to plan a similar excursion for the "Automobile Girls," extending his invitation to the countess and Madame de Villiers.

It was an ideal day for a picnic. The sun shone brilliantly down on Palm Beach, making it look like an enchanted land. The bathers were out in full force. A little farther up the beach countless flower-trimmed hats and many-hued parasols made gorgeous blots of color along the white sands. Overhead the sky was an intense blue, and the water reflected the blueness in its depths.

"You can never understand how happy this makes me," declared the countess, bestowing an enchanting smile upon the little company. "Mr.

Stuart, we thank you for the many pleasures you have given Cousine and me. Someday I hope I may be able to do something for you."

"Wait until the picnic is over before you thank me, Countess," replied her host. "The fis.h.i.+ng may bore you, especially if the fish don't bite."

"Ah, well," laughed the countess, "I could fish patiently all day, under a sky like this without complaining, if I were to catch nothing but a minnow."

Mr. Stuart's fis.h.i.+ng party had made an early start. They were to land some miles up the coast, where those who were not of a mind to fish could make themselves comfortable on sh.o.r.e.

The journey was not a short one. It was well past eleven o'clock when they landed on a hard sh.e.l.l beach, broken here and there by patches of marsh gra.s.s.

"You are especially privileged to be allowed to set foot on these sh.o.r.es," Mr. Stuart a.s.sured his guests, as he handed them out of the launch. "The location of this place has been kept a secret; otherwise it would be overrun with tourists and excursionists."

"Is it so beautiful?" Ruth inquired.

"Wait until you see it!" was Mr. Stuart's reply.

The beach sloped upward so as to form a wall that completely hid the land behind it from view.

Ruth and Barbara ran on ahead.

"Oh, Father," cried Ruth excitedly. "This is a surprise!"

The two girls were looking down into a beautiful little dell. It was like a tiny oasis, with a sand wall on one side of it, and a ma.s.s of palmettoes, oak trees and cocoanut palms encircling it on the other three sides. The ground was carpeted thickly with violets. Yellow jasmine and elder flowers gleamed through the foliage. The branches of the oak trees were draped with gray Spanish moss, which made quite a sombre background for the gay tropical scene.