Part 12 (1/2)

”Isn't he a dear!” pursued Mollie. ”I wonder if Miss Sallie is sorry now,” she continued to herself. ”If he were as gentle and charming when he was young as he is now, I don't think I could have been cross with him, ever.”

Meanwhile, Barbara was saying to Miss Stuart:

”No; we never told Mr. Martinez where we were going, or mentioned the major's name, so of course he had no way of knowing that we were coming here. It is curious, though,” she went on thoughtfully, ”our meeting him here. I wonder when he arrived?”

”Yesterday, I suppose,” replied Miss Sallie. ”Or it may have been this morning. However, it doesn't make any difference. I am glad, at least, that a friend of ours can show him some hospitality in return for his courageous act.”

By this time they had reached the top of the stairs and had a glimpse of another hall corresponding to the one below, at one end of which was a great cas.e.m.e.nt window with a broad cus.h.i.+oned window-seat under it. The other end, where the stairs turned, was lighted by an enormous stained gla.s.s window.

Little exclamations of rapture escaped the girls as they tripped over the softly carpeted floors to their rooms, which were on the left side of the hall. Opposite were the major's rooms, so Mary explained, while the young men were all quartered in the right wing except Mr. Martinez, who had a room at the end of the hall on the same side as the major's suite.

”I could live and die in a house like this, and never want to leave it,”

cried Bab, her eyes sparkling with pleasure as Mary opened the door leading to the room that had been a.s.signed to Ruth and her.

They could have a room apiece, if they wished it, the housekeeper said, but when it was discovered that this would necessitate two of the girls taking rooms in the right wing, many pa.s.sages and corridors away from the others, all said they would rather share the rooms on the main hall.

Mary looked somewhat relieved at this. It was evident she was not in favor of the right wing for the girls, either; although she did not explain her reasons.

In the large old-fas.h.i.+oned bedrooms, hung with chintz curtains and furnished with mahogany that would have been the joy of the antique dealers, were already placed the boxes and satchels of the automobilists. Two neat housemaids were engaged in unpacking their things and placing them in the drawers of the ma.s.sive highboys and wardrobes.

”Bab,” exclaimed Ruth, giving her friend an affectionate little shake, ”this is worth two highwaymen and a night in a Gypsy camp. I feel as if I were in an English country house. I feel we are going to have a perfectly wonderful time. And, somehow, the young Spaniard adds muchly to the whole thing. He seems to belong in the midst of carved oak and Persian rugs, doesn't he, Barbara, dear? As he stood on those steps he looked like an old Spanish portrait. All he needed was a velvet cape, a sword and a plumed hat.”

”Well, that seems a good deal to complete the picture, considering he was wearing an ordinary pepper and salt suit,” observed Barbara.

”I don't believe you like Senor Jose Martinez,” said Ruth.

”Oh, yes I do,” replied the other. ”I like him and I don't like him. His eyes are just a bit too close together, and still he is very handsome.

But give me time, give me time. I don't enjoy having my likes hurried along like this. If he can play tennis, ride horseback and dance as well as he can knock down a tramp, he will be a perfect paragon among men.

Look here, Ruth,” she continued, exploring the various closets, ”do you know we have a bathroom all to ourselves? Did you say that Major Ten Eyck was poor when Miss Sallie threw him over?”

”Well, he wasn't rich at that time,” replied Ruth; ”that is, not according to Aunt Sallie's ideas, but since then, she tells me, an uncle has left him lots of money.”

”Now, for a bath!” cried Barbara, as she turned the water on in the tub.

”Don't use too much of it,” called Ruth. ”I never saw a country house where the water didn't run short, no matter how grand a place it was.

Remember the drought, Bab, and leave a little for your fainting friend.”

The girls had barely time to bathe and dress, when a deep gong sounded in the hall. The five automobilists, refreshed by their belated baths, and dainty in crisp ducks and muslins, filed down the great staircase at the sound. Miss Stuart, in a lavender organdie, her white hair piled on top of her head, led the procession.

The major, waiting for them at the foot of the steps, smiled rather sadly as he watched the charming picture. The five young men grouped together at the end of the hall, came forward at sight of the ladies.

Three of them at least were rather shy in their greetings, especially the English boy, Alfred Marsdale, who was only seventeen and still afraid of American girls. Stephen and Martin Ten Eyck, boys of sixteen and seventeen, were also rather green in the society of girls. They had no sisters and their vacations had been spent either at Ten Eyck Hall or out West on their father's ranch. And an avalanche of four pretty, vivacious young women, advancing upon them in this way, was enough to make them tongue-tied for the moment. Jimmie Butler, who was nineteen and had seen a deal of life all over the world with his mother, a well-to-do widow, was proof against embarra.s.sment, and the young Spaniard also seemed perfectly at his ease.

”Come along, young people,” said the major, giving his arm to Miss Sallie and leading the way to the dining room.

Soon they were all gayly chatting at an immense, round table of black oak, so highly polished that it reflected the silver and china and the faces of the guests in its s.h.i.+ning board.