CHAPTER III
THE FAIR UNKNOWN
"I am afraid you must be very cold and wet," the young woman said, in aclear sweet voice, with an accent that the girls had never heard before.She was graceful with an elegance of manner that to imaginative Babseemed almost regal.
Mr. Stuart went forward. "It is most kind and hospitable of you to takeus in like this," he declared. "We would certainly have been veryuncomfortable if we had stayed in the boathouse for such a length oftime. We are deeply grateful to you."
"Do sit down," the young woman answered. "And won't you have some tea?It may warm you." She pressed an electric bell in the wall. A manservant appeared, and she gave him her orders in German.
The "Automobile Girls" clustered together in the window seat. Theirunknown hostess sank into a low chair near them. Miss Sallie and Mrs. DeLancey Smythe were left to the mercy of the old lady with the beakednose. Maud and the count withdrew to one corner of the room, where theychatted softly, the latter bent on displaying all his powers offascination.
"Are these your four daughters?" asked the young mistress of the villa,turning to Mr. Stuart, after a friendly glance at the "AutomobileGirls."
"No," Mr. Stuart replied, laughing and shaking his head. "I am sorry tosay I can boast of only one daughter. The three other girls are herfriends. But they are all my girls. At least I call them my 'AutomobileGirls'!"
"Ah," replied the young woman apparently puzzled. "How is it that youcall them the 'Automobile Girls'? Do young girls run motor cars in yourcountry? Their independence is quite wonderful, I think."
"Ruth is our chauffeur," explained Bab, who was looking closely at thebeautiful face of her hostess. The latter's dark brown hair was arrangedin a braid and wound about her head like a coronet but it broke intolittle soft curls around her face. She had a small straight nose and thecurve of her red lips was perfect. The coutour of her face was oval andher large dark eyes were touched with an undefinable sadness. She wastall and slender, and she wore a plain, white woolen frock thatemphasized the lines of her graceful figure. The simplicity of hercostume was not marred by a single ornament. Even her long, slenderfingers were bare of rings.
She turned to pretty Mollie, taking one of her small hands in her owncool fingers. "Do these little hands also run a motor car?" the hostessasked.
Mollie looked long into the beautiful face. Somehow its hidden sadnesstouched her. Mollie's blue eyes filled with tears. She felt strangelytimid.
"Why, you must not be afraid of me, dear one," said the young woman. Shegazed into Mollie's blue eyes appealingly, and softly pressed her hand."I'm a girl like yourself, only I am much older. But I love youngergirls very dearly. You must let me be your friend." To the amazement ofthe other girls this exquisite stranger bent over and kissed Mollie onthe lips.
"I should be very happy to have you for my friend," returned Mollie, asmile quivering through her tears. "And I wasn't the least bitfrightened. I think perhaps it was the storm that made me so silly. Babsometimes calls me a cry baby."
"Which one of you is Bab? And what a pretty name that is!" exclaimed theyoung hostess.
Barbara stepped forward with a friendly smile. Mr. Stuart then presentedGrace and Ruth.
But still their new friend did not reveal her identity.
She was a foreigner. There was no doubt of that. She had spoken inGerman to her servant. Perhaps she was German? She confessed that thiswas her first visit to America. The climate of New York had driven hersouth. Yet she did not mention her name or her country.
Presently the man servant returned to the room carrying a tea service.He was followed by a comely German maid, who carried a tray laden withbuttered toast and a large dish of German cookies.
The man lit the candles and a lamp covered with a yellow shade.
A soft, mellow glow pervaded the beautiful room. There was a pleasantsilence and all eyes were turned to their lovely young hostess, whoseslender white hands busied themselves with the tea things.
"A friendly cup of tea on a day like this, makes the whole world kin,"she said, smiling brightly at her guests. "It banishes sad thoughts andone grows cheerful, even though the weather behaves itself so badly."
"We have a proverb," laughed Ruth, "that says 'it's an ill wind thatblows no one good.' We should really thank the weather for misbehaving."
"Ah, that is broad flattery," cried their hostess with a silvery laugh."But oh so charming."
"Do you not find it dull staying at an out-of-the-way place like this?"broke in Mrs. De Lancey Smythe, looking about her with a patronizingair. "I am quite sure I have never seen you at the Beach."
The "Automobile Girls" exchanged lightning glances. Mrs. Smythe's abruptremark jarred upon them, and simultaneously it occurred to them that shewas distinctly underbred.
Marian's face flushed, and she bit her lip. "I think this quiet placemust be enchanting," she said almost defiantly. "I hate hotels."
"Really, Marian," said her mother coldly. "Your opinion has not beensolicited."
"They're going to quarrel," thought Barbara. "How disagreeable thatwoman is. She is so snippy, and calculating and deceitful. I rather likeMarian, though."
But their hostess averted any domestic altercation by saying sweetly. "Iam indeed a stranger, here, but I came for rest and quiet, therefore Ihave little desire to frequent the Beach or its hotels."
"Quite true," responded Mrs. De Lancey Smythe, and hastily turning herattention to the imposing looking old woman with the gold headed caneshe said, "You are German, I presume."
"Why German?" replied the old lady, observing her questioner with adangerous glitter in her small black eyes.
Mrs. De Lancey Smythe showed signs of confusion.
"I thought you were Germans because you spoke German to your servant,"she said, trying to look haughty and thus carry off what promised to bean unpleasant situation.
"Ah, yes," returned her antagonist. "But does it follow that one is ofthe same country as one's servants? We have also employed both Frenchand English maids."
Mrs. De Lancey Smythe did not deem it wise to continue the conversation.She therefore turned her attention to Mr. Duval who had been listeningto the conversation with a curious smile on his clever face.
Miss Sallie was delighted with the strange old woman. Her abruptness wasamusing. Miss Stuart began discussing a number of current topics withher in an impersonal, well-bred manner, neither woman showing theslightest curiosity about the other's personal affairs.
"Count de Sonde!" called Mrs. De Lancey Smythe suddenly.
There was an immediate lull in the conversation.
The young mistress of the villa stared at the "Automobile Girls." Herface turned pale. She leaned back in her chair. "Count de Sonde!" shewhispered to herself.
Mollie was at her new friend's side in an instant. "I am afraid you areill," she suggested. "Can I do anything for you?"
"No, no, dear child," replied the other. "It was only a momentaryfaintness. But did I not hear some one call the Count de Sonde? Is hehere?"
"Oh, yes," returned Mollie politely. "He is that young man in white, whois now talking with Mrs. De Lancey Smythe."
Her hostess turned quickly. She looked a long time at the young count."Who is the other man near him?" she next asked.
Mollie was again her informant. "He is a Mr. Duval," she explained. "Heand the Count de Sonde are at the same hotel together."
At this moment, Maud Warren, who had noted her father's displeased look,decided to join the "Automobile Girls," who were grouped around theirhostess.
"Do you know," she said with an air of triumph, "the Count de Sonde hasinvited Papa and me and the De Lancey Smythes to visit him at hischateau in France next summer?"
The tea-cup of their hostess crashed to the floor. It broke into smallpieces.
"Don't trouble to pick up the pieces," she protested to Mr. Stuart."Johann will do it. I am very careless. So you expect to visit Francenext summer?" she continued, turning her attentio
n to Maud.
"Yes, Papa and I shall go," Maud replied. "It would be quite novel tovisit a chateau."
"Delightful. But where is the chateau of the De Sonde family?" inquiredthe other young woman.
Maud hesitated. "I am not sure that I know," she replied. "I believe thecount said it was in Brittany. The count's family is one of the oldestin France."
"I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting the count," suggested Maud'shostess. "Perhaps you will present him to me."
In a few moments the young count was leaning gracefully against themantelpiece. He was talking with the beautiful stranger, whose name wasstill withheld from her visitors. A little later Monsieur Duval joinedthem.
"Oh, yes, I hasten to assure you, it is quite, quite old," the countexplained. He was talking of his family in Brittany.
"How far back does your family go?" went on his unknown questioner.
The count cleared his throat and choked over his fresh cup of tea.
"My friend's family goes back to the eleventh century," answered Duvalquietly. The count was still coughing violently.
"And you are the last of your line?" continued his hostess. She wasaddressing the count. "It is a pity for such an illustrious race to dieout. I suppose you will marry?"
She looked at the young man with such grave sweetness that he smileduneasily and shifted his gaze.
"I hope to marry some day, Mademoiselle," he mumbled.
"You have some very old families in Germany also, have you not?"inquired Monsieur Duval, looking searchingly at the young woman.
Did she pause a moment before she answered? Bab and Ruth both thoughtso.
"In what European country are there not old families, Monsieur?" shereplied courteously. "In Italy the old families trace their lineage tothe gods of mythology. But I am interested in a young country like thisAmerica."
"Then you should go to Chicago, if you wish to see a really Americancity," cried Ruth. "Of course, Aunt Sallie and Father and I think ourChicago is greater than New York, because it is our home."
"De Lancey Hall, in Virginia, is my family home," drawled Mrs. De LanceySmythe, with a little insolent air of pride. "The De Lanceys were atitled French family before they came to this country."
"How very interesting!" exclaimed the youthful hostess, in an enigmatictone. "Do people drop their titles in this great free country of yours?It is much better, I think. Titles mean but little anywhere." She endedher words with a little, serious frown.
"The best heritage that I can lay claim to is that of being anAmerican," exclaimed Ruth, with enthusiasm. "America for the Americans!Three cheers for the red, white and blue!"
"You are a true patriot. Is it not so?" laughed the hostess, pattingRuth's shoulder. "Your great free country is so wonderful. Its libertyis boundless." She sighed, and for a moment seemed wrapped in thought.Then turning to Mr. Stuart and Mr. Warren asked if they would have moretea.
"No thank you," replied Mr. Stuart. "In fact I believe we had betterbegin to think about getting back to our hotel. The rain has stopped,and we need trespass upon your hospitality no further."
"It has been a pleasure to meet you and your 'Automobile Girls,'" theyoung woman replied. Then she added very softly so that Mr. Stuart andMollie who stood with her hand clasped in that of the stranger, alone,heard: "Won't you bring them to see me in the near future?"
"Oh how lovely!" breathed Mollie.
"We shall be very happy, indeed to come," Mr. Stuart replied.
"I thank you for your charming hospitality, Mademoiselle," broke in thesuave tones of Mr. Duval, who with the count at his heels had steppedunnoticed to the young woman's side. "Am I presumptuous in venturing toask if it is your pleasure that we should know to whom we are indebted?"
"Ah to be sure. I have been what you call, very stupid," laughed theunknown. "Pray pardon me." Gliding over to the side of the stern oldwoman, she took her hand. "Permit me to present my very dear friend,Madame de Villiers. I am the Countess Sophia von Stolberg."