CHAPTER XVIII
BETTY UNDERSTANDS
Betty hurried back and began a hasty inspection of the rooms. Sherecollected seeing Libbie upstairs at the door of Washington's roomthe last time she had definitely noticed her, and she ran upstairs tosee if she might not be there.
No Libbie was in any of the rooms.
Downstairs she searched hurriedly, peeping under people's elbows,trying not to annoy others and yet to make a thorough hunt in a shorttime so as not to keep the others waiting. Then in the music room, orEast Parlor, as it is often called, she found the truant, gazing withrapt eyes at the quaint old harpsichord which had belonged to NellieCustis.
"Every one is waiting for you," announced Betty, pulling her gentlyby the sleeve. "Come on, Libbie, we're all going. We've seen thewhole house."
Libbie followed in a sort of daze, and when they rejoined the othersshe seemed to be still in a brown study.
"For goodness sake," prodded Bobby impatiently, "what were you doingback there? We nearly went off and left you. Where did you find her,Betty?"
"I was in the music room," announced Libbie with dignity. "I wantedto see the harpsichord. Say, girls, did you know Washington gave thatto Nellie Custis when she was married? He wore his uniform when hegave her away, and--"
"Well, for pity's sake!" Bobby's disgust was ludicrous. "TrustLibbie to dig up a romance wherever she goes. What else did you findconnected with weddings, Lib?"
Libbie was inclined to be ruffled, but Mrs. Littell soothed thetroubled waters by telling them that the old barn, which they hadreached by this time, was built in 1733 by Washington's father andthat the bricks were supposed to have been imported from England.
The beautiful old formal garden further mellowed their tempers, forit was impossible to say sharp things walking along the very pathswhich George Washington had often trod and between the rows of boxbrushed by the silken skirts of Mrs. Washington. Where her rosebushes used to be are planted others, and Mrs. Littell assured thegirls that it was one of the great pleasures of the First Lady of theLand to gather rose leaves for her potpourri jars and to make aperfumed unguent for which she was famous among her friends.
"She was a wonderful housekeeper," added Mrs. Littell, smiling atLibbie, whose momentary resentment had quickly faded, "and a veryfine manager. We are told that she was thoroughly domestic in hertastes and that she made her husband ideally happy."
Presently Carter came with a hamper of luncheon and their appetitesdid full justice to Mammy Lou's dainties. Betty wondered, sitting onthe grass, the Potomac flowing lazily several feet below, whether shewas dreaming and might not wake up to find herself at Bramble Farmwith Mr. Peabody scolding vigorously because something had not goneto suit him. She often had this odd feeling that her presenthappiness could not be real.
This, too, brought the thought of her uncle to her mind, and againshe wondered if she would ever hear from him--if something dreadfulhad not happened to him, leaving her almost as much alone in theworld as Bob Henderson. She shivered a little, then resolutely threwherself into the chatter of the other girls and soon forgot all butthe present pleasure and excitement.
After rambling about the grounds another hour or so, the party fromFairfield was ready to go, and they all found it restful to lean backin the comfortable car and spin back to the city.
"If you're not too tired I think we might drive down PennsylvaniaAvenue," suggested Mrs. Littell. "Our guests haven't seen the WhiteHouse yet, have they?"
Neither Betty nor Libbie had, and as the car turned into the famousthoroughfare both girls sat up alertly so as not to miss a singlesight of interest. Carter slowed down as they approached a high ironfence, and at the first glimpse of the white mansion separated fromthe fence and street by a wide stretch of lawn, Libbie shoutedjoyfully.
"The White House!"
"Well, you needn't tell everybody," cautioned Bobby. "Think of theweddings they've held in there, Libbie!"
"I imagine any one who has ever seen a picture of the White Houserecognizes it instantly," said Betty, fearing a resumption ofcousinly hostilities. "How beautiful the grounds are."
"You must go through it some day soon," said Mrs. Littell. "And nowwe'll drive to the Capitol. Day after to-morrow would be a good timefor you to take the girls to the Capitol, Bobby."
The Capitol reminded Libbie of a pin tray she had at home, and awokerecollection in Betty's mind of a bronze plaque that had been one ofMrs. Arnold's treasures in the stiff little parlor of the Pinevillehouse. All good Americans know the White House and the Capitol longbefore they make a pilgrimage to Washington.
On their arrival at Fairfields they found Mr. Littell playingsolitaire, and something in his undisguised relief at seeing themmade Betty wonder if time did not hang heavily on his hands.
After dinner Bobby proposed that they turn on the phonograph andhave a little dance among themselves.
"Oh, that will be fine!" cried Betty.
"Then you can dance?"
"A little--mother taught me."
So the girls danced and had a good time generally for an hour ormore, with Mr. and Mrs. Littell looking on. Then Betty sank down onthe arm of Mr. Littell's chair.
"I've been thinking of something," she half whispered. "Do you liketo play checkers? If you do, I know how."
Maybe Mr. Littell understood that she was doing it largely to keephim company. But he said nothing, and they played checkers for nearlytwo hours. Betty was a fairly good player and managed to land severalvictories.
"With a little more practice you'll make a very good player,"declared Mr. Littell. "I appreciate your staying to play with acripple like me," he added gratefully. "Does your Uncle Dick play?"
"I don't really know," replied the girl, and now her face cloudedfor an instant. Oh, why didn't she hear from Uncle Dick?
The next few days were filled with sightseeing trips. Betty was kepttoo busy to have much time to worry, which was fortunate, for no wordcame from her uncle and no word reached her from Bob Henderson. TheGuerins and the Benders wrote to her, and each letter mentioned thefact that Bob had sent a postal from Washington, but that no laterword had come from him.
"I met Peabody on the road yesterday," ran a postscript to NormaGuerin's letter, written by her doctor father. "He hinted darkly thatBob had done something that might land him in jail, but I couldn'tforce out of him what fearful thing Bob had done. I hope the ladhasn't been rash, for Peabody never forgives a wrong, real or fancied."
Betty knew that the farmer's action had to do with the unrecordeddeed, but she did not feel that she should make any disclosures inthat connection. Of Bob's innocence she was sure, and time wouldcertainly clear him of any implication.
The girls visited the Capitol, seeing the great bronze doors thatare nineteen feet high and weight ten tons. Betty was fascinated bythe eight panels, and studied them till the others threatened toleave her there over night and call for her in the morning. Then sheconsented to make the tour of the three buildings. But the historicalpaintings again held her spellbound. When she reached the Senatechamber, which was empty, except for a page or two, the Senate notbeing in session, she dropped into a gallery seat and tried toimagine the famous scenes enacted there. They spent the better partof a day at the Capitol, and saw practically everything in thebuildings. They were so tired that night that Libbie went to sleepover her dessert, and Betty dreamed all night of defending the citywith a shotgun from the great gilded dome. But she and Libbie agreedthat they would not have missed it for anything.