CHAPTER XII
BARBARA'S SECRET ERRAND
After the older woman had departed, Bab remained in a brown study. Hadshe been wise in accepting Mrs. Wilson's offer? Would it have been betterafter all to ask Ruth for the loan of the money? Bab sighed heavily. Shehad been so happy and so interested in Washington, and now Mollie'sill-advised purchase had changed everything. For a moment Barbara felt alittle resentment toward Mollie, then she shook off the feeling asunworthy. Mollie had experienced bitter remorse for her folly, and Babknew that her little sister had learned a lesson she would never forget.As for the money, it should be paid back at the earliest opportunity.
Barbara turned and went slowly upstairs to prepare for luncheon. Shefound Mollie sitting by the window in their room. Her pretty mouthdrooped at the corners and her eyes were red with weeping.
"Cheer up, Molliekins!" exclaimed Bab. "I've found a way out of thedifficulty."
"Oh, Bab," said Mollie in a shamed voice. "Did you have to tell Ruth?"
"No, dear," responded Bab. "Ruth knows nothing about it. Bathe your faceat once. It is almost time to go down to luncheon, and your eyes areawfully red. While you are fixing up I'll tell you about it."
"Oh, Bab!" Mollie said contritely when her sister had finished heraccount of what had happened in the study. "You're the best sister a girlever had. I don't believe I'll ever be so silly about my clothes again.This has cured me. I'm so sorry."
"Of course you are, little Sister," soothed Bab. "Don't say another word.Here comes Ruth and Grace."
The two girls entered the room at that moment and a little later the fourdescended to luncheon.
"I am going to do some shopping this afternoon," announced Ruth. "Wouldyou girls like to do the stores with me?"
"I'll go," replied Grace. "I want to buy a pair of white gloves and Ineed a number of small things."
"I have an engagement this afternoon," said Harriet enigmatically. "Imust ask you to excuse me, Ruth."
"Certainly, Harriet," returned Ruth. "How about you and Mollie, Bab?"
"Mollie can go with you," answered Bab, coloring slightly. "But wouldyou be disappointed if I do not go? I have something else that I amobliged to see to this afternoon."
"Of course, I'd love to have you with me, Bab, but you know your ownbusiness best."
Suspecting that Bab wished to spend the afternoon in going over her ownand Mollie's rather limited wardrobe, Ruth made no attempt to persuadeBab to make one of the shopping party, and when a little later A. Bubblecarried the three girls away, she went directly upstairs to prepare forher call on Mrs. Wilson. It was a beautiful afternoon, and Bab decidedthat she would walk to her destination. As she swung along through thecrisp December air the feeling of depression that had clung to her eversince Mollie had made her tearful confession vanished, and Bab becamealmost cheerful. She would save every penny, she reflected hopefully, andwhen she and Mollie received their next month's pocket money, she wouldsend that to Mrs. Wilson. It would take some time to pay back the fiftydollars, but Mrs. Wilson had assured her that she could return it at herown convenience. Bab felt that her vague distrust of this whole-souled,generous woman had been groundless, and in her impulsive, girlish fashionshe was ready to do everything in her power to make amends for evendoubting this fascinating stranger who had so nobly come to her rescue.
By following carefully the directions given her by Mrs. Wilson forfinding her house, Bab arrived at her destination with very littleconfusion. She looked at her watch as she ascended the steps and saw thatit was just half past four o'clock. "I'm on time at any rate," shemurmured as she rang the bell.
"Is Mrs. Wilson here?" she inquired of the maid who answered the bell.
"Come this way, please," said the maid, and Bab followed her across thesquare hall and through a door hung with heavy portieres. She foundherself in what appeared to be half library, half living room, and seemedespecially designed for comfort. A bright fire burned in the open fireplace at one side of the room, and before the fire stood a young man, whoturned abruptly as Bab entered.
"How do you do, Miss Thurston," said Peter Dillon, coming forward andtaking her hand.
"Why--I thought--" stammered Barbara, a look of keen disappointmentleaping into her brown eyes, "that Mrs. Wilson--was--"
"To be here," finished Peter Dillon, smiling almost tantalizingly at herevident embarrassment. "So she was, but she received a telephone messagehalf an hour ago and was obliged to go out for a little while. Ihappened to be here when the message came and she told me that sheexpected you to call at half past four o'clock and asked me if I wouldwait and receive you. She left a note for you in my care. Here it is."
Peter Dillon handed Bab an envelope addressed to "Miss Barbara Thurston,"looking at her searchingly as he did so. Bab colored hotly under hisalmost impertinent scrutiny as she reached out her hand for the envelope.She had an uncomfortable feeling at that moment that perhaps Peter Dillonknew as much about the contents of the envelope as she did.
"Thank you, Mr. Dillon," she said in a low voice. "I think I won't waitfor Mrs. Wilson. Please tell her that I thank her and that I'll write."
"Very well," replied the young man. "I will deliver your message." Heheld the heavy portieres back for Bab as she stepped into the hall andaccompanied her to the vestibule door. "Good-bye, Miss Thurston," he saidwith a peculiar, meaning flash of his blue eyes that completed Bab'sdiscomfiture. "I shall hope to see you in a day or two."
Bab hurried down the steps and into the street. The shadows werebeginning to fall and in another hour it would be dark. When she reachedthe corner she looked about her in bewilderment, then with a littleimpatient exclamation she wheeled and retraced her steps. She had beengoing in the wrong direction. She had passed Mrs. Wilson's house, when amurmur of familiar voices caused her to start and look back at it inamazement. Stepping off the walk and behind the trunk of a great tree,Barbara stared from her place of concealment, hardly able to believe theevidence of her own eyes. Peter Dillon was standing just outside thevestibule door, his hat in his hand and just inside stood Mrs. Wilson.The two were deep in conversation and Bab heard the young man's musicallaugh ring out as though something had greatly amused him. Filled with asickening apprehension that she was the cause of his laughter, Babstepped from behind the tree unobserved by the two on the step above andwalked on down the street assailed by the disquieting suspicion that Mrs.Wilson had had a motive far from disinterested in lending her the fiftydollars. She glanced down at the envelope in her hand. She felt positivethat it contained the money, and her woman's intuition told her thatPeter Dillon's presence in the house had not been a matter of chance. Sheexperienced a strong desire to run back to the house and return theenvelope unopened, and at the same time ask Mrs. Wilson why Peter haduntruthfully declared that she was not at home. Bab paused irresolutely.Then a vision of Mollie's tearful face rose before her, and squaring hershoulders, she marched along through the gathering twilight, determinedto use the borrowed money to pay Mollie's debt and face the consequenceswhatever they might be.
When Bab reached home she found that Harriet had come in and gone to herroom, while the other girls had not yet returned. Barbara was glad thatno one had discovered her absence, and divesting herself of her hat andcoat she hurried up to her room. Closing and locking the door, she satdown and tore open the envelope and with hands that trembled, drew out afolded paper. Inside the folded paper was a crisp fifty dollar bill. Mrs.Wilson had kept her word.
While she sat fingering the bill, she heard voices downstairs and amoment later Mollie tried the door, then knocked. Bab rose and unlockedthe door for her sister.
"Did you get it, Bab?" asked Mollie eagerly, a deep flush risingto her face.
"Yes, Molliekins, here it is," answered Barbara quietly, holding up themoney. "To-morrow you and I will go to Madame Louise and pay the bill."
"Oh, Bab," said Mollie, her lips quivering. "I'm so sorry. I've been somuch trouble, but I'll save every cent of my pocket money and pa
y Mrs.Wilson as soon as I can. It was so good of her to lend us the moneywasn't it?"
Barbara merely nodded. Her early gratitude toward Mrs. Wilson hadvanished, in spite of her efforts to believe in Mrs. Wilson, her firstfeeling of distrust had returned. She thought gloomily, as she listenedto Mollie's praise of Mrs. Wilson's generosity, that perhaps after all itwould have been better to pay a visit to the pawn broker.