Chapter XXIV What to Do With Eunice
“Bab, will you come out on the hotel driveway a minute?” Ruth asked of Barbara. Miss Sallie and the girls were back in Lenox. Little Eunice was, for the present, staying at their hotel with them.
“I am not dressed, Ruth, dear. I shall join you in a minute,” Bab called back to her. “What’s the matter?”
“Wait and see, lady mine,” sang Ruth. “But do, do hurry. Mollie, Grace and I are waiting for you, and there is another friend with us whom you will be de-lighted to see!”
“Ralph, or Hugh?” Bab guessed.
“Neither one this time!” Ruth declared. “But now I must fly back. If you wish to know what is going on, hurry along.”
On the hotel driveway Bab first discovered Mr. Winthrop Latham with Aunt Sallie and Eunice. Eunice had her hand in her uncle’s. They had grown to be great friends.
A little farther on Barbara spied Ruth, Mollie and Grace. Near them stood a stable boy. He was leading a beautiful little horse about by the bridle. It was Beauty.
Barbara looked around for Dorothy or Gwendolin Morton. However, neither of the girls could be seen.
“Here comes Bab,” called Mollie.
But Barbara had already run up to Beauty.
“O girls, I believe she knows me!” Bab exclaimed in delight. The little horse neighed as Bab stroked its glossy neck. It put its pretty nose down near her hand and sniffed. Beauty plainly expected a lump of sugar as a reward for her morning call.
“How did you happen to bring the horse over?” Bab asked of the stable boy.
“The master said I was to put the horse in the hotel stables until it could be shipped,” the boy explained.
“Oh, some one has bought Beauty!” Bab cried, in distress. “I am so sorry! How could Dorothy Morton ever have been willing to sell her?”
Barbara noticed that Grace, Ruth and Mollie were smiling broadly. Mr. Winthrop Latham, Aunt Sallie and Eunice had drawn near.
“Why shouldn’t Dorothy Morton sell Beauty to a girl who cares more for the horse than Dorothy does?” Ruth inquired.
Bab shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, very well!” she pouted. “If Dorothy thinks there is any other horse in the world to compare with Beauty, she deserves to lose her. My sweet little Beauty, good-bye!” Barbara cried.
The stable boy grinned. Everyone was smiling.
“What’s the joke?” Bab asked.
“Beauty is yours, Bab!” cried Mollie.
Bab looked at Mollie indignantly. “It isn’t fair to tease me, Mollie,” she declared. “You know how much I really care.”
“But Mollie is not teasing you, Bab,” Ruth interrupted. “Read that tag!”
Surely enough, on a card fastened by a blue ribbon to Beauty’s bridle, Bab read her own name and her sister’s.
“But we cannot accept such a gift from the Ambassador!” Bab protested, feelingly.
“The Ambassador did not give us Beauty, Bab!” exclaimed Mollie.
But Barbara had thrown her arms around Ruth’s neck. “You are just the dearest, sweetest friend in the world, Ruth Stuart!” she cried. “And I’d love you more than ever if I could. But Mollie and I cannot accept Beauty from you. You have done too much for us.”
“Well, Bab,” laughed Ruth, “you are the most difficult person in the world to bestow a present upon; but I am not guilty.”
“Then who has given Beauty to us?” demanded Bab.
“No other person than Cousin Betty in St. Paul!” answered Mistress Mollie. “Do you remember, Bab? Mother wrote that Cousin Betty meant to give us a beautiful present when she came home. The present was to be a horse, and Cousin Betty is going to give us the money to take care of it. Mother was to buy the horse when she returned to Kingsbridge. When you wrote of your ride on Beauty, mother wrote to Ruth to inquire if the horse were for sale. The Ambassador and Dorothy were both willing to sell her to us, but to no one else.”
“I do not know what we have ever done to deserve such good fortune.” Barbara spoke so solemnly that her friends all laughed.
“But I have more news, and better news for you, Bab!” cried Mollie, triumphantly, “mother is willing for us to bring Eunice home with us for the winter!”
“Dear little Eunice!” Bab said, kissing the Indian girl.
“I shall never cease to be grateful to you and to your mother for this kindness,” declared Mr. Winthrop Latham, taking Barbara’s hand. “You know the difficult situation in which I am placed in regard to Eunice. I dare not take the child home, at present, to live with my sister-in-law and my nephew. It seemed even more cruel to send Eunice to boarding school while the child knows nothing of the world. But, if your kind mother will keep her with you, let her go to school, and teach her just a little of what you know, I shall be deeply in your debt.”
“No such thing, Mr. Latham!” laughed Mollie. “We are going to be in your debt for lending us Eunice. Mother will just love her.”
“But I am coming back next summer to see you and my grandmother?” Eunice begged. “You said, if I were very good, you would take me to ride in your balloon some day.”
Mr. Latham laughed. “Eunice will never be happy until she learns to fly,” he declared.
“I hate good-byes, don’t you, Aunt Sallie?” Barbara asked Miss Stuart that night. Ruth, Grace and Mollie were standing on a trunk trying to fasten it. “The Automobile Girls” were to leave Lenox early the next morning.
“Barbara, remember Ruth’s motto for ‘The Automobile Girls.’ We are never to say good-bye!”
“What then, Aunt Sallie?” asked Bab, Grace, Mollie and Ruth in chorus.
“‘The Automobile Girls’ are always to say,” declared Miss Sallie, gently, “not good-bye, but Auf Wiedersehen.”
POSTSCRIPT
Nor need the reader break this rule against saying “good-bye,” for our same splendid “Automobile Girls” are soon to be met with again, under astonishing and startling circumstances, and on historic ground. The next volume in this series will be published under the title: “The Automobile Girls Along the Hudson; Or, Fighting Fire in Sleepy Hollow.” In this spirited narrative, the girls will be shown doing the work of true heroines, yet amid many scenes of fun and humor. Every reader will agree that the coming book is “the best yet.”
The End