"Yes, dear."

"Not one step will I go until I have made myself more beautiful,"

declared Ruth.

"I don't think that would be possible," said Bab in a tone calculated for Ruth's ears alone.

"Don't," begged Ruth. "I shall think you insincere if you don't stop talking that way. And my face is so besmudged that I am not fit to see anyone. You must come upstairs with me," she added, linking an arm in Barbara's. "Please tell them we shall be right down, Auntie."

Olive went directly to the library to see her parents. The other girls soon followed her. The library was darkened, lighted only by the snapping fire in the fireplace. Mr. Presby explained that he had come into town to see Mr. Stuart, who was at that moment welcoming him. Mr.

Stuart excused himself, promising that he would return to his guests as soon as he had telephoned certain necessary orders to his office. Mr.

Stuart had barely left the room when Bab and Ruth entered. Olive came forward quickly. She took Barbara's arm in hers, steering Bab toward Mrs. Presby.

"I want you to meet my mother. I know you will love her, for she's a dear. Mama, this is Barbara Thurston, of whom you have heard so much. I can a.s.sure you that she has not been overrated."

Bab moved blushingly forward. The floor was one of those slippery, hard-wood traps for the unwary. Barbara was not used to polished floors.

She took a long step to keep up with Olive, who was moving rapidly.

Bab's foot came in contact with a small rug, and together the rug and foot slid over the slippery floor.

Barbara Thurston's other foot followed the first. Realizing that a fall was inevitable, Barbara quickly released her arm from Miss Presby's.

"Oh!" exclaimed Bab, and sat down on the floor with such force that it jarred her from head to foot. There was a distinct vibration from several articles in the room as though they were moving out of sheer sympathy for the unfortunate girl.

Barbara struggled to her feet. Again she stumbled over the rug that had caused her to fall, and brought up heavily against a dark object near by. The object uttered a deep groan, as out of the shadows limped an elderly, dignified man. Pain and anger were struggling for the mastery of his facial expression. Barbara had landed fairly on Mr. Richard Presby's gouty foot.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," pleaded the girl. "I am so awkward and I did not see you at all. Please forgive me, if you can," she begged.

Mr. Presby, however, merely grunted out some unintelligible words. That he was not appeased by her contrition was plain to be seen. He had been in the act of rising to his feet to bow to the girls when Bab collided with him. Grace, Mollie and Ruth, who had followed Barbara into the room, suppressed their giggles with no little effort.

Barbara rushed toward the shadowy, far corner of the room, where she sought to hide her confusion. She flung herself into a great, easy chair. Something under her moved and wriggled.

"Oh, I say," exclaimed a voice from under her. "Get up. Don't put me out of business, too."

Bab sprang to her feet, her face burning with humiliation. She whirled about and peered into the depths of the chair. There sat a boy of twelve, grinning from ear to ear.

"I'm Tom," he informed her. "Lucky for me it wasn't I who stepped on the governor's game foot."

"Oh!" cried Barbara.

"I forgive you for sitting on me, but gracious, you're heavy."

Just at this moment Olive Presby, had hurried across the room. There was deep sympathy in her face as she extended a hand to the embarra.s.sed Barbara.

"Don't mind it at all, dear. It is a thing that occurs to all of us frequently. Polished floors are such a nuisance," said Olive.

The other girls had been introduced to Mrs. Presby in the meantime. It was now Bab's turn, but instead of being first, as Olive had intended, she was last. Her face was still flushed and her eyelids drooped as she was presented.

Mrs. Presby pulled the girl's head down between two warm hands and gazed into her eyes, then kissed Barbara full on the lips.

"Never mind, my dear," she said. "You couldn't help it."

"If I could have a good cry, I know I should feel better," was Bab's plaintive rejoinder.

"Richard, come here, please, and shake hands with Miss Thurston,"

commanded Aunt Jane in a slightly peremptory tone. Mr. Presby did so, but with apparent reluctance. He had had one experience with the brown-haired girl from Kingsbridge.

"My dears, we want you to come to Treasureholme with us. We cannot spare Olive, so you will have to come to us," smiled Mrs. Presby.

"We want you to come out for Christmas," interjected Mr. Presby rather grudgingly, and as if he were reciting a line from memory.

"Before Christmas," nodded Mrs. Presby. "You must come out this week.

Sallie, you will come with them. We shall expect Robert also, though I suppose he will be running away to the city all the time."

"I don't know whether Robert will wish to spare the girls or not. He likes to have them with him as much as possible," said Miss Sallie.

"Treasureholme? What a beautiful name!" breathed Barbara.

"And such a romantic name too," added Mollie soulfully. "I could love the place just on account of its name."

"We call the place 'Treasureholme' because it is or has been supposed to hold a lost treasure. But we have given up that idea. We gave it up a long, long time ago. You will come, won't you, girls? This, in all probability, will be our last Christmas in the old home. We wish to make it a bright and joyous occasion," said Mrs. Presby, with a wan smile.

"We have planned to have a Christmas tree. Cousin Robert, you and Sallie can have the gifts delivered at our place just as well as at your home here."

"I shall have to leave it all to Robert," answered Miss Sallie.

"Robert's business, as you know, is giving him no little concern these days. He may not care to leave it, and I am certain he would not consent to the girls going away at this time unless it were possible for him to spend at least part of the time with them."

"Then I shall talk with Robert myself," announced Mrs. Presby firmly.

She did so then and there. Rather, she went directly to Mr. Stuart's own particular sanctum, where Robert and Mr. Presby were then in consultation over business matters. Mr. Stuart did object to the girls going to Treasureholme to spend Christmas. But Mrs. Presby pleaded with him to let them come. She told him that before another Christmas came Treasureholme would be in other hands. She pleaded with Robert Stuart to let nothing stand in the way of helping them all to have a joyous holiday in the old home.

Mr. Stuart finally gave a reluctant consent. Mrs. Presby hurried back to the library to acquaint the girls with his decision. A merry chatter followed. Everyone talked at once, each making suggestions as to what should be worn and how the Christmas holiday should be spent in the country. As for the "Automobile Girls" from Kingsbridge, the idea of going to the country appealed to them strongly. It would seem almost like being home again. It must be confessed that Bab and Mollie now and then suffered the pangs of homesickness, even though they found so little time for their own thoughts.

It was finally decided that they were to leave for Treasureholme, a distance of more than thirty miles from the city, on the following Monday, three days hence. Mrs. Presby consented to Olive remaining with them until that time, and accompanying the girls to the country in Ruth's motor car. That arrangement stood. The guests declined an invitation to remain to dinner and as soon as the two men had finished their business talk, Mr. and Mrs. Presby took their leave.

Two of the following three days were given up to a round of sight-seeing, paying and receiving calls on friends of the Stuarts, during which time the cylinders of Ruth's automobile scarcely had time to grow cold. Mr. A. Bubble was doing his full duty during these happy days.

Sunday was a day of rest. All were ready for the rest, too. The Kingsbridge girls looked a little more pale than usual, but their eyes were bright and sparkling when Monday morning arrived. It was a clear, frosty morning, with a suggestion of snow in the air. Miss Sallie had risen early, in order to have plenty of time to make all arrangements for their trip. She saw to it also that the girls' wardrobes were properly selected for their stay in the country, and suggested that they have the chauffeur drive them out.

"No, indeed," objected Ruth. "I am not wholly a fair-weather driver. I shall have my heavy gloves. Therefore, my hands will be warm and my feet will be so well occupied with working the brake and control that they won't have time to get cold. Girls, you won't have anything to do, so wrap yourselves up. Auntie, I'm going to get out some of father's heavy coats. He won't need them."

"A jolly good idea," agreed Mollie. "Always provided that the master of the house doesn't object," she added, smiling at Mr. Stuart.

"My dear, if you had lived in this house as long as I have, you would understand that it would make little difference if the master of the house did object," interjected Mr. Stuart.

"Oh, dad," chided Ruth. "How can you say such a thing? You know I am your dutiful daughter."

"You suit me," answered Mr. Stuart, giving the protesting Ruth a quick embrace and a kiss on the forehead. "Yes, take anything you can find in the house. But leave the house. I may need it before I get out of the woods."

A shadow flitted across the face of Ruth Stuart. Then she smiled and kissed her father affectionately. A search for coats was made and a thousand and one details attended to. It was well into the afternoon before they were ready to start, Bab wrapped in Mr. Stuart's long fur coat, the other girls in cloth coats, with the exception of Ruth, who wore her own sealskin coat that reached down to her ankles. A fur cap, silk lined and a pair of fur gloves that looked, Barbara said, like the feet of a bear, completed the outfit.

Mr. A. Bubble was grumbling when the girls emerged from the house. Their bags had been strapped on behind. Inside the automobile there were four foot warmers. Bab and Ruth spurned theirs. With many urgings on the part of Mr. Stuart and Aunt Sallie to be careful, Ruth threw in the clutch, advanced the spark and Mr. A. Bubble wheeled himself slowly away from the house, out into the avenue, then launched into a burst of speed that set at defiance all the regulations of the Windy City.