Soon Bab asked: "You don't need me any more, do you, mother? Because, if you don't, I am going up to look in the treasure chest. I want to find something to re-trim Mollie's hat. The roses are so faded, on the one she is wearing, it will never do to wear with her nice spring suit."

There was a little attic over the cottage, and it almost belonged to Barbara. Up there she used to study her lessons, write poetry, and dream of the wonderful things she hoped to do in order to make mother and Mollie rich.

Barbara skipped over to the trunk, where they kept odds and ends of faded finery, gifts from rich cousins who sent their cast-off clothes to the little girls. "This is like Pandora's chest," laughed Barbara to herself. "It looks as if everything, now, has gone out of it, except Hope."

b.u.mp! bang! crash! the chandelier shivered over Mrs. Thurston and Mollie's heads. Both started up with the one word, "Bab," on their lips.

It was impossible to know what she would attempt, or what would happen to her next.

Just as they reached the foot of the attic steps an apologetic head appeared over the railing. "I am not hurt," Bab's voice explained. "I just tried to move the old bureau so I could see better, and I knocked over a trunk. I am so sorry, mother, but the trunk has broken open. It is that old one of yours. I know it made an awful racket!"

"It does not matter, child," Mrs. Thurston said in a relieved tone, when she saw what had actually happened. "Nothing matters, since you have not killed yourself."

She bent over her trunk. The old lock had been loosened by the fall, and the top had tumbled off. On the floor were a yellow roll of papers, and a quaint carved fan. Mrs. Thurston picked them up. The papers she dropped in the tray of the trunk, but the fan she kept in her hand.

"This little fan," she said, "I used at the last party your father and I attended together the week before we were married. I have kept it a long time, and I think it very beautiful." She opened, with loving fingers, a fan of delicately-carved ivory, mounted in silver, and hung on a curious silver chain. "Your great-uncle brought it to me from China, when I was just your age, Mollie! It was given him by a viceroy, in recognition of a service rendered. Which of my daughters would like to take this fan to Newport?"

Barbara shook her head, while Mollie looked at it with longing eyes. "I don't believe either of us had better take it," protested Bab, "you have kept it so carefully all this time."

But her mother said decidedly: "I saved it only for you girls. Here, Mollie, suppose you take it; we will find something else for Bab."

As Mollie and her mother lifted out the tray of the old trunk, Bab's eyes caught sight of the roll of papers, and she picked them up.

"h.e.l.lo, h.e.l.lo!" a cheerful voice sounded from downstairs.

"It's Grace Carter," said Mollie. "You don't mind her coming up, do you, mother?"

Grace was almost a third daughter at the little Thurston cottage. Her own home was big and dull! her mother was a stern, cold woman, and her two brothers were much older than Grace.

"No," said Mrs. Thurston, going on with her search.

"I couldn't keep away, chilluns," apologized Grace as she came upstairs.

"Mother told me I'd be dreadfully in the way, but I just had to talk about our trip. Isn't it too splendid! You are not having secrets, are you?"

"Not from you," Mrs. Thurston said. "See what I have found for Bab."

Mrs. Thurston held out an open jewel-case. In it was a beautiful spray of pink coral, and a round coral pin.

"I think, Bab, dear," she said, "you are old enough, now, for such simple jewelry. I will buy you a white muslin, and you can wear this pin at your throat and the spray in your hair. Then, with a coral ribbon sash, who knows but you may be one of the belles of a Newport party?"

Barbara flushed with pleasure over the gifts, but she looked so embarra.s.sed at her mother's compliment that Mollie and Grace both laughed.

"I declare," Grace said, "you have less vanity than any girl in the world. Oh, wasn't it fortunate I discovered your money yesterday? Just as we all jumped out of the car I heard something clink, and picked up one of your twenty dollars. Harry Townsend said he found the other tucked away in the leather of the front seat."

"And I sat in the back seat all the time I was in the car," reflected Barbara, under her breath.

When a turquoise blue heart on a string of tiny beads had been added to Mollie's "going-away" treasures, she and Grace went down stairs.

Barbara still held the roll of papers in her hand and kept turning them over and over, trying to read the faded writing. She caught sight of her father's signature. "Are these papers valuable?" she asked her mother.

Mrs. Thurston sighed deeply as she answered: "They are old papers of your father's. Put them away again. I never like to look at them. I found them in his business suit after he was dead. He had sent it to the tailor, and had forgotten all about it." Mrs. Thurston took the papers from Barbara's hand and put them back into her trunk.

"Do you think they are valuable, mother?" persisted Barbara.

"I don't think so," her mother concluded. "Your uncle told me he looked over all your father's papers that were of any value."

After the two had mended the lock of the old trunk, and turned to leave the attic, Barbara was still thinking. "Dearest," she said thoughtfully, "would you mind my going through those papers some time?" To herself Bab added: "I'd like to ask a clever business man, like Mr. Stuart, to explain them to me."

But Mrs. Thurston sighed as she said: "Oh, yes, you may look them over, some day, if you like. It won't make any difference."

What difference it might make neither Mrs. Thurston or Barbara could then know.

CHAPTER V-THE GLORIOUS START

Before daylight, on the great day, Mollie's two arms encircled a sleepy Barbara, and a soft voice whispered in her ear: "It isn't true, is it, Bab, that you and I, two insignificant little girls, who never could have conceived of anything so glorious, are off to-day for Newport, escorted by Ruth's distinguished friend, 'Mr. A. Bubble'?"

Barbara was wide awake in a minute.

"I suppose it's true," she said, "because it was last night, before we went to bed. Otherwise I would think we had both dreamed it."

The two girls talked in excited whispers. It wouldn't do to waken mother any earlier than they must, for she was tired with their preparations, though her daughters had persuaded her to have a little country girl in to help with the work, now that she was to have so important a person as Mr. Stuart for "boarder."

But at seven o'clock it was mother who called:

"Get up, girls. It is time for coffee and clothes, if you are to start off at ten as you promised. It will not do to keep Miss Stuart and the girls waiting. As for Mr. A. Bubble, I don't believe he can stand still, even if he tries."

Aunt Sallie having called on Sunday afternoon, had waived ceremony and stayed to tea in the tiny cottage, so impressed was she with Mrs.

Thurston's quiet charm and gentle manners.

The two girls hurried into their kimonos. Mother had suggested these garments for this morning, since they were to dress so soon afterwards in their "going away" clothes.

By the time that Barbara and Mollie had put on their pretty brown and blue serge suits, with their dust coats over them, they heard strange noises on the front porch, mingled with giggles and whispers. Barbara was putting the sixth hat pin into her hat, and tying the motor veil so tightly under her chin that it choked her, when Mollie peeped out the front window.

"It's a surprise party, I do believe," she whispered. "There's Harold Smith, with a big bunch of pink roses. I know they are for you. The girls have little bundles in their hands. What fun! I didn't know they had heard of our trip. How fast news _does_ fly around this village."

While Mollie and Barbara were saying their good-byes on their little veranda there was equal excitement at the big hotel.

Before breakfast Ruth had gone out to the garage with her arm in her father's.

"I want to see with my own eyes, Dad," she said, "that the machine is all right. Isn't it well that I have a taste for mechanics, even though I am a girl? Suppose I hadn't studied all those automobile books with you until I could say them backwards, and hadn't helped you over all the accidents-you never would have let me go on this heavenly trip, would you? I am going to be as careful as can be, just to show you did right to trust me, also not to give Aunt Sallie a chance to say, 'I told you so.'"

Ruth had pretty, sunny, red-gold hair and big, gray-blue eyes. Though she wasn't exactly a beauty, her face was so frank, and her coloring so fresh and lovely, many people thought her very good-looking.

Mr. Stuart smiled at his daughter's enthusiasm. "She's 'a chip of the old block,'" he said to himself. "She loves fun and adventure and 'getting there,' like a man. I am not going to stand in her way."

Mr. Stuart was feeling rather nervous about the trip this morning, but he didn't intend Ruth to know.

To judge by the looks of the automobile, the chauffeur must have been up all night. The machinery was cleaned and oiled. The extra tires, in their dark red leather cases, were strapped to the sides of the car. A great box of extra rugs and wraps, rubber covers for the machine and mackintoshes in case of rain, was tied on the back. Between the seats was an open hamper for lunch, with an English tea service in one compartment, and cups, saucers, a teapot and a hot-water jug and alcohol lamp, all complete. The luncheon was to be sent down later from the hotel.