"No, it wouldn't have done Eunice any harm to tell that much, Mollie,"

Ruth agreed, "because, if that very determined Mrs. Latham wishes to discover where little Eunice is, she will certainly accomplish it. Why, she rules her grown-up son with a rod of iron!"

"Mark my words!" said Grace, joining quietly in the conversation--Grace was not often given to expressing an opinion, so even Miss Sallie listened to her with respect. "I would like to bet a great big box of candy that Mrs. Latham sees Eunice and her Indian grandmother before they are many weeks older. The Lathams have some connection with little Eunice, though goodness knows I can't guess what it is."

Mollie had nothing more to say. She was in the motor car now. Her tears could flow freely.

Miss Sallie pretended, for a few moments, not to see that Mollie was crying. A breach in social etiquette was a sore offense to Miss Stuart.

But after a little while she put her arm around the little girl and gave her a gentle squeeze.

"I will forgive you, this time, dear," she murmured, "but I never want you, Mollie, to be rude to a grown person again. And I don't think, my dear, it is a good idea to have a suspicious nature."

"I didn't mean to be rude," Mollie sighed, putting her head against Miss Stuart's arm. "I was only trying not to tell Mrs. Latham what she wanted to know." Because it was now dark, and Mollie could not see her face, Miss Sallie smiled.

CHAPTER XVII

A VISIT TO EUNICE

"O girls, I have had the most splendiferous time!" cried Bab, bounding into the hotel sitting room. She wore Ruth's tan colored riding habit and a little brown derby. Her curls were drawn up in a knot at the back of her head. Her brown eyes were sparkling. She pranced into the room, as though she were still on horseback.

"Miss Sallie, I never knew what horseback riding could mean until to-day.

Dorothy Morton has lent me a perfect dream of a horse. Its name is Beauty. It is black and slim and has a white star on its nose. My, don't I wish it were mine! Well, Beauty and I took our hurdles to-day, at the Amba.s.sador's farm, as though we had been jumping together all our lives.

See, here!" Barbara vaulted lightly over a low stool, and stood in the center of the room, brandishing her riding crop.

"Barbara Thurston!" Mollie exclaimed.

"Good gracious!" protested Bab. "I didn't dream we had a visitor. I am so sorry! I have been practising for the hurdle jumping next week," Bab ended tamely.

A stout man, with iron gray hair and a kindly expression, smiled at Barbara.

"Oh, don't mind my presence," he said. "I have a daughter of my own who is fond of horseback riding."

"Barbara," explained Miss Stuart, "this is Doctor Lewis. He has been good enough to come over from the hospital to tell us about Eunice."

Barbara noticed that Ruth, Grace and Mollie had been listening to the doctor with absorbed attention.

"The Indian girl has asked for her friends several times in the last few days," the doctor continued, "but she has not been well enough to be permitted to talk. The nurses tell me the child had been most patient.

They are much attracted toward her. Now, I think it may do the little girl good to see you. Naki, your guide has explained to me the circ.u.mstances of your finding of the child. It is most remarkable. But I wonder if you are really interested in the girl, or whether you are being kind to her, now, only because of her accident?"

"Why do you ask me, doctor?" Miss Stuart inquired quietly.

"Because," the doctor answered honestly, "I am much interested in the child myself. I would like to know that she has friends. The grandmother, stupid and ignorant though she is, seems devoted to the child. As for Eunice herself, she is an enigma. She is not in the least like the grandmother. The old Indian woman is probably of mixed white and Indian blood, but the child has less Indian blood. Eunice must have had a white mother or father. I have asked the child about her parents, but she knows absolutely nothing about them, and the Indian woman will not tell. She told me, very decidedly, that it was not my business to inquire; that I was to make Eunice well after which she and her grandchild would go back to their wigwam and live in peace. But that beautiful little girl ought not to grow up in entire ignorance. She should be educated, and given an opportunity to develop."

"I agree with you, doctor," Miss Sallie rejoined, "but the case will present difficulties. The old grandmother is the child's natural guardian. She will never be persuaded to give her up."

"Doctor," declared Ruth shyly, "if it were possible I should love to educate little Eunice. I could send her to school and do whatever is best for her. But I am afraid we have no right to do it for her."

"Well, I cannot recommend kidnapping the child, Miss Ruth," the doctor replied, "but, perhaps, you girls can persuade the old Indian to be less obstinate. Come and see my little charge when you can. She is quite well enough to see you. I shall not have to keep her at the hospital a great while longer. Her arm is still bandaged. She will soon be able to walk about."

"Aunt Sallie," Ruth asked, as soon as the doctor left, "may I have Eunice up at the hotel with us, as soon as she is well enough to leave the hospital?"

Miss Sallie demurred. "I must see the child again first, Ruth, dear. She can come here for the day, but not longer. She will be best with Naki and Ceally for a time. Now, Ruth, don't be so impetuous. You must not plan impossible schemes. Remember, this Indian child is entirely uneducated.

She does not know the first principles of good manners. But I am perfectly willing that you should do what seems best for her."

"When shall we go to see Eunice?" Ruth asked, turning to the other three girls.

"Oh, let us go this afternoon, please, Ruth," pleaded Mollie.

"But Mr. Latham has asked us to go driving with him," Barbara objected.

"Mr. Latham has only asked Aunt Sallie and one of us, Bab," Ruth rejoined. "Suppose you go with Aunt Sallie. Reginald Latham would rather have you along. And, to tell you the truth, Grace and Mollie and I would much rather go to see Eunice."

Mollie and Grace both nodded.

"But I don't want to be left out of the visit to Eunice, either," Bab protested. "Never mind," she went on, lowering her voice; "if Reginald Latham has any connection with Eunice, see if I don't find it out this afternoon."

"Never, Bab!" cried Grace.

"Well, just you wait and see!" ended Mistress Barbara.

"Mollie, you go into the room to see Eunice first," said Ruth as they reached the hospital. "Grace and I will wait outside the door. You can call us when you think we may come in. Eunice may be frightened."

But Ruth need not have feared.

As Mollie went into her room, Eunice was sitting up in bed. Her straight black hair was neatly combed and hung over her shoulders in two heavy braids. The child had on a fresh white night gown. Already she looked fairer from the short time spent indoors.

Eunice stretched out her slim brown hands to Mollie.

"My little fair one!" she cried rapturously.

"I feared never to see you again. My grandmother told me I must return to the wigwam as soon as I am well; but I do not want to leave this pretty bed. See how white and soft it is."

Mollie kissed Eunice.

The child looked at her curiously. "Why do you do such a strange thing to me?" asked Eunice.

Mollie was amazed. "Don't you know what a kiss is, Eunice? I kissed you because I am fond of you."

Eunice laughed gleefully. "Indians do not kiss," she declared. "But I like it."

"Shall I ask the other girls to come in?" Mollie inquired. "My two friends, Ruth and Grace, are waiting in the hall. They wish to see you."

Eunice nodded. "I like to see you while grandmother is away," she confided. "Grandmother says it is not wise for me to talk so much. But it is hard to be all the time so silent as the Indians are. Some days I have talked to the wild things in the woods."

Ruth dropped a bunch of red roses on Eunice's bed.