“It is fifteen miles back in the country, and I have heard no rumor of any fires in that vicinity lately. The boys and I are leaving this afternoon. We will see that everything is ship-shape, and you and the girls could follow to-morrow. I have an excellent housekeeper. She and her husband were a young couple when I went away, and they have lived at the place ever since. I am certain she can make you comfortable. I will give Miss Ruth explicit directions about the route. It is a fairly good road for motoring. We have a fine place for dancing there, young ladies. There’s a famous floor in what, in my grandmother’s time, we used to call the red drawing-room. There are dozens of places for picnics, pretty valleys and creeks that I explored and knew intimately in my youth. I have some good horses in my stables, Miss Barbara, if you have a fancy for riding,” he continued, turning to Barbara with such grace of manner that she blushed for pleasure.
Looking from one eager face to another, and finally into the major’s kindly gray eyes, Miss Sallie melted into acquiescence and the party was made up forthwith.
The major then pointed out to Ruth and Barbara the street they were to take, which would lead to the road to his old home. He drew a map on a piece of paper, so that they could make no mistake.
“When you come to the crossroads,” he added, as a parting caution, “take the one with the bridge, which you can see beyond. The other road is roundabout and full of ruts besides.”
Just then the horn of an automobile was heard, as a large touring car containing four young men and a deal of baggage, drew up in front of the hotel. At the same time, Barbara, who was still facing the window, saw the figure on the other side of the curtain steal quietly away.
Major Ten Eyck went forward to meet the newcomers, and he and his two nephews had a little earnest conversation together for a few moments. The young men looked up, saw Miss Sallie and the girls, and all four caps came off simultaneously.
“Please don’t go yet,” called the major, as Miss Stuart rose to leave. “I want to introduce the boys first.”
Stephen and Martin Ten Eyck were handsome, sturdy youths, with clear cut features. The two visitors were far different in type; one, Alfred Marsdale, a young English friend, who was spending the summer with the Ten Eycks, and the other, Jimmie Butler, who seemed to have come from nowhere in particular but to have been everywhere.
“And now come along, boys,” urged the major, after he had given the young people a chance to talk a few minutes. “These ladies want their ride, I know, and we must be off for the hall before it gets too hot for endurance.”
With a last caution to Ruth about the proper road to Ten Eyck Hall, and a reminder to Miss Stuart not to break her promise, the major ushered his boys into the hotel office, while “The Automobile Girls” went up to their rooms.