“Miss Ruth,” said the major, after greetings had been exchanged, “if you can run this machine, suppose we start at once and leave my chauffeur to follow with yours. You ladies must be very hungry. We will have an early luncheon.”
The girls said good-bye to the Gypsies and thanked them graciously. Ruth had tried to compensate Granny Ann, but the old woman had haughtily refused to accept a cent.
“A Gypsy takes nothing from his guest,” she said, and Ruth was obliged to let the matter drop. However, she made the old Gypsy promise to bring her granddaughter over to see them very soon, and as they disappeared down the road, they saw Zerlina leaning against a tree, watching them wistfully.
At last, the journey which had been so full of peril and adventure was ended, and “The Automobile Girls” arrived safely at Ten Eyck Hall.
CHAPTER IX—TEN EYCK HALL
Ten Eyck Hall, with its high-peaked roofs, its rambling wings and innumerable dormer windows, seemed to the four girls the very home of romance.
It was an enormous house built of brick, turned a faded pink, now, from age, which made a delicate background for the heavy vines that shaded the piazzas and balconies and clambered up to the roof itself.
The handsome old master of this charming house leaped to the ground as lightly as one of his nephews, the moment the automobile drew up at the front door. Lifting his hat he made a low, old-fashioned bow.
“Dear ladies,” he said, “you are as welcome to my home as the flowers in spring!” Giving his arm to Miss Stuart, he conducted her up the front steps. The great double doors flew open as if by magic, and the party filed into the vast center hall, on each side of which stood the servants of the household, headed by the butler and his wife, the housekeeper.
“Dear me,” exclaimed Miss Sallie, “I feel as if I were entering a baronial castle. Why did you never tell me years ago you owned such a fine place, John Ten Eyck?”