“Because I didn’t in those days, Sallie,” answered the major. “There were several heirs ahead of me then. But I always wanted you to come and see it. Don’t you remember my mother wrote and asked you to make us a visit? But you were going abroad, that summer, and couldn’t come.”
“Well, I was a very foolish girl,” replied Miss Sallie. “But better late than never, John, and it will be a pleasure to see the young people enjoy themselves in this beautiful house.”
Some of the young people were already plainly showing their delight and pleasure in the visit. The major made a smiling gesture toward the four young girls, who, with arms around each other’s waists, were strolling up the great hall toward the fireplace at the far end, pausing here and there to look at the fine old portraits and curious carved cabinets and settees. Many of the latter had been collected by the major during his travels abroad.
“I feel like a princess in a castle, Major,” called Ruth.
“And here comes one of the princes, my dear,” answered the major, glancing up at the broad staircase which occupied one side of the hall. All eyes followed the direction of his gaze, and an exclamation of surprise escaped the lips of the automobilists. For there, on the landing of the staircase, looking down at the little group of people below as calmly as a real prince might regard his subjects, was the motor cyclist.
“Why, it’s Mr. Martinez!” exclaimed Miss Sallie. “How are you?” she said graciously, as he descended the broad staircase. “We had no idea you were a friend of the major’s, too.”
“Nor had I, Madam,” replied the young man, as he bowed low over Miss Stuart’s hand and acknowledged the greetings of the girls. “I did not know who Major Ten Eyck was when he was stopping at the hotel, or I should have presented my letter there. It was a surprise to find in him the same gentleman I had come down to meet, and it is, indeed, a great pleasure and surprise to meet you and the young ladies so soon again.”
“Martinez is the son of an old friend of mine, José Martinez of Madrid,” broke in the major. “But how did you happen to meet him?”
Miss Stuart explained that he was the brave young man who had saved them from the attack of the drunken tramp.
“My dear José,” exclaimed the major, grasping him cordially by the hand, “you were brave. It was an act worthy of your father, and I can say no more for you than that.”