"Oh!" exclaimed Bab, and sat down on the floor with such force that it jarred her from head to foot. There was a distinct vibration from several articles in the room as though they were moving out of sheer sympathy for the unfortunate girl.
Barbara struggled to her feet. Again she stumbled over the rug that had caused her to fall, and brought up heavily against a dark object near by. The object uttered a deep groan, as out of the shadows limped an elderly, dignified man. Pain and anger were struggling for the mastery of his facial expression. Barbara had landed fairly on Mr. Richard Presby's gouty foot.
"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," pleaded the girl. "I am so awkward and I did not see you at all. Please forgive me, if you can," she begged.
Mr. Presby, however, merely grunted out some unintelligible words. That he was not appeased by her contrition was plain to be seen. He had been in the act of rising to his feet to bow to the girls when Bab collided with him. Grace, Mollie and Ruth, who had followed Barbara into the room, suppressed their giggles with no little effort.
Barbara rushed toward the shadowy, far corner of the room, where she sought to hide her confusion. She flung herself into a great, easy chair. Something under her moved and wriggled.
"Oh, I say," exclaimed a voice from under her. "Get up. Don't put me out of business, too."
Bab sprang to her feet, her face burning with humiliation. She whirled about and peered into the depths of the chair. There sat a boy of twelve, grinning from ear to ear.
"I'm Tom," he informed her. "Lucky for me it wasn't I who stepped on the governor's game foot."
"Oh!" cried Barbara.
"I forgive you for sitting on me, but gracious, you're heavy."