Just at this moment Olive Presby, had hurried across the room. There was deep sympathy in her face as she extended a hand to the embarrassed Barbara.
"Don't mind it at all, dear. It is a thing that occurs to all of us frequently. Polished floors are such a nuisance," said Olive.
The other girls had been introduced to Mrs. Presby in the meantime. It was now Bab's turn, but instead of being first, as Olive had intended, she was last. Her face was still flushed and her eyelids drooped as she was presented.
Mrs. Presby pulled the girl's head down between two warm hands and gazed into her eyes, then kissed Barbara full on the lips.
"Never mind, my dear," she said. "You couldn't help it."
"If I could have a good cry, I know I should feel better," was Bab's plaintive rejoinder.
"Richard, come here, please, and shake hands with Miss Thurston," commanded Aunt Jane in a slightly peremptory tone. Mr. Presby did so, but with apparent reluctance. He had had one experience with the brown-haired girl from Kingsbridge.
"My dears, we want you to come to Treasureholme with us. We cannot spare Olive, so you will have to come to us," smiled Mrs. Presby.
"We want you to come out for Christmas," interjected Mr. Presby rather grudgingly, and as if he were reciting a line from memory.
"Before Christmas," nodded Mrs. Presby. "You must come out this week. Sallie, you will come with them. We shall expect Robert also, though I suppose he will be running away to the city all the time."