Jane Presby rose, and, going over to her husband, kissed him tenderly on the forehead.
"You are a noble man, Richard."
"Has it taken you all these years to find that out?" retorted Mr. Presby testily.
"I have always known it," answered Mrs. Presby simply.
"What do you know about this Jack Howard's attentions to Olive?" he demanded sharply.
"They are childhood friends. Olive is still our baby, Richard. She has no thought of leaving us, I am sure. At least not in a long, long time."
Barbara, realizing that she was listening to a family conference, had suddenly shrunk back further into the corridor. She still could hear their voices. She retired further into the passage. Now their voices reached her ears in a confused murmur. The girl crouched down, waiting. The words of Mr. Presby had not made a very great impression on her, except that he had objected to one Nathan Bonner calling on his daughter. Who Nathan Bonner was Bab did not know.
Words, clear and distinct, spoken by Richard Presby, now reached Barbara plainly. He was speaking of another matter, one that was near to the heart of the "Automobile Girl" crouching there in the secret passage of the old mansion. Barbara's face blanched as she heard and understood what Mr. Presby was saying. She was powerless to shut her ears to the words. Mr. Presby's further remarks were brief. He rose and stamped from the room, followed a few seconds later by his wife.
Barbara crept forward to the panel, peered out cautiously to make sure that there was no one there, then, throwing wide the panel, stepped into the dining room, and, gathering her skirts about her, fled to her room on the next floor. She could hear the girls laughing and talking in Olive Presby's room.
Reaching her bedroom, Barbara Thurston threw herself on the bed, and sobbed as though her heart would break.