“I wanted to warn you sooner, Gladys; believe me, I did,” answered Barbara; “but I knew you wouldn’t listen to me, and would not believe a word I said.”
“I know, Barbara,” said Gladys, humbly. “I have been a horrid stuck-up goose. I know, now, if you hadn’t seen him steal the necklace at Mrs. Erwin’s, we might never have found out who the thief was. Then I don’t know what dreadful thing might have happened to me, if I had gone on seeing him and never understood his true nature. Do you think he could have stolen my bracelet?”
“I know he did,” Bab answered.
“The horrid, hateful thing!” cried Gladys, with a fresh burst of tears. “Barbara, I want to ask you a favor. Will you beg Ruth to let me go back to Kingsbridge in the automobile with you? I suppose I ask you because I have been more hateful to you than to anyone else. I know if you will forgive me the other girls will. Ruth will do anything you ask her.”
“But I can’t ask Ruth such a favor as that, Gladys,” argued Barbara. “There wouldn’t be room in the car, for one thing.”
“Oh, I could sit on the little seat and I would be as nice and give as little trouble as I possibly could, if you will only ask her. I somehow feel that if you girls will stick by me, now, other people will not think so badly of me. They will know I have been a goose, and have been dreadfully deceived by Harry Townsend, but they’ll understand that I never meant any wrong, and am not really bad. You see, Bab, you and Mollie are my cousins. Everyone is sure to find out you helped to expose the awful villain; so, if I am seen with you now, it will show that you take my part, and that you knew I had only been deceived.”
“Don’t you think it is a good deal to ask of me, Gladys?” said Barbara, speaking very slowly. She was thinking of every snub, every cruel thrust Gladys had given her since they were children.
Gladys did not answer at first. Then she shook her head, and rose to go. “Yes, Barbara,” she said; “I know I don’t deserve a bit of kindness at your hands. I have been perfectly hateful to you, always. Good-bye.”
“Oh, stay, Gladys,” begged Bab, penitent in an instant. “I didn’t mean that. Of course we will all stand by you. Indeed, I shall ask Ruth if you may go back in the automobile with us, and I am sure, if Miss Stuart thinks there is room enough, Ruth will be delighted to have you. She is always the dearest, most generous girl in the world,” said Bab, her face glowing with the enthusiasm she always felt in speaking of Ruth.
“Now,” she continued, “do come on upstairs and take off your hat. You must stay to lunch with us. Oh, no; you needn’t be afraid of Miss Stuart. She won’t be unkind to you; she’s a perfect dear! She’ll just be awfully sorry for you, when you tell her how badly you feel. Come on, Gladys.” Bab took hold of her hand.