"Shall I ask her?" Bab suggested, going in to the bedroom through the French window which opened onto their porch.
She came out, shaking her head. "Grace is not well enough to get up yet," she explained. "She says she may be able to join us for a few minutes when our guests arrive; but you are not to worry. Her headache is better."
"Shall we have tea out on our veranda, Barbara?" Miss Sallie asked. "I cannot tear myself away from this view. How exquisite the lake looks down between those mountains. And what is the name of that hill over there? Oh, yes, I know you girls have told me the name of it many times before, but as I cannot remember it, you will probably have to tell it to me repeatedly. Monument Mountain, did you say? Oh, I recall the story now. An Indian girl is supposed to have flung herself off of it on account of some love affair. Curious people the Indians," she continued. "Do you know, Bab, I am much interested in our little Indian girl? She is a very beautiful child, and her race is not usually beautiful. I don't understand the girl looking as she does. I shall go to the hospital with you to see her soon. Now, hurry along, child, and order the tea." Miss Sallie paused for an instant. "And tell the waiter to see that the service is good. English people are so particular about their tea!"
Barbara was back from her errand just in time to see a pony carriage drive up in front of the hotel. She went forward to meet their guests, sighing a little to herself. "I do wish Ruth and Mollie would come. I am sure I shan't know how to talk to these English girls by myself. I hardly spoke to them the night of our famous coon hunt."
Gwendolin and Dorothy Morton came half shyly forward. They were tall, willowy girls, with soft, brown hair and lovely complexions.
"I know why English girls are thought to look like roses," flashed through Bab's mind. "These girls are just like roses bending from long stems." Barbara came forward, speaking in her usual frank fashion. "I am so glad to see you," she declared. "Will you come to our little private balcony? If it is not too cold for you, Miss Stuart wishes to have tea out there."
Gwendolin and Dorothy Morton followed Bab in silence. As English girls do not talk so much as American girls on first acquaintance, Barbara felt compelled to keep up the conversation.