The Motor Girls on Waters Blue | Page 7

just showing the girls the new hairpins. We are going to the station directly."
Cora's voice floated out of the low French windows, which opened from the library to the porch, and they were swung wide, for the fall tang in the air had vanished with the rising of the orb of day, and it was now warm and balmy.
"It will be even warmer than this when we go to the West Indies," murmured Bess. "Oh, Cora, I do wish you were going!"
"So do I, dear! But I don't see how I can."
"Hark!" said Belle, softly.
A murmur of voices came from the porch through the low, opened windows.
"It's one of those Armenian lace peddlers,"' said Cora, stooping down to look as she finished making the twist at the back of her head. "There's been a perfect swarm of them around lately. Mother is talking to her, though she seldom cares for lace--such as they sell."
"There is some beautiful lace work to be had on some of the West Indian islands, so mamma says," spoke Belle. "I am just crazy to get there!"
"Are you going to spend all your time on Porto Rico?" asked Cora, as she finished her hair.
"Well, most of it, though we shall probably cruise about some," spoke Bess, and as she paused the murmuring of the voices of Mrs. Kimball and the lace peddler could be heard.
"She doesn't talk like an Armenian," ventured Belle. "She has a Spanish accent."
"Yes, so she has," agreed Cora. "Oh, girls! You don't know how I envy you that trip. But duty first, you know," and she sighed.
"We expect to have a perfectly gorgeous time," went on Belle, as she settled her trim jacket more snugly over her slim hips. "One trip papa has promised us is to Sea Horse Island, not far from Porto Rico. He is going there after orchids--you know he is an enthusiastic amateur collector--and he says some very rare ones grow on Sea Horse. I wish I could send you some, Cora."
"It's awfully sweet of you, but--"
The girls were interrupted by the darkening of one of the low windows, by a tall, slim shadow. In surprise they looked up to see staring at them a girl whose swarthy, olive-tinted face proclaimed her for a foreigner from some sunny clime.
In her hand she field a bundle of lace, which she had evidently taken from her valise to show to Mrs. Kimball. Cora's mother had arisen from a porch chair, in some wonder, to follow the girl's movements.
"Pardon Senoritas," began the lace seller, in soft accents, "but did I hear one of you ladies mention Sea Horse Island--in ze West Indies? I am not sure--I--"
She paused, painfully self-conscious.
"I spoke of it," said Belle, gently. "We are going there on a winter cruise, and--"
"Pardon me--but to Sea Horse Island?" and the girl's trembling voice seemed very eager.
"We are going there--among other places," put in Bess, and her voice grew rather colder than her sister's, for the manner of the lace seller was passing strange.
"--Oh, to Sea Horse Island--in ze West Indies--Oh, if I could but go zere--my father--he is--he is, oh, Senoritas, I crave your pardon, but---but--"
Her voice trailed off in a whisper, and swaying, she fell at the feet of Cora, who sprang forward, but too late, to catch the slim, inanimate burden. The little lace peddler lay in a crumpled up heap on the floor.

CHAPTER IV
JACK ARRIVES
"Oh, Cora!"
"The poor girl!"
Belle and Bess, with clasped hands, bent over the prostrate form of the girl, whose plain, black dress showed the dust and travel stains of the highways about Chelton. From the verandah Mrs. Kimball stepped in, through the long window.
"Get some water, Cora," she directed in a calm and self-possessed voice. "Also the aromatic ammonia on my dressing table. It is merely a faint. Poor girl! She seemed very weak while she was talking to me. I was just going to ask her to sit down, and let me have a cup of tea brought to her, when she suddenly turned away from me and came in where you girls were."
"She heard us talking," ventured Bess, a little awed by the strange happening.
"And she asked the oddest question--about Sea Horse Island--where papa is going--and she spoke of her father--I wonder what she meant?" asked Belle.
"Time enough to find out after we've revived her," suggested Cora, who, like her mother, was not at all alarmed by a mere fainting fit.
Belle, inspired by her chum's coolness, had stooped over and was raising the girl's head.
"Don't do that!" exclaimed Cora. "The trouble is all the blood has gone from her head now. Let it remain low and the circulation will become normal, after the has had a little stimulant. I'll get the ammonia," and she hurried off, stopping long enough to ring for