help feeling interested in a girl who was evidently trying to make her
own way in the world.

"I am awfully sorry," Bab declared almost regretfully, but before she
finished speaking the drawing-room door opened and Ruth Stuart and
Harriet Hamlin entered the room together.

"How is your head, Bab, dear?" Ruth cried, before she espied their
caller.

Harriet Hamlin bowed coldly to the newspaper woman in the big arm chair.
The young woman had flushed, looked uncomfortable at sight of Harriet and
said almost humbly:

"I am sorry to interrupt you, Miss Hamlin, but my paper sent me to ask
you for the pictures of your guests. May I have them?"

"Most certainly not, Miss Moore," Harriet answered scornfully. "My
friends would not dream of allowing you to publish their pictures. And my
father would not consent to it either. Just because he is Assistant
Secretary of State I do not see why my visitors should be annoyed in this
way. I hope you don't mind, Ruth and Barbara." Harriet's voice changed
when she turned to address her cousin and friend. "Forgive my refusing
Miss Moore for you. But it is out of the question."

Ruth and Bab both silently agreed with Harriet. But Barbara could not
help feeling sorry for the other girl, who flushed painfully at Harriet's
tone and turned to go without another word.

Bab followed the girl out into the hall.

"I am so sorry not to give you our photographs," Barbara declared. "But,
of course, we cannot let you have them if Mr. Hamlin would object. And,
to tell you the honest truth, the 'Automobile Girls' would not like it
either." Barbara smiled in such a frank friendly way that no one could
have been vexed with her.

The older girl's eyes were full of tears, which she bravely winked
out of sight.

"Everyone has his picture published in the papers nowadays," she replied.
"I am sure I intended no discourtesy to you or to Miss Hamlin."

Then the girl's self-control gave way. She was very tired, and Bab's
sympathy unnerved her. "I hate Harriet Hamlin," she whispered,
passionately. "I am as well bred as she is. Because I am poor, and have
to support my mother, is no reason why she should treat me as though I
were dust under her feet. I shall have a chance to get even with her,
some day, just as certainly as I live. Then, won't I take my revenge!"

Barbara did not know what to reply, so she went on talking quietly. "I am
sure your asking us for our pictures was a very great compliment to