spaper girl pointed with her pencil through a small open door, near
which she was standing. Her actions said as plainly as any words could
speak: "Follow me when you have a chance. There is something I must tell
you!" The next instant Marjorie Moore vanished through this door and was
lost to sight.
A few minutes later Bab managed to slip over to that side of the room.
She intended merely to peep out the open door to see whether Miss Moore
were waiting for her in the hall. Bab carefully watched her opportunity.
Mr. Hamlin and the girls were not looking. Now was her chance. She was
just at the door, when some one intercepted her.
"Ah! Good evening, Miss Thurston," said a suave voice.
Barbara turned, blushing again to confront the Chinese Minister looking
more magnificent than ever in his Imperial robes of state.
The young girl paused and greeted the official. Still the Chinese
Minister regarded her gravely with his inscrutable Oriental eyes that
seemed to look her through and through. He seemed always about to ask her
some question.
Of course, Barbara was obliged to give up her effort to follow Marjorie
Moore, though she was still devoured with curiosity to know what the girl
had wished to say to her. The next ten minutes, wherever Bab went, she
felt the Chinese Minister's gaze follow her.
It was not until Barbara Thurston discovered that the Oriental gentleman
had himself withdrawn from the reception room that she mustered up a
sufficient courage to try her venture the second time.
"Miss Moore, of course, is not expecting me now," Barbara thought. "But
as I have a chance, I will see what has become of her."
Bab peeped cautiously out through the still open door. She saw only an
empty corridor with a servant standing idly in the hall. Should she go
forward? No; Barbara did not, of course, dare to wander through the White
House halls alone. She was too likely to find herself in some place to
which visitors were not admitted.
The servant who waited in the hall saw Barbara hesitate, then turn back.
He leaned over and whispered mysteriously: "You are to come to the door
at the west side, which opens on the lawn. The young woman left a message
that she would wait for you there."
"But I don't know the west side," Bab faltered hesitatingly, feeling that
she ought to turn back, yet anxious to go on.
"The young woman said it was most important for her to see you; I can
show you the way to the west door," the
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