into it," Mr. Hamlin declared authoritatively. "Mr. Dillon
is right. This affair must be kept an entire secret. It is incredible!
Above all things, the newspapers must not get hold of it. It would be a
nine days' wonder! Mr. Dillon, will you go to Miss Moore's paper? Say you
feel sure the President himself would not wish this story to be
published. Then you can find out where Miss Moore's mother lives, and see
that she is told. The girl is not seriously injured, but she must be seen
by a physician."

"But you are not going to take Marjorie Moore to our house, Father,"
Harriet protested. "She is so--" Harriet checked herself just in time.
She realized it would not be well to express her feeling toward the
injured girl before so large a group of listeners.

"I most certainly do intend to take Miss Moore to our house," interrupted
Mr. Hamlin sternly. "Her father was an old friend of mine whom changes in
politics made poor just before his death. His daughter is a brave girl. I
have a great respect for her."

In the excitement of helping their wounded visitor to bed, Barbara
forgot all about Mollie's wonderful gown, and the questions she intended
asking her. Bab and Ruth undressed Marjorie Moore, and stayed with her
until the doctor and a nurse arrived. Then Bab went quickly to her own
room and undressed by a dim light, so as not to disturb her sister.
Mollie's face was turned toward the wall and she seemed to be fast
asleep. There was no sign of the blue gown about to reawaken Bab's
curiosity. Barbara was too weary from the many impressions of the evening
and the fright that succeeded them, and hurriedly undressing she crept
quietly to bed and was soon fast asleep.

CHAPTER X

THE CONFESSION

It was almost dawn when Barbara began to dream that she heard low,
suppressed sobs. No; she must be wrong, she was not dreaming. The sounds
were too real. The sobs were close beside her, and Bab felt Mollie's
shoulders heaving in an effort to hold them back.

"Why, little sister," cried Bab in a frightened tone, putting out
her hand and taking hold of Mollie, "what is the matter with you!
Are you ill?"

"No," sobbed Mollie. "There is nothing the matter. Please go to sleep
again, Bab, dear. I did not mean to wake you up."

"You would not cry, Mollie, if there was nothing the matter. Tell me at
once what troubles you," pleaded Barbara, who was now wide awake. "If you
are not ill, then something pretty serious is worryi