rried. It makes no difference. But while I am in your
country I play I am free, like an American girl, and I do what I like
inside my own head."

"It's very wrong," Barbara argued hastily. "It is much better to trust to
your parents."

"Yes?" answered Wee Tu quietly. Bab was vexed that Peter Dillon's
careless Irish manners had also charmed this little Oriental maiden. But
Bab was wise enough to understand that Wee Tu's interest was only that of
a child who was grateful to the young man for his kindness.

Barbara rose to join her friends, who were at this moment saying good-bye
to their hostess.

"It is the Chinese custom," Lady Tu remarked graciously, "to make little
presents to our guests. Will not Mr. Hamlin's daughter and her four
friends receive these poor offerings?"

A servant handed the girls five beautiful, carved tortoise shell boxes,
containing exquisite sets of combs for their hair, the half dozen or more
that Chinese women wear.

"I felt ashamed of my wind-blown hair when Lady Tu presented us with
these combs," Grace exclaimed, just before the little party reached home.
They had paid a dozen more calls since their visit to the Chinese
Embassy. "I suppose Chinese women are shocked at the way American girls
wear their hair."

"Yes, but we can't take three hours to fix ours," laughed Mollie, running
up the steps of the Hamlin house. In the front hall Mollie spied an
immense box of roses. They were for Harriet. Harriet picked up the box
languidly and started upstairs. She had talked very little during the
afternoon, and had seemed unlike herself.

"Aren't you going to open your flowers, Harriet?" Mollie pleaded. "I am
crazy to see them."

"I'll open them if it pleases you, Mollie," Harriet returned gently. The
great box was crowded with long-stemmed American beauties and violets.

"Have some posies, girls?" Harriet said generously, holding out her arms
filled with flowers. For a long time afterwards the "Automobile Girls"
remembered how beautiful Harriet looked as she stood there, her face very
pale, her black hair and hat outlined against the dark oak woodwork with
the great bunch of American beauties in her arms.

"Of course we don't want your posies, Lady Harriet," Mollie answered
affectionately. "Here is the note to tell you who sent them to you." But
Harriet went on to her room without showing enough interest in her gift
to open the letter.

After dinner Harriet complained of a headache, and