unt Sallie," Ruth spoke softly a few moments later, when she thought no
one was listening, "little Eunice is better. But Naki had to take her to
the hospital at Pittsfield. He could not find a place for her here.
Fortunately, Pittsfield is only a few miles from Lenox over a simply
perfect road, so we shan't mind going back and forth in the car. Naki and
Ceally are keeping the poor old Indian grandmother with them. Ceally says
she seems subdued and frightened."

Ruth turned rosy red. From the silence in the room she knew her guests
were hearing what she said. "I beg your pardon," she explained, turning
to Dorothy Morton, who was nearest her. "Please forgive my bad manners.
We are so interested in our new protegee that I forget that you know
nothing of her."

"But we should like to know, awfully!" Dorothy declared. "Who is this
Indian girl? I thought all the Indians had vanished from the Berkshires."

But Mr. Winthrop Latham and his nephew Reginald were at the door.

Behind them was a plump little German, with blond hair parted in the
middle, a tiny waxed mustache and near-sighted blue eyes. He was Franz
Heller, the Secretary at the German Embassy. He could usually be found
somewhere in the neighborhood of Gwendolin Morton.

Reginald Latham came up to Bab and sat down next her.

"Please," he whispered immediately, "do not speak of the little Indian
girl before my uncle."

"Why not?" queried Bab, in astonishment.

"I can't explain to you now!" Reginald faltered. His uncle's eyes were
fastened on him.

Miss Stuart announcing that tea was waiting on the balcony, the little
party adjourned to the veranda and stood talking and admiring the view.
It was a wonderful, clear October day, radiant with warm sunshine.

Mr. Winthrop Latham stood near Miss Stuart, assisting her to serve the
tea. The young people were talking in a group near them.

"I say, Ruth!" exclaimed Dorothy Morton. "Forgive my calling you Ruth so
early in our acquaintance, but if I call you Miss Stuart, your aunt may
think I am speaking to her. Do please tell us about the mysterious little
Indian girl, who is your protegee. Where did you find her?"

Reginald Latham, who was near Barbara, broke into the conversation.

"Tell Miss Stuart about our fall sports, Dorothy!" he urged.

"Tell me of them afterwards," said Dorothy. "I must hear about this
Indian child first."

"Well, the story of our little Indian girl is a long and rather odd one,"
Ruth as