Barbara Thurston stood at the window of a large old-fashioned house, looking out into Connecticut Avenue. It was almost dark. An occasional light twinkled outside in the street, but the room in which Barbara was stationed was still shrouded in twilight.

Suddenly she heard a curtain at the farther end of the drawing-room rustle faintly.

Bab turned and saw a young man standing between the curtains, peering into the shadows with a pair of near-sighted eyes.

Barbara started. The stranger had entered the room through a small study that adjoined it. He seemed totally unaware of any other presence, for he was whistling softly: “Kathleen Mavourneen.”

“I beg your pardon,” Bab began impulsively, “but are you looking for some one?”

The newcomer flashed a charming smile at Barbara. He did not seem in the least surprised at her appearance.

“No,” he declared cheerfully, “I was not looking for any one or anything. The butler told me Mr. Hamlin and Harriet were both out. But, I say, don’t you think I am fortunate to have found you quite by accident! I came in here to loaf a few minutes.”

Barbara frowned slightly. The young man’s manner was surprisingly familiar, and she had never seen him before in her life.

“I hope I am not disturbing you,” he went on gayly. “I am an attache of the Russian legation, and a friend of Miss Hamlin’s. I came with a message for Mr. Hamlin. I was wondering if it were worth while to wait for him. But I can go away if I am troublesome.”

“Oh, no, you are not disturbing me in the least,” Barbara returned. “I expect Miss Hamlin and my friends soon. We arrived in Washington last night, and the other girls have gone out to a reception. I had a headache and stayed at home. Won’t you be seated while I ring for the butler to turn on the lights?”

The newcomer sat down, gravely watching Barbara.

“Would you like me to guess who you are?” he asked, after half a minute’s silence.

Bab laughed. “I am sure you will give me the first chance to tell you your name. I did not recognize you at first. But I believe Harriet told us about you last night. She described several of her Washington friends to us. You are Peter Dillon, aren’t you?”

“At your service,” declared the young attache, who looked almost boyish. “But now give me my opportunity. I do not know your name, but I have guessed this much. You are an ‘Automobile Girl!’ Permit me to bid you welcome to Washington.”

Barbara nodded her head decidedly. “Yes, I am Barbara Thurston, one of the ‘Automobile Girls.’ There are four of us. Harriet has probably explained to you. My sister, Mollie Thurston, Grace Carter, Ruth Stuart and I form the quartet. Mr. William Hamlin is Ruth’s uncle. So we are going to spend a few weeks here with Harriet and see the Capital. I have never been in Washington before.”

“Then you have a new world before you, Miss Thurston,” said the young man, his manner changing. “Washington is like no other city in the world, I think. I have been here for four years. Before that time I had lived in Dublin, in Paris, in St. Petersburg.”

“Then you are not an American!” exclaimed Bab, regarding the young man with interest.

“I am a man without a country, Miss Thurston.” Bab’s visitor laughed carelessly. “Or, perhaps, I had better say I am a man of several countries. My father was an Irishman and a soldier of fortune. My mother was a Russian. Therefore, I am a member of the Russian legation in Washington in spite of my half-Irish name. Have you ever been abroad?”

“Oh, no,” Bab returned, shaking her head. “For the past two years, since I have known Ruth Stuart, the ‘Automobile Girls’ have traveled about in this country a good deal. But we are only school girls still. We have never really made our debut in society, although we mean to forget this while we are in Washington, and to see as much of the world as we can. I do wish I knew something about politics. It would make our visit in Washington so much more interesting.”

“It is the most interesting game in the world,” declared Barbara’s companion, dropping for an instant his expression of indifference. His blue eyes flashed. Then he said quickly: “Perhaps you will let me teach you something of the political game at Washington. I am sure you will be quick to learn and to enjoy it.”

“Thank you,” Bab answered shyly. “But I am much too stupid ever to understand.”

“I don’t quite believe that. You know, you will, of course, hear a great deal about politics while you are the guests of the Assistant Secretary of State. Mr. Hamlin is one of the cleverest men in Washington. I am sure you will be instructing me in diplomacy by the end of a week. But good-bye; I must not keep you any longer. Will you tell Mr. Hamlin that I left the bundle of papers he desired on his study table? And please tell Harriet that I shall hope to be invited very often to see the ‘Automobile Girls.’”

The young man looked intently at Barbara, as though trying to read her very thoughts while she returned his scrutiny with steady eyes. Then with a courteous bow, he left the room.

When Barbara found herself alone she returned to the window.

“I do wish the girls would come,” she murmured to herself. “I am just dying to know what Mollie and Grace think of their first reception in Washington. Of course, Ruth has visited Harriet before, so the experience is not new to her. I am sorry I did not go with the girls, in spite of my headache. I wonder if some one is coming in here again! I seem to be giving a reception here myself.”

By this time the room was lighted, and Barbara saw a young woman of about twenty-five years of age walk into the drawing-room and drop into a big arm chair with a little tired sigh.

“You are Miss Thurston, aren’t you?” she asked briskly as Bab came forward to speak to her, wondering how on earth this newcomer knew her name and what could be the reason for this unexpected call.

“Yes,” Barbara returned in a puzzled tone, “I am Miss Thurston.”

“Oh, don’t be surprised at my knowing your name,” Bab’s latest caller went on. “It is my business to know everybody. I met Mr. Dillon on the corner. He told me Harriet Hamlin was not at home and that I had better not come here this afternoon. I did not believe him; still I am not sorry Miss Hamlin is out, I would ever so much rather see you. Harriet Hamlin is dreadfully proud, and she is not a bit sympathetic. Do you think so?”

Bab was lost in wonder. What on earth could this talkative young woman wish of her? Did her visitor believe Bab would confide her opinion of Harriet to a complete stranger? But the young woman did not wait for an answer.

“I want to see you about something awfully important,” she went on. “Please promise me you will do what I ask you before I tell you what it is.”

Bab laughed. “Don’t ask me that. Why you may be an anarchist, for all I know.”

The new girl shook her head, smiling. She looked less tired now. She was pretty and fragile, with fair hair and blue eyes. She was very pale and was rather shabbily and carelessly dressed.

“No; I am not an anarchist,” she said slowly. “I am a newspaper woman, which is almost as bad in some people’s eyes, I suppose, considering the way society people fight against giving me news of themselves and their doings. I came to ask you if you would give me the pictures of the ‘Automobile Girls’ for my paper? Oh, you need not look so surprised. We have all heard of the ‘Automobile Girls.’ Everybody in Washington of importance has heard of you. Couldn’t you let me write a sketch about you and your adventures, and put your photographs on the society page of our Sunday edition? It would be such a favor to me.”

Barbara looked distressed. She was beginning to like her visitor. Though Barbara had been associated mainly with wealthy people in the last two years of the “Automobile Girls’” adventures, she could not 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 us. Only important people and beauties and belles have their pictures in the society papers. It is just because the ‘Automobile Girls’ are too insignificant to be shown such an honor that we can’t consent. But please don’t be angry with us. I am sure Harriet did not intend to wound your feelings, and I hope I shall see you soon again.”

Marjorie Moore shook Barbara’s hand impulsively before she went out into the gathering darkness. “I like you,” she said warmly. “I wish we might be friends. Good-night.”

“Where are Mollie and Grace?” was Bab’s first question when she rejoined Ruth and Harriet.

“They would not come away from the reception,” Harriet returned, smiling. She was quite unconscious of having treated Marjorie Moore unkindly. “Ruth and I were worried about your headache, so we did not wish to leave you alone any longer. Strange to relate, Father offered to stay until Mollie and Grace were ready to come home. That is a great concession on his part, as he usually runs away from a reception at the first opportunity that offers itself. Mrs. Wilson, a friend of Father’s is helping him to look after Mollie and Grace this afternoon. Bab, did some boxes come for me this afternoon? I left orders at the shop to send them when Father would surely be out. Come on upstairs, children, and see my new finery.”

“Why, Harriet, are you getting more clothes?” Ruth exclaimed. “You are like ’Miss Flora McFlimsey, of Madison Square, who never had anything good enough to wear.’”

“I am no such thing, Ruth Stuart,” returned her cousin, a little peevishly. “You don’t understand. Does she, Barbara? Ruth has so much money she simply cannot realize what it means to try to make a good appearance on a small allowance, especially here in Washington where one goes out so much.”

“I was only joking, Harriet,” Ruth apologized as she and Barbara obediently followed their hostess upstairs. Bab, however, secretly wondered how she and Mollie were to manage in Washington, with their simple wardrobes, if their young hostess thought that clothes were the all-important thing in Washington society.

Harriet Hamlin was twenty years of age, but she seemed much older to Bab and Ruth. In the first place, Harriet was an entirely different type of girl. She had been mistress of her father’s house in Washington since she was sixteen. She had received her father’s guests and entertained his friends; and at eighteen she had made her debut into Washington society, and had taken her position as one of the women of the Cabinet. Harriet’s mother, Ruth’s aunt, had died a few months before Mr. Hamlin had received his appointment as Assistant Secretary of State. Since that time Harriet had borne the responsibilities of a grown woman, and being an only child she had to a certain extent done as she pleased, although she was secretly afraid of her cold, dignified father.

Mr. William Hamlin was one of the ablest men in Washington. He was a quiet, stern, reserved man, and although he was proud of his daughter, of her beauty and accomplishments, he was also very strict with her. He was a poor man, and it was hard work for Harriet to keep up the appearance necessary to her father’s position on his salary as Assistant Secretary of State. Harriet, however, never dared tell her father of this, and Mr. Hamlin never offered Harriet either sympathy or advice.

Barbara and Ruth could only watch with admiring eyes and little exclamations of delight the exquisite garments that Harriet now lifted out of three big, pasteboard boxes; a beautiful yellow crepe frock, a pale green satin evening gown and a gray broadcloth tailor-made suit. Harriet was tall and dark, with very black hair and large dark eyes. She was considered one of the beauties of the “younger set” in Washington society. Ruth had not seen her cousin for several years, until she received the invitation to bring the “Automobile Girls” to Washington.

Ruth Stuart and Barbara Thurston had changed very little since their last outing together at Palm Beach. Barbara was now nearly eighteen. At the close of the school year she was to be graduated from the Kingsbridge High School. And she hoped to be able to enter Vassar College the following fall. Yet the fact that she was in Washington early in December requires an explanation.

Two weeks before Bab had walked slowly home to Laurel Cottage at about three o’clock one November afternoon with a great pile of books under her arm.

On the front porch of their little cottage she found her mother and Mollie, greatly excited. A telegram had just come from Ruth Stuart. The “Automobile Girls” were invited to visit Ruth’s cousin in Washington, D.C. Ruth wished them to start at the end of the week.

Bab’s face flushed with pleasure at the news. She had not been with her beloved Ruth since the Easter before. Then the color died out of her face and her cheeks showed an unaccustomed pallor.

“I am so sorry, Mother,” Bab responded. “I would give anything in the world to see Ruth. But I simply can’t stop school just now, or I shall lose the scholarship. Mollie, you can accept Ruth’s invitation. You and Grace Carter can go to Washington together. You won’t mind going without me.”

“I shall not stir a single step without you,” blue-eyed Mollie returned firmly. “And Mother thinks you can go!”

Mollie and Mrs. Thurston, aided by Bab’s teachers, at last persuaded Barbara to take a few weeks’ holiday. Bab could study to make up for lost time during the Christmas holidays. For no one, except the young woman herself, doubted Barbara’s ability to win the desired Vassar scholarship.

And so it was arranged that Bab and Mollie should go with Ruth to Washington. Bab had grown taller and more slender in the past few months. Her brown braids are now always coiled about her graceful head. Her hair was parted in the middle, although a few little curls still escaped in the old, careless fashion.

Ruth Stuart, too, was looking sweeter and fresher than ever, and was the same ingenuous, unspoiled girl, whose sunny disposition no amount of wealth and fashion could change.

Readers of the first volume in the “Automobile Girls Series,” entitled “The Automobile Girls At Newport,” will recall how, nearly two years ago, Ruth Stuart, with her father and her aunt, Miss Sallie Stuart, came from their home in far away Chicago to spend the summer in Kingsbridge, New Jersey. The day that Barbara Thurston stopped a pair of runaway horses and saved Ruth Stuart from death she did not dream that she had turned the first page in the history of the “Automobile Girls.” A warm friendship sprang up between Ruth and Bab, and a little later Ruth Stuart invited Barbara, her younger sister, Mollie Thurston, and their friend, Grace Carter, to take a trip to Newport in her own, red automobile with Ruth herself as chauffeur and her aunt, Miss Sallie Stuart, as chaperon.

Exciting days at Newport followed, and the four girls brought to bay the “Boy Raffles,” the cracksman, who had puzzled the fashionable world! There were many thrilling adventures connected with the discovery of this “society thief,” and the “Automobile Girls” proved themselves capable of meeting whatever emergencies sprang up in their path.

In “The Automobile Girls in the Berkshires,” the second volume of the “Automobile Girls Series,” the scene is laid in a little log cabin on top of one of the highest peaks in the Berkshire hills, where the four girls and Miss Sallie spent a happy period of time “roughing it.” There it was that they discovered an Indian Princess and laid the “Ghost of Lost Man’s Trail.”

In the third volume of the series, “The Automobile Girls Along the Hudson,” the quartet of youthful travelers, accompanied by Miss Sallie Stuart, motored through the beautiful Sleepy Hollow country, spending several weeks at the home of Major Ted Eyck, an old friend of the Stuarts. There many diverting experiences fell to their lot, and before leaving the hospitable major’s home they were instrumental in saving it from destruction by forest fires.

The fourth volume of the series, “The Automobile Girls at Chicago,” relates the adventures of the four friends during the Christmas holidays, which Mollie, Grace and Bab spent with Ruth at Chicago and at “Treasureholme,” the country estate of the Presbys, who were cousins of the Stuart family. While there, principally through the cleverness of Barbara Thurston, the hiding place of a rich treasure buried by one of The ancestors of the Presbys was discovered in time to prevent the financial ruin of both Richard Presby and Robert Stuart, who had become deeply involved through speculation in wheat.

Before Mollie, Grace and Barbara returned to Kingsbridge, Mr. Stuart had promised that they should see Ruth again in March at Palm Beach, where he had planned a happy reunion for the “Automobile Girls.” There it was that they had, through a series of happenings, formed the acquaintance of a mysterious countess and become involved in the net of circumstances that was woven about her. How they continued to be her friend in spite of dark rumors afloat to the effect that she was an impostor and how she afterwards turned out to be a princess, is fully set forth in “The Automobile Girls at Palm Beach.”

“Really, Bab,” said Ruth, as the two girls went upstairs to their rooms to dress for dinner, “I have not had a chance to talk to you, alone, since we arrived in Washington. How is your mother?”

“As well as can be,” Bab answered. “How is darling Aunt Sallie? I am so sorry she did not come to Washington with you to chaperon us. There is no telling what mischief we may get into without her.”

Ruth laughed. “I have special instructions for the ‘Automobile Girls’ from Aunt Sallie. We are to be particularly careful to mind our ‘P’s’ and ‘Q’s’ on this visit, for Aunt Sallie wishes us to make a good impression in Washington.”

Barbara sighed. “I’ll try, Ruth,” she declared, “but you know what remarkable talent I have for getting into mischief.”

“Then you are to be specially par-tic-u-lar, Mistress Bab!” Ruth said teasingly. “For Aunt Sallie’s last words to me were: ’Tell Barbara she is to look before she leaps.’”

Barbara shook her brown head vigorously. “I am not the impetuous Bab of other automobile days. But, just the same, I wish Aunt Sallie had come along with you.”

“Oh, she may join us later,” Ruth returned. “To tell you the truth, Bab, Aunt Sallie is not fond of Harriet. She thinks Harriet is clever and pretty, but vain and spoiled. Here come Mollie and Grace. Home from that reception at last!”

The other two girls burst into Ruth’s room at this moment.

“Whom do you think we have seen?” called out Miss Mollie rapturously. “Oh, Washington is the greatest fun! I feel just like a girl in a book, we have been presented to so many noted people. I tell you, Barbara Thurston, we are country girls no longer! Now we have been traveling about the country so much with Ruth and Mr. Stuart, that we know people everywhere. Just guess whom we know in Washington?”

“I can guess,” Ruth rejoined, clapping her hands. “You have seen Mrs. Post and Hugh. Surely, you had not forgotten that they live in Washington. Hugh has finished college and has a position in the Forestry Department. I had a note from him this morning.”

“And didn’t tell! Oh, Ruth!” teased Grace Carter. “But, Bab, what about our Lenox friends, who spend their winters in Washington?”

“You mean Dorothy and Gwendolin Morton, the British Ambassador’s daughters, and funny little Franz Haller, the German secretary, I hope we shall see them. But do hurry, children. Please don’t keep the Assistant Secretary of State waiting for his dinner. That would surely be a bad beginning for our Washington visit. No, Mollie Thurston; don’t you put on your very best dress for dinner to-night. I have just gotten out your white muslin.”

“But Harriet wears such lovely clothes all the time, Bab,” Mollie pleaded, when she and Barbara were alone.

“Never mind, child. Harriet Hamlin is not Mollie Thurston,” Barbara concluded wisely.