The Motor Maids by Palm and Pine — Reading Notes

Billie was about to ask him a question, when they drew up in front of the great hotel where their rooms had been engaged for days in advance.

A curious thing happened in connection with their chauffeur while the Motor Maids and Miss Campbell stood in a group at the hotel desk waiting for the busy clerk to give them his attention. The boy had gallantly helped them out of the car, carried in their suitcases and satchels and placed them in a pile, and Miss Campbell had extended her hand with the usual tip, when a muscular-looking man with smooth face and burnsides, touched the chauffeur respectfully on the shoulder.

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Edward," he said in a low voice, "your grandmother is waiting to see you."

"My grandmother waiting to see me?" repeated the chauffeur with amazement.

The English servant, for that was evidently what he was, gave him a long and searching look and stepped backward with a puzzled expression on his face.

"You've made a mistake, I reckon," said the boy, smiling gently.

"Beg pardon, sir," replied the man and moved quickly away.

Miss Campbell, who liked the looks of Edward, as he by a curious coincidence happened also to be named, and was taken with his quiet, respectful manners, engaged him on the spot to be their chauffeur and guide, since they were unfamiliar with the roads.

"I can run a motor-boat, too, ma'am," he said.

And that was another reason for taking him into their service; for they had planned to take many a sail on the placid waters of Lake Worth and to picnic along those verdant shores.

CHAPTER II.--MAKING NEW ACQUAINTANCES.

"Mr. Ignatius Donahue's compliments, and will the ladies take a ride in his motor-boat this afternoon? Mr. Donahue is sorry he cannot go too, but a business engagement prevents his being at Palm Beach."

This was the message brought to Miss Campbell the morning after their arrival at Palm Beach. The bearer of the message was Edward, the young chauffeur, who stood at a respectful distance while she read the note.

"But if Mr. Donahue isn't here, how did the note come?" asked Miss Campbell, much mystified.

"I can't say, ma'am," replied Edward, turning his face away so that they could not see the smile which twitched the corners of his mouth.

"Perhaps he telegraphed it," observed Billie.

"But it's written on note paper," replied Miss Campbell, rather irritably. "Would you like to go, girls?"

"Oh, yes," chorused the four voices.

"Very well, Edward, there seems no one to tell it to but you. We shall accept the invitation with pleasure. It would be absurd, I suppose, to telegraph this important communication to Mr. Donahue at Kamschatka or Boston or wherever he is, but he is very kind to offer us his boat and you may expect us on the pier this afternoon at four. Is that a good time for sailing?"

"Yes, ma'am," replied Edward, withdrawing down the corridor just as the door of an adjoining room opened and an angry voice cried:

"How dare you meddle with anything in this room? Leave it instantly."

Some one replied in a low musical voice,

"I am very sorry. I was only looking at a picture. I noticed a likeness----"

"You are here to clean up and not to notice. You are a servant and not a visitor. Another time and you will be reported. You may go."

At this point a girl was thrust out into the hall so roughly that she fell on her knees. It was only a chambermaid, and perhaps she was accustomed to being spoken to harshly, although she did not appear to be, for she covered her face with her hands and crouched against the wall.

"How could any one be so brutal?" exclaimed Billie indignantly as she ran to the trembling little figure and helped her to her feet. "Won't you come into our room until you calm down? It was cruel to have spoken to you so roughly."

The door opened again and an old woman stood on the threshold, leaning on a cane. There was something rather regal in her appearance, in spite of her plain black dress and grotesque-looking old garden hat with its flapping brim which half concealed her face.

"Don't interfere, young woman," said the formidable-looking personage. "Young American girls are far too impertinent."

Billie, who all her life had been the champion of the oppressed, was not frightened by the glare from the old woman's steely blue eyes. She made no reply, however. Her father had taught her never to engage in a battle of words if she could possibly avoid it, especially with an older person.