The Motor Maids by Palm and Pine

CHAPTER I.—TO THE SUNNY SOUTH.

The Atlantic Ocean and the breadth of Europe including half of Russia lay between Mr. Duncan Campbell and his daughter, Wilhelmina. But that did not prevent Mr. Campbell from thinking of numerous delightful surprises for Billie and her three friends in West Haven.

Sometimes it was a mere scrawl of a note hastily written at some small way station, saying: “Here’s a check for my Billie-girl. Treat your friends to ice-cream sodas and take ’em to the theater. Don’t forget your old Dad.”

Sometimes the surprise took the form of queer foreign-looking packages addressed to “the Misses Campbell, Butler, Brown and Price,” containing strange articles made by the peasants in the far-away land. He sent them each a Cossack costume with high red boots and red sashes. But some three weeks before the Easter holidays came the best surprise of all.

“I believe the Comet needs a change of air,” wrote Mr. Campbell. “A fine automobile must have as careful handling as a thoroughbred horse, or, for that matter, a thoroughbred young lady. What does my Billie-girl say to an Easter trip to Florida with Cousin Helen as guardian angel and Nan and Nell and Moll for company and the Comet for just his own sweet self?”

Mr. Campbell, who received long, intimate letters from his daughter once a week, felt that he knew the girls almost as well as she did, and he would call them by abbreviated, pet names in spite of Billie’s remonstrances.

“It so happens,” the letter continued, “that my old friend, Ignatius Donahue, who holds the small, unimportant, poorly-paid position of vice-president of an insignificant railroad, not knowing that I was digging trenches in Russia, has offered me the use of his private car, including kitchen stove, chef and other necessities. I have answered that I accept the invitation, not for self, but for daughter and friends and Comet; which latter must have free transportation on first-class fast-going freight, or he is no friend of mine. You will be hearing from Ignatius now pretty soon. Your old dad will be answerable for all other expenses, including hotel and-so-forth and if the and-so-forth is bigger than the hotel bill, he’ll never even chirp. Life is short and time is fleeting and young girls must go South in the winter when they have a chance.”

So, that is how the Motor Maids happened to be the four busiest young women in West Haven—what with those abominable High School examinations which always came about this time, and the getting together of a Palm Beach wardrobe.

And that is also how, one cold wet day at the end of March, they found themselves lolling in big comfortable chairs in Mr. Donahue’s private car while the train whizzed southward.

It had been a bustle and a rush at the last moment and they were glad to leave West Haven, which was a dreary, misty little place at that time of the year.

Miss Campbell leaned back in her wicker chair and regarded her four charges proudly. How neat they looked in their pretty traveling suits and new spring hats!

“I am so glad they are young girls and not young ladies,” she was thinking, when her meditations were interrupted by Sam, the colored chef and porter combined, whose arms were laden with packages.

“Why, what are you bringing us, Sam?” asked the little lady with some curiosity.

“With Mr. Donahue’s compliments, ma’am, and he hopes the ladies won’t git hungry and bored on the journey,” replied Sam, depositing the packages on a chair and drawing it up within Miss Campbell’s reach.

“Dear me, children,” she exclaimed excitedly, “look what this nice man has sent us. I feel like a girl again myself. A beautiful bunch of violets apiece——”

“And a big box of candy,” exclaimed Nancy Brown.

“And all the latest magazines,” added Billie Campbell, laughing.

“What a dear he is,” finished Elinor Butler, fastening on her violets with a long lavender pin; while Mary Price gave her own violets a passionate little squeeze.

“I hopes,” went on Sam, shifting from one foot to the other, “I hopes the ladies ain’t goin’ to eat so much candy they won’t have no appetite for they dinner. We g’wine have spring chicken to-night, an’ fresh green peas an’ new asparagrass, an’ strawbe’ies. I’d be mighty sorry if de ladies don’ leave no space for my dinner. Marse Donahue he don’ kill de fatted ca’f fo’ dis here ’casion.”

“Sam, we’ll close the candy box this minute,” said Miss Campbell. “And you needn’t bring us any tea this afternoon. You need feel no uneasiness about your spring chickens and your new peas. I shall write to Mr. Donahue myself as soon as I get to Palm Beach and thank him for his kindness.”

“He’s a very nice gemman, he is that,” observed Sam.

“Is he a young man, Sam?” asked Nancy, with young girl curiosity.

“He ain’t to say young or old, Missy. He don’ took his stan’ on the dividin’ line an’ thar he stan’.”

“How long has he been standing there, Sam?” put in Elinor.

“I knowed the gemman twenty years an’ he ain’t never stepped off yit.”

The private car rang with their cheerful laughter.

“He must be a wonderful man,” said Miss Campbell. “I wish he would teach me his secret.”

“His secret is, ma’am, he ain’t never got married and had no fambly troubles to age his countenance,” answered Sam.

“But,” cried Miss Campbell, “I’ve never been married either, and I’m white-haired and infirm.”

“You infirm, ma’am! You de youngest one in de lot,” answered the colored man, turning his frankly admiring gaze on the pretty little lady as he backed down the car, grinning, and disappeared in his own quarters.

“You see, Cousin,” said Billie, patting Miss Campbell’s cheek, “you must never try to make people believe again that you are old. You are a pretty young lady gone gray before her time.”

It was plain that Mr. Ignatius Donahue was very much pleased with the arrangements he had made with his old friend, Duncan Campbell. All along the journey he had fresh surprises for his five guests. At one place came a big basket of fruit; at another station a colored woman climbed on the train and presented each of them with a splendid magnolia in full bloom, that filled the car with its fragrance.

“With Mr. Donahue’s compliments, ma’am; an’ he says he hopes the ladies is enjoyin’ they selves,” she added as she gave Miss Campbell the largest blossom in the bunch.

“Dear, dear,” cried Miss Campbell. “One would think Mr. Donahue were taking this journey with us. He is so attentive. Is he anywhere around here?”

“No, ma’am,” interrupted Sam, with a warning look at the colored woman. “Marse Donahue, he jes’ give orders and specs ’em to be kerried out like he says.”

“I feel as if Mr. Donahue were a sort of spirit always hovering near us,” said Billie, when the two colored people had disappeared, “a kind of guardian angel. I wish papa had told us something about him.”

“A very substantial spirit,” observed Miss Campbell, “showering upon us all these gifts of fruits and flowers and candy.”

“What does Mr. Donahue look like, Sam,” Nancy asked the colored man later. “Is he tall and