CHAPTER XI
A SERIOUS MIX-UP
"You are Betty, aren't you?" the girlish voice insisted, and thistime Betty identified it as belonging to a girl a year or two olderthan herself who stood smiling uncertainly at her.
"Yes, of course I'm Betty," said Betty Gordon smiling.
The face of her questioner cleared.
"All right, girls," she called, beckoning to two others who stood alittle way off. "She's Betty. I was sure I hadn't make a mistake."
Betty found herself surrounded by three laughing faces, beaming withgood-will and cordiality.
"We must introduce ourselves," said the girl who had first spoken toher. "This is Louise," pointing to a gray-eyed miss apparently aboutBetty's age. "This is Esther." A girl with long yellow braids andpretty even white teeth bobbed a shy acknowledgment. "And of courseI'm Roberta, Bobby for short."
"And if we don't hurry, we'll be late for dinner," suggested thegirl who had been called Louise. "You know Carter isn't as patientas he once was; he hates to have to wait."
Bobby thrust her arm through Betty's protectingly.
"Come on, Betty," she said comfortably. "Never mind about your trunkcheck. Carter will drive down after it early in the morning."
Betty's bewildered mind was vaguely appreciative of the wide sweepof open plaza which lay before them as they came out on the otherside of the station, but before she could say a word she was gentlybundled into a handsome automobile, a girl on either side of her andone opposite, and the grim-faced, silver-haired old chauffeur,evidently slightly intolerant of the laughter and high spirits of hisyoung passengers, had started to thread his way through the lane oftaxicabs and private cars.
Betty was intensely puzzled, to put it mildly. Her uncle hadmentioned no girls in his letters to her, and even supposing that shehad missed some letters, it was hardly possible that he should nothave let fall an explanatory word or two from time to time.
"I thought Uncle Dick would come down to meet me," she said, voicingher surprise at last.
"Oh, poor dear, his heart is almost broken to think he has to staycooped up in the house," answered Bobby, who seemed to be the generalspokesman. "But how stupid of us--of course you don't know that hehurt his foot!"
"Is he hurt?" Betty half rose from her seat in alarm. "Is he badlyinjured? When did it happen?"
Bobby pulled the excited girl down beside her.
"You see it happened only yesterday," explained Louise, finding hervoice with a rush. "You'd better believe we were frightened when theybrought him to the house in the ambulance. His foot has some littlebones broken in it, the doctor says, but he'll be all right in amonth or so. He has to hobble around on crutches till the bones knit."
"But it isn't serious, so don't look like that," urged Bobby. "Why,Betty, your lips are positively white. We're so thankful it was hisfoot and not his head--that would have been something to worry about."
"How--how did it happen?" gasped Betty, anxious and worried in spiteof these assurances. "Was he in an accident?"
"He was the whole accident," announced Bobby cheerfully. "You seehe's completely wrapped up in these new buildings they're putting upon the outskirts. We'll take you out to see 'em while you're here andperhaps you'll understand the construction, which is more than I do.Anyway, the whole firm and every workman is absorbed in theexperiment, and they're burnt as red as the bricks from workingoutdoors all day."
"Uncle Dick does love to be outdoors," murmured Betty.
"He sure does," agreed Bobby. "Well, nothing would do yesterday butthat he must climb up on the roof of one they've just started andtake a peek at the chimney. I guess it needed looking after, for thewhole thing tumbled over on him, coming down full-weight on his rightfoot. Forcet, the foreman, had an awful time getting him down fromthe roof, and instead of telephoning for the car, some nervous personsent for the ambulance and scared us all into fits."
Betty blinked again. No mention of building houses had been made inUncle Dick's letters to her.
"Did he get my telegram?" she asked, leaning forward to look at amonument they were passing.
"A little before noon," replied Bobby. "Louise and Esther and I hadsuch a violent argument as to which of us should come to meet youthat we didn't even dare draw lots; it seemed safer for us all tocome along."
Esther, who sat opposite Betty, had noticed her interest in theWashington Monument.
"We're going to take you sightseeing to-morrow," she promised."Aren't we, Bobby? And I don't see why we don't go home by way ofFort Myer. It doesn't take any longer, and dinner isn't till seven,you know."
"All right." Bobby leaned forward and spoke to the chauffeur. "Takeus round by Fort Myer, please, Carter," she directed.
The car turned sharply, and in a few minutes they were rattling overan old bridge.
"We live out in the country, Betty, I warn you," said the volubleBobby. "But it has its compensations. You'll like it."
Betty, a stranger to Washington, decided that the Willard must be acountry hotel. It would be like Uncle Dick, she knew, to shun theheart of the city and establish himself somewhere where he could seegreen fields the first thing every morning.
"What is Fort Myer?" she asked with lively curiosity, as the carbegan to climb a steep grade. "Is that where they had training campsduring the war?"
"Right," said Bobby. "It's an army post, you know. See, here aresome of the officers' houses. I only hope we live here when Louiseand I are eighteen--they give the most heavenly dances and parties."
Betty looked with interest at the neat houses they were passing. Thenames of the officers were conspicuously tacked on the doorsteps, andthere was a general air of orderliness and military spic and spannessabout the very gravel roads. Occasionally a dust-colored car shotpast them filled with men in uniform.
"Do you ride?" asked Betty suddenly. "Uncle Dick has always wantedme to learn, but I've never had a good chance."
"Well, you can begin to-morrow morning," Bobby informed her. "We'vethree ponies that are fine under the saddle. Betty, I do wish you'dmake up your mind to live in Washington this winter. There's noreason in the world why you shouldn't, and we were talking it overlast night, making plans for you."
"Why! that's entirely as Uncle Dick says," returned Betty,surprised. "I haven't any say in the matter."
Bobby shot a triumphant glance toward the other girls.
"He said he hadn't much right to dictate, but I told him I knewbetter," she said with satisfaction. "He wants you as much as we do,and that's considerable, you know."
Again a wave of doubt swept over Betty. Uncle Dick had said he hadnot much right to dictate! When he was her only living relative!
"Uncle hasn't a fever or anything, has he?" she asked apprehensively."I mean the injury to his foot hasn't, it didn't--" she floundered.
"Oh, that old hurt to his head never amounted to anything," declaredBobby with convincing carelessness. "No, indeed, he's perfectly wellexcept for the crutches, and the doctor says keeping him indoors fora few days will give him a much-needed rest."
Betty recalled the accident in which her uncle had been stunned whenhe had slipped down a bank into an excavation made along a road onwhich they had been driving. Bobby evidently referred to that oldinjury.
"Now you can begin to watch for the house," said the silent Esther,as Carter swung the car around another curve in the beautiful road."I don't see why I couldn't have been named Virginia!"
"Esther has a personal grievance because she's the only one of usborn in the South, and she had to be named for an aunt like the restof us," laughed Bobby. "Every tenth girl you meet down here seems tobe named Virginia."
"But was she born in Virginia?" asked Betty. "Where did you livethen?"
Bobby stared. Then she laughed.
"Oh, I see," she said. "We lived at Fairfields. Of course you knowthat. But, like so many friends, you have always thought of us asliving in Washington. We're in Virginia, Betty, didn't you know that?"
"No." Betty's puzzlement was plainly written on her face.
"When we crossed the bridge, we left the District of Columbia,"explained Bobby. "Of course we're very close to the line, but stillwe are not in Washington."
"There's the house!" exclaimed Louise. "I wonder if mother got backfrom shopping. I don't see her on the porch."
Betty saw a beautiful white house, dazzlingly white against abackground of dark trees, with a broad lawn in front circled by awide white driveway. A terraced garden at the side with a red brickwalk was arranged with wicker chairs and tables and a couple ofswings protected with gay striped awnings. It was a typical Southernmansion in perfect order, and Betty reveled in its architecturalperfections even while she told herself that it did not look in theslightest like a hotel. What was it Bobby had called her home?"Fairfields"--that was it; and she, Betty, wanted to go to theWillard. Had they made a mistake and brought her to the wrong place?
There was no time to ask for explanations, however. The girls swepther out of the car and up the low steps through the beautifuldoorway. A well-trained man servant closed the door noiselessly, andthe three bore Betty across the wide hall into a room lined withbooks and boasting three or four built-in window seats, in one ofwhich a gentleman was reading.
"We found her! Here she is!" shouted the irrepressible Bobby. "Don'ttell us we can't pick a girl named Betty out of a crowd!"
The gentleman closed his book, and, steadying himself with a canelying near by, rose slowly. There was no recognition in the gaze hefastened on Betty, and she for her part hung back, staring wildly.
"You're not Uncle Dick!" she gasped accusingly.
Betty Gordon in Washington; Or, Strange Adventures in a Great City Page 11
