“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.”