The Auto Girls At Washington | Page 8

a man to find you if you will hide behind
curtains?" This time Bab recognized Peter Dillon, her acquaintance of
the afternoon before.
Mrs. Wilson, whose manner suggested a charming frankness and
innocence, took Peter by the arm. "Which of the three Graces do you
mean to devote yourself to this afternoon, Peter? You shall not flatter
us all at once."
"I flatter?" protested Peter, in aggrieved tones. "Why truthfulness is my
strong point."
Marjorie Moore gave a jarring laugh. "Is it, Mr. Dillon?" she returned,
not too politely. "Please count me out of Mr. Dillon's flatteries. He does
not include a woman who works in them." Marjorie Moore hurried
away.
"Whew-w!" ejaculated Peter. "Miss Moore does not love me, does she?

I came up only to say a few words. Miss Hamlin is keeping me busy
this afternoon. Come and have some coffee, Miss Thurston. I am sure
you look tired."
"I would rather not," Barbara protested. "I am going to run away
upstairs for a minute, if you will excuse me."
Before Barbara could make her escape from the drawing-room she saw
that Peter Dillon and Mrs. Wilson had both lost their frivolous manner
and were deep in earnest conversation.

CHAPTER III
MR. TU FANG WU
Bab knew that at the rear of this floor of Mr. Hamlin's house there was
a small room that was seldom used. She hoped to find refuge in it for a
few minutes, and then to return to her friends.
The room was empty. Bab sank down into a great arm chair and closed
her eyes.
A few moments later she opened them though she heard no sound. A
fat little Chinese gentleman stood regarding her with an expression of
amusement on his face.
Barbara jumped hastily to her feet. Where was she? She felt frightened.
Although the man before her was yellow and foreign, and wore strange
Chinese clothes, he was evidently a person of importance. Had Barbara
awakened at the Court of Pekin? Her companion wore a loose, black
satin coat, heavily embroidered in flowers and dragons and a round,
close fitting silk cap with a button on top of it.
"I beg your pardon," Bab exclaimed in confusion. "Whom did you wish
to see? There is no one in here."
The Chinese gentleman made Bab a stately bow. "No one," he

protested. "This is the first time, since my residence in America, that I
have heard an American girl speak of herself as no one. Miss United
States is always some one in her own country. But may I therefore
present myself to little 'Miss No One'? I am Dr. Tu Fang Wu, His
Imperial Chinese Majesty's Envoy Extraordinary and Minister
Plenipotentiary to the United States."
"I am very proud to meet you, Mr. Minister," Barbara returned,
wondering if "Mr. Minister" was the proper way to address a foreign
ambassador. She thought Mr. Hamlin had told her so, only the night
before.
Bab did not know in the least what she should do or say to such a
distinguished Oriental. She might make a mistake at any minute. For
Bab had been learning, every hour since her arrival in Washington, that
in no place is social etiquette more important than in the Capital City.
"May I find Mr. Hamlin for you?" Bab suggested, hoping to make her
escape.
The Chinese Minister shook his head slowly. "Mr. Hamlin is engaged
with his other guests."
"Then won't you be seated?" Bab asked in desperation. Really she and
this strange yellow gentleman could not stand staring at each other the
whole afternoon. It made Bab feel creepy to have a Chinaman regard
her so steadfastly and without the slightest change of expression, even
if he were a foreign minister.
Bab felt this meeting to be one of the strangest experiences of her
whole life. She had never seen a Chinaman before, except on the street
carrying a basket of laundry. But here she was forced into a tête-à-tête
with one in the highest social position.
"Have you any daughters?" Barbara asked in her effort to break the
awful silence.
Mr. Tu Fang Wu again bowed gravely. "I have one daughter and one

small son. My daughter is not here with me this afternoon. Chinese
girls do not go to entertainments where there are young men. My
daughter has been brought up according to the customs of our country.
But she has been in Washington for several years. I fear she, too, would
like to be emancipated, like the American girl. It is not possible,
although she enjoys many privileges she will not have when she returns
to China. My daughter is betrothed to a nobleman in her own country.
Perhaps you would like to meet my daughter, Wee Tu? She is fifteen
years old.