Bab never closed her eyes again that night.  A little while later she saw the gray dawn change into rose color, and the rose to the blue of the day-time sky.  She heard several families of sparrows discussing their affairs while they made their morning toilets on the bare branches of the trees.

At last an idea came to Barbara.  She could pawn her jewelry and so raise the money they needed.  She had the old-fashioned corals her mother had given to her on her first trip to Newport.  There was also the beautiful ruby, which had been Mr. Presby’s gift to her from the rich stores of his buried treasure.  And the Princess Sophia had made Bab a present of a beautiful gold star when they were at Palm Beach.  Barbara’s other jewelry was marked with her initials.

Now Bab had very little knowledge of the real value of her jewelry, and she had an equally dim notion of what a pawn shop was.  But she did know that at pawn shops people were able to borrow money at a high rate of interest on their valuable possessions, and this seemed to be the only way out of their embarrassment.

But how was Barbara to locate a pawn shop in Washington?  And how was she to find her way there, without being found out either by Mr. Hamlin or any one of the girls?

Bab was still puzzling over these difficulties when she went down to breakfast.

“Miss Moore says she would like to see you, Barbara,” Harriet Hamlin explained, when Bab had forced down a cup of coffee and eaten a small piece of toast.  “Miss Moore is much better this morning, and a carriage is to take her home in a few hours.  I have just been up to inquire about her.  Father,” continued Harriet, turning to Mr. Hamlin, “Miss Moore wants me to thank you for your kindness in bringing her here, and to say she hopes to be able to repay you some day.  Marjorie Moore seems to think you discovered her out on the White House lawn, Barbara.  However did you do it?  I suppose you were out there walking with Peter Dillon.  But it is against the rules.”

“Does Miss Moore happen to know how she was hurt, Daughter?” Mr. Hamlin queried.  “Lieutenant Wilson declares the girl was struck a glancing blow on the head with the end of a loaded cane.  And the doctor seemed to have the same idea last night.”

“Miss Moore does not understand just what did happen to her,” Harriet replied.  “Or at least she won’t tell me.  She declares she was out in the grounds looking for some one, when she was knocked down from behind.  She never saw who struck her.  How perfectly ridiculous for her to be running about the White House park alone at night!  I wonder the guards permitted it.  What do you suppose she was doing?”

“Attending to her business, perhaps, Daughter,” Mr. Hamlin returned dryly.  “Miss Moore works exceedingly hard.  It cannot always be pleasant for a refined young woman to do the work she is sometimes required to do.  I hope you will be kind to her, Harriet, and help her when it is within your power.”