Read Dorothy Dale at Glenwood School Page 7


  CHAPTER VII

  TAVIA'S DANGER

  "Whatever can that girl mean?" exclaimed Dorothy, when Alice and Violahad passed down the walk.

  "Mean! The meanest thing I ever met! Did you see her refuse my hand?"asked Tavia. "Well, it's a good thing to be able to size up a girllike that at the first meeting; it saves complications. But who caresfor green violets? What I want to know is, are you really going away,Doro?" and the look on Tavia's face could not be mistaken. She wouldbe dreadfully grieved if compelled to part with Dorothy's companionship.

  "Aunt Winnie thinks I should go, and father has decided it is best. Ofcourse I shall hate to leave you, Tavia," and Dorothy wound her armaffectionately around her friend. "In fact I shall never, never, findany girl to take your place in my heart," and something very like tearscame into Dorothy's voice.

  "I knew it! I just knew you would go away when you got that hatefulIndian money. And what in the world will I ever do in Dalton? Now Ihave learned how much pleasure I could have, visiting your friends andriding in automobiles, and then, just when I get to realizing what agood time we could have, you up and leave me! I might have know betterthan to go out of my own limits!" and here Tavia actually burst intotears, a most remarkable thing for her to do.

  "I am so sorry," said Dorothy with a sigh, putting her arm around theweeping girl.

  "There! What a goose I am! Of course I would not have donedifferently if I could do it all over again. The good times we havehad are the most precious spots in all my life. And, Doro dear, youdid not drag me out of my shell--I was always running after you forthat matter, so you need not think the loneliness will be any fault ofyours--except that you are such a dreadfully dear girl that no onecould help loving you. You really should try to curb that fault."

  Tavia had dried her tears. She was that sort of girl who is both tooproud and too brave to show "the white feather" as she often expressedthe failing of giving away to emotion that might distress others.

  "I do wish you could go along," said Dorothy.

  "Well, I don't believe I would really like to go, Doro," Taviasurprised her by saying. "I should probably get into all kinds ofscrapes with that Green Violet, and the scrapes would likely make itunpleasant for you. Besides I have been thinking I ought to go towork. I am old enough to do something--fifteen next month youknow--and I would just like to get right out into the world--go withthe tide."

  "Tavia!" exclaimed Dorothy in alarm, for these rash sentiments had oflate been strangely common with Tavia. "You do not know what you aretalking about. Go with the tide--"

  "Yes, I just mean take my chances with other girls. I had a letterfrom a girl in Rochester the other day. She had got work and she is noolder than I am."

  "At what?" asked Dorothy.

  "On the stage. She is going to take part in some chorus work--"

  "Tavia, dear!" cried Dorothy. "You must not get letters from suchgirls. On the stage! Why, that is the most dangerous work any girlcould possibly get into."

  "Now, Doro, I have not got the place, worse luck. And you must nottake on so just because I happened to mention the matter. But you mustrealize there is a vast difference between poor girls like me, andthose of your station in life!"

  What had come over Tavia lately? Why did she so dwell upon thedifference between Dorothy's means and her own? Was it a natural prideor a peculiar unrest--that unrest, perhaps, that so often leads others,who are older, stronger and wiser than Tavia Travers, into paths notthe most elevating? And then they may urge the excuse that the worldhad been hard on them; that they could not find their place in life,when in reality they scorn to take the place offered them, and insteadof trying for a better or higher mark they deliberately refuse theprospects held out, and turn backward--then they blame the world!

  This condition is called "Social Unrest," and Tavia Travers, thoughyoung and inexperienced, was having a taste of its bitter moral poison.

  "Promise me you will never write another letter to that girl," beggedDorothy, solemnly. "I know your father would not permit it Tavia, andI know such influence is dangerous."

  "Why the idea! You should have read her letter, Doro. She says thekillingest things--But mercy, I must go. I have to go to the Greenbefore tea," and, with a reassuring kiss, Tavia darted off.

  Dorothy looked after her friend as she skipped down the path, and asense of dread, of strange misgivings, took possession of her. What ifTavia should actually run away as she had often threatened in jest!Then Dorothy remembered how well Tavia danced, how she had practicedthe "stage fall" after seeing the play in Rochester, and how littleJohnnie Travers had barely escaped the falling ceiling that came downwith Tavia's attempt at tragedy. Then, too, Dorothy thought of the dayTavia had painted her cheeks with mullin leaves and how Dorothy thenremarked in alarm: "Tavia, you look like an actress!"

  How strangely bright Tavia's eyes seemed that day! How wonderfullypretty her short bronze locks fell against her unnaturally red cheeks!All this now flashed through Dorothy's dazed brain.

  How could she leave Tavia? And yet she would so soon have to goaway--to that far-off school--

  And that strange girl who had come with Alice. What could she havemeant by those horrid insinuations about Dorothy so "suddenly making upher mind" to go to boarding school; and that it would be "too bad toleave Tavia alone in Dalton just then!" as if everyone did not know bythis time just what had happened on the auto ride, and that Ned hadactually been offered the reward for the capture of Anderson. Not onlythis but her two cousins, Ned and Nat, had received public praise forbrave conduct, and the two girls, whose names were not mentioned (MajorDale had asked the reporter to omit them if possible from the report),were also spoken of as having taken part in the capture, inasmuch asthey allowed Anderson to remain quietly in the car until the youngowners of the machine arrived upon the scene.

  Dorothy sat there thinking it all over. It was almost dusk and on thelittle vine-clad porch the shadows of the honey-suckle shifted idlyfrom Dorothy's chair to the block of sunshine that was trying sobravely to keep the lonely girl company--every other ray of sunlighthad vanished, but that gleam seemed to stay with Dorothy. She did notfail to observe this, as she always noticed every kindness shown her,and she considered the "ray of light" as being very significant in thepresent rather gloomy situation.

  "But I must not mope," Dorothy told herself presently. "I simply musttalk the whole thing over with Aunt Winnie."

  How much better for Tavia it would have been had she too determined to"talk the whole thing over" with someone of experience?

  Dorothy found her aunt busy writing the boarding school letters, andwhen that task had been finished Mrs. White was entirely at the girl'sservice. Dorothy tried to unfold to her the situation, without puttingunnecessary blame on Tavia, who was such a jolly girl and so absolutelyfree from dread--never had been known to be afraid of anything, Dorothydeclared, and of course there was therefore, all the more reason to beworried about her risks. To Tavia, a risk was synonymous with sport.

  "I had no idea she would be interested in that sort of thing," saidMrs. White, referring to the matter of going on the stage, "and,perhaps, Dorothy--"

  "But I am not at all sure that she is interested in it, auntie,"Dorothy interrupted. "I am only afraid she may get more letters fromthat girl-- And besides, I will be so lonely without her, and I knowshe will miss me."

  "Well, there, little girl," and the aunt kissed Dorothy's cheek, "youtake things too seriously. We will see what can be done. I, too, likeTavia, She is an impulsive girl, but as good as gold, and I will alwaysbe interested in her welfare."

  "Thank you, auntie dear. You are so kind and so generous. It wouldseem enough to be bothered with me, but to give you further troublewith my friends--"

  "Nonsense, my dear, it is no trouble whatever. I heartily enjoy havingyour confidences, and you may rest assured very little harm will cometo the girl who chooses a wise woman for her adviser. And I
do hope,Dorothy, I am wise in girls' ways if not in points of law, as your dearfather always contends."

  "And auntie," went on Dorothy, rather timidly, "I want to tell yousomething else, Alice MacAllister brought a girl to visit me thisafternoon, and she said such strange things about yesterday'saccidents. She was positively disagreeable."

  "You are too sensitive, child. Of course people will say strangethings every time they get a chance--some people. But you must notbother your pretty head about such gossip. When you do what is right,good people will always think well of you and, after all, their opinionis all that we really care for, isn't it?"

  "But why should she be so rude? She is a perfect stranger to me?"

  "Some girls think it smart to be rude, Dorothy. What did she say thattroubled you so?"

  "That's precisely it, auntie, no one could repeat her remarks. Theywere merely insinuations and depended upon the entire conversation fortheir meaning."

  "Insinuations? Perhaps that you had been arrested for stealingmelons?" and the aunt laughed at the idea. "Well, my dear, I believeit will be well for you to be away from all this country gossip."

  "But Viola Green goes to Glenwood School!" declared Dorothy.

  "No! Really? Who is she?"

  "A friend of Alice MacAllister, from Dunham. I was so surprised whenshe said she went to Glenwood."

  "But, my dear, what will that matter? There are many girls atGlenwood. All you will have to do is to choose wisely in selectingyour friends from among them."

  "If Tavia were only with me I would not need other friends," demurredDorothy.

  "Does she want to go?" asked Mrs. White suddenly.

  "I believe she does, but she denies it. I think she does that becauseshe does not want me to bother about her. She is such a generous girl,auntie, and dislikes any one fussing over her."

  "There's a step on the porch," and both listened. "Yes," continuedMrs. White, "that's Tavia looking for you. Run down to her and I willspeak with both of you before she leaves."