CHAPTER XVII AT THE PLAY
But little light was thrown on the disappearance of Tavia through anyinformation Dorothy could obtain from Grace Barnum. In fact that younglady was quite as puzzled as was Dorothy, and when told that Tavia wasnot to be found at home a few days previous (this being within the timewhen Tavia had left Buffalo ostensibly for her residence in Dalton), MissBarnum wanted to communicate immediately with the missing girl's parents.
Nat, with kind consideration, had declined to step inside when Dorothycalled at the Barnum home. He thought he might better give the two youngladies a chance to discuss the situation alone, and so, under pretense ofstrolling through the little park opposite the house, left Grace andDorothy together.
It took the girls but a moment to arrive at the same point of interest.Grace showed keenest anxiety when Dorothy inquired for Tavia, for she hadfears of her own--since her friend's visit.
"I must write at once," she insisted. "What would Mrs. Travers think ofme if anything happened to Tavia?"
"But I have already begun a letter," stated Dorothy, truthfully enough,"so perhaps I had better make the inquiry. You know how excitable Mrs.Travers is. Perhaps I could write without causing her any alarm, whereasshe would surely expect you to know whether or not Tavia was home. Ihaven't the slightest doubt but that she is home--now," Dorothy hastenedto add. "I am expecting her at North Birchland any day."
This had the effect of putting Grace at her ease. Of course, shereflected, Tavia might even be at the Cedars now, as her mother had givenher permission to go about almost as she wished, and she had expected topay a number of visits to friends, no special time being set for them.This Grace knew for she had seen a letter to that effect from Mrs.Travers to Tavia.
"You see," said Dorothy, rising to go, "they have always given Tavia somuch her own way. She has been--well, sort of superior to the others athome. That, I think, is a real mistake, for a girl is expected to knowmore of the world and its ways than is consistent with her actualexperience."
"Exactly," admitted Grace. "That is what I thought once when Tavia actedso--well so self-reliant. I do hope she is safe at home. You will let meknow, won't you Dorothy? I may call you that, mayn't I? I feel as if Ihad known you for a long time, as Tavia has talked so much about you."
So the two girls parted, and Dorothy's heart seemed to grow heavier ateach new turn in her quest for the missing one.
"Why should Tavia act so?" she asked herself over and over again, as shewalked along with Nat who tried to cheer her up.
"If you don't stop worrying, Doro," he counseled as he noted the look ofanxiety on her face, "you'll be a sick girl 'way out here in Buffalo."
"I'm going to be excused from the party to-night," she answered. "Ireally have a headache, and I must have time to write some letters."
"Great headache cure--letter writing. But I suppose you'll not rest untilyou sift this matter to the very bottom. And, to be honest, Doro, I can'tsay I blame you. I'd give a whole lot, right now, to know where the wilyTavia tarries."
As discreetly as she could, Dorothy wrote the letter to Mrs. Travers toask the mooted question. She did not say she had been to Grace Barnum's,but simply inquired for Tavia's address. On an early mail the next day (aremarkable thing for Mrs. Travers to answer a letter so promptly) camethe reply that Tavia was at the Barnums! There was some other news ofDalton in the epistle, but that concerning Tavia, which her mother hadapparently set down as a matter of fact, stood out prominently from allthe rest.
In spite of her fears, when the letter presented the actual fact thatTavia was not at home, and, as Dorothy knew she was not at Grace's, itcame like a shock to the girl already in a highly nervous state becauseof what she had gone through. Hoping against hope she had clung to theslim possibility that some explanation might come from Dalton, but noweven this was shattered.
One thing Dorothy quickly decided upon. She must have another talk withAlma Mason, and she must be careful not to excite suspicion as to thereal purpose of the conversation.
Realizing at once that she must now move cautiously in the matter, forthe slightest intimation that Tavia was away from home and friends,without either the latter or relatives having a clue to her whereabouts,would be sure to ruin Tavia's reputation, Dorothy now determined thateven Nat should not know of her plans for continuing the search.
How hopeless Dorothy felt all alone in such a work! But find Tavia shemust, and to find her very soon she felt was imperative, for, even inBuffalo, with her friends, Dorothy could see the dangers of a large cityto an unprotected and unsuspecting young girl.
But the boys were going back to North Birchland the next day! How couldDorothy act in time to get to Rochester? For to Rochester she felt thatshe now must go. Everything pointed to the fact that Tavia was eitherthere, or that there a clue to her whereabouts could be obtained.
On taking her morning walk alone, for Rose-Mary was a little indisposed,after the party of the evening previous, Dorothy met Miss Mason. It wasnot difficult to renew the conversation concerning Tavia. Bit by bit Almatold of Tavia's infatuation for the stage, until Dorothy became more thanever convinced that it was in theatrical surroundings that the missinggirl would be found.
Mrs. Markin had planned a little theatre party for Rose-Mary and some ofher Buffalo friends that afternoon. The play was one especiallyinteresting to young girls--a drama built on lines, showing how oneambitious girl succeeded in the world with nothing but a kind heart and aworthy purpose to start with. It abounded in scenes of rural home life,wholesome and picturesque, and one of the features, most conspicuous inthe advertising on the billboards was that of the character Katherine,the heroine, holding a neighborhood meeting in a cornfield, among thelaborers during the noon hour. The girl appeared in the posters perchedupon a water barrel and from that pulpit in the open she, as the daughterof a blind chair caner, won hearts to happiness with the gospel ofbrotherly love--the new religion of the poor and the oppressed.
While Rose-Mary and Alma enthused over the prospect of a particularlypleasant afternoon, Dorothy seemed nervous, and it was with somemisgivings that she finally agreed to attend the party that was reallyarranged for her special entertainment. The boys, Ned, Nat and Jack weregoing, of course, and to make the affair complete Rose-Mary had alsoinvited Grace Barnum.
Grace was a particularly bright girl, the sort that cares more for booksthan pretty clothes, and who had the temerity to wear her hair parteddirectly in the middle in the very wildest of pompadour days. Not thatGrace lacked beauty, for she was of the classic type that seems to defynationality to such an extent, that it might be a matter of mostuncertain guess to say to what country her ancestors had belonged.
This "neutrality" was a source of constant delight to Grace, for each newfriend would undertake to assign her to a different country, and so shefelt quite like the "real thing in Cosmopolitan types" as she expressedit. The fact, however, might have been accounted for by the incident ofGrace having been born under missionary skies in China. Her mother was anAmerican blond, her father a dark foreigner of French and Spanishancestry and, with all this there was in the Barnum family a distinctstrain, of Puritan stock, from which the name Barnum came. Grace, beingdistinctly different from other girls, no doubt attracted Tavia to her,and now, when received among Tavia's friends she was welcomed with markedattention that at once established a bond of friendship between her andthe other girls.
The boys, naturally, were not slow to "discover her" so that, altogether,the little matinee party, when it had reached the theatre, was a verymerry throng of young people. Mrs. Markin acted as chaperone and, fiveminutes before the time set for the play to begin Dorothy and her friendssat staring at the green fire-proof curtain from a roomy box. Dorothy waslike one in a dream.
All about her the others were eagerly waiting, looking the while at theprogrammes, but Dorothy sat there with the pink leaflet lying unheeded inher lap.
"How much th
at picture of Katherine resembles Tavia," was the thoughtthat disturbed her. "The same hair--the same eyes--what if it should beshe?"
The curtain was swaying to and fro as those behind it brushed past intheir preparations for the presentation of "Katherine, the Chair Caner'sDaughter."
Dorothy's heart beat wildly when she fancied Tavia amid suchscenes--Tavia the open-hearted girl, the little Dalton "wild flower" asDorothy liked to call her. Surely no stage heroine could be more heroicthan she had always been in her role of shedding happiness on all whocame within her sphere of life.
Suddenly Rose-Mary turned to Nat and remarked:
"How Tavia would enjoy this." She looked around on the gay scene as thetheatre was filling up. "What a pity we could not bring her with us forthe good time."
Dorothy felt her face flush as Nat made some irrelevant reply. Jackturned directly to Dorothy and, noting her inattention to the programmeopened his to point out some of the items of interest.
But still Dorothy stared nervously at the big asbestos curtain and madefeeble efforts to answer her companion's questions. Even Mrs. Markinobserved Dorothy's rather queer manner, and she, too, showed concern thather daughter's guest should be ill at ease.
"Aren't you well, dear?" she asked quietly.
Dorothy fumbled with a lace flounce on her sleeve.
"Yes," she answered, "but there is so much to see and think about." Shefelt as if she were apologizing. "I am not accustomed to city theatres,"she added.
Then the orchestra broke into the opening number, and presently a flashof light across the curtain told that the players were ready to begin.
The introductory scenes were rather of an amateur order--a poor countryhome--the blind chair caner at work, and his more or less amusingcustomers. One flashily-dressed woman wanted him to put a rush bottom ina chair that had belonged to her grandmother, but absolutely refused topay even the very low price the caner asked for the work. She wanted itas cheaply as though rush bottoms could be made by machinery. He was poorand needed work but he could not accept her terms.
The woman in a red silk gown, with a bewildering shower of veils floatingabout her, did not gain any applause for her part in the play. Dorothynoted that even on the stage undesirable persons do not please, and thatthe assumed character is taken into account as well as their acting.
It was when the blind man sat alone at his door step, with his sightlesseyes raised pitifully to the inviting sunset, that the pretty Katherinecame skipping into view across the footlights.
Instinctively Nat reached out and, without being observed graspedDorothy's hand. "How like Tavia!" he mused, while Dorothy actually seemedto stop breathing. From that moment to the very end of the play Nat andDorothy shared the same thought--it might be Tavia. The others had eachremarked the resemblance, but, being more interested in the drama than inthe whereabouts of Dorothy's chum (whom they had no occasion to worryabout for they did not know the circumstances,) they merely dwelt on itas a passing thought--they were interested in what happened to the chaircaner's daughter.
At last every member of the company found some excuse to get on thestage, and then the end was reached, and the curtain went down while thethrong hurried out, seemingly indifferent to the desire of the actors toshow themselves again as the curtain shot up for a final display of thelast scene.
The Markin party was to go to a restaurant for ice-cream, and so hurriedfrom the box. Dorothy drifted along with them for a few moments, and thenagain that one thought came to her, overwhelming her.
"What if that should really be Tavia?"
She had but a moment to act, then, when the crowd pressed closer andthere was difficulty in walking because of the blockade, Dorothy slippedback, stepped out of her place, and was at once swallowed up in a sea ofpersons.