CHAPTER XIV
TAVIA'S TROUBLES
"You must contrive to help me, Nat," urged Tavia, when, an hour or solater, she managed to get a word alone with him. "I can never deliberatelygo off alone on an afternoon like this, when every one is so busy."
"You certainly cannot walk out to Ferndale on a day like this," answeredNat. "I'll have to take you if you must go. But why don't you wait untilnext week, when we might get a better chance?"
"Oh, I simply can't," sighed Tavia. "I feel so mean over the whole thing.And, honestly, I'm so nervous about it. Do you suppose that woman hasanything to do with--the matter?"
"Seems to understand it, at any rate. It won't do any harm to talk withher. I'll manage to get the machine out, and then, all in a flash, you askif I won't take you, pretending you did not plan it. I don't see any otherway out of it."
"Oh, Nat, you are a dear!" exclaimed Tavia in real joy. "But I do hate soto get you into trouble."
"Oh, never mind me," replied the youth good-naturedly. "Guess I'm bigenough to take care of myself. Clear off, now, and when you hear threetoots you will know that is the signal. I'll get ready under pretense ofgoing into town for something, and it won't take long to get out toFerndale."
Tavia ran back to where Dorothy and Mrs. White were busy putting bows ofbright ribbon on gifts, and sealing up parcels with the Merry Christmasstamps. Her cheeks were blazing and her eyes dancing from pent-up nervousstrain. She grew more nervous each moment. Surely Dorothy would notice it,she thought. And then, too, Dorothy had told her Miss Brooks had asked tosee her on Thursday. Would she remember that now?
Tavia picked up the unfinished darning bag, but her fingers trembled soshe could scarcely thread her needle. Mrs. White glanced up from her work.
"You have had a lot of trouble with that bag, Tavia, dear," she said, "Iguess you don't like lining things."
"Oh, I don't mind it at all," stammered Tavia, "but, you see, I have hadno practice. I'll know how better next time."
She fancied she heard Nat coming along the drive. Yes, surely that was themachine. She waited for the toots. Her thimble rolled to the floor. Thenher thread tangled.
Toot! toot! toot!
"Are the boys going out?" asked Dorothy suddenly.
"I didn't think so," replied Mrs. White.
"Oh, I have to go on an errand!" exclaimed Tavia, as if she had justthought of it. "Perhaps Nat will take me. I have a package I have tomail."
She was down the stairs before either Dorothy or Mrs. White had a chanceto speak. They looked at each other questioningly.
"Nat! Nat!" called Tavia from the front door. "Take me! Wait a moment!"
She had her things on and was out instantly.
"Oh, I'm just scared to death!" she exclaimed as she climbed into the seatbeside Nat. "Good-by!" she called up to the window. And then they wereoff.
"Neat little job," exclaimed Nat. "Didn't they ask you where?"
"I didn't give them a chance. I just stammered something about a packageat the post-office. But, Nat, it is such mean work! I can't bear todeceive Dorothy!" and Tavia felt dangerously like crying.
"And do you fool yourself that you are deceiving her?" asked the cousin."I'll bet she comes pretty near guessing it all, and for my part I cannotsee why you do not up and tell her. It is no great crime to--"
"Oh, please, don't, Nat!" begged the girl. "It's bad enough, goodnessknows, but don't let's go over it again."
"The Griswold is quite a swell place," remarked Nat. "She must either havemoney, or make money, to put up there."
"And I feel that she put that ring in Dorothy's bag. Oh, perhaps she isonly trying to get me into some other trouble."
"Well, don't get," advised Nat. "I'll be outside within call, and if youget suspicious just raise your finger and I'll be Johnnie on the spot."
The Griswold was a large, stone building, originally intended to be usedas a handsome private residence, but of late years converted into arest-resort or sanitarium. Tavia mounted the broad steps timidly andtouched the old-fashioned knocker. In a moment a butler appeared and tookher card for Miss Brooks, while Tavia waited in the spaciousreception-room. She noticed that this apartment was almost overcrowdedwith gilt-framed pictures, some paintings, others evidently familyportraits.
Presently Miss Brooks entered. She wore a simple, close-fitting blackgown, and Tavia felt instinctively that this little woman possessed apowerful personality. She was even inclined to fear her, although thissentiment might be a matter of nervous excitement rather than the resultof well-founded antipathy.
Tavia noticed she was not poorly dressed--she looked very different now;the woman in black on the train had presented such a distressed, worn-outappearance.
"Come right up to my room," said Miss Brooks pleasantly. "I received yournote, and have been expecting you."
Tavia smiled and murmured something as she followed Miss Brooks up thesoft, carpeted stairs. At the first landing the woman opened a door, andmotioned Tavia to step in. The room was large and well-furnished after theregulation boarding-house plan--dressing-table, desk, couch-bed, andcurtained bookcase, but no article of furniture indicated any line ofbusiness that might be carried on in the room, Tavia observed.
Miss Brooks closed the door gently, but made sure it was well closed. Thenshe took a chair directly opposite Tavia.
"You are Miss Travers," she began in a most business-like way.
"Yes," replied Tavia simply.
"Well, I asked you to come, Miss Travers, because I felt I could help you.I make few friends--the world played me false long ago--but when I see ayoung girl like you in danger, I am not too bitter to warn her."
"Thank you," Tavia managed to utter.
"You no doubt think me a strange woman--every one does--but I have amotive in traveling about. I had a very dear sister whom I lost years ago.Lately I have learned that she died in this section of the country. Sheleft a child--a baby girl--and I hope some day I may find that child."Miss Brooks paused to cover her eyes with her slim hand. Tavia noticedthat her hands were white and shapely. After a moment's hesitation MissBrooks continued in the same business-like voice she had at first assumed.
"As I have said, I think I can help you." She crossed to thedressing-table, opened a drawer and took from it a large envelope. Fromthis envelope she unfolded a sheet of closely typewritten paper. This sheshowed to Tavia.
"Is that your signature?" she asked, pointing to the name signed to theletter.
"Why, yes," stammered Tavia, startled and surprised.
"You are astonished that I should have your letter," said the woman. "Butso-called confidential correspondence travels many miles these days. Iaddress letters and do penwork for business firms, and have received yourletter among hundreds of others."
A flash of indignation crossed Tavia's face. She wanted to snatch thatletter and tear it into a thousand pieces.
But Miss Brooks was quick to discern her indignation.
"Of course, I am responsible for every letter," she said. "In fact, I runa great risk in even showing this to you. But I felt I would have to makesure--that you were the party--involved."
Tavia felt like a culprit.
Involved!
She sighed heavily as Miss Brooks fumbled with the telltale letter.
"You lost five dollars?" asked Miss Brooks.
"Yes. Five of my own, and ten of a--friend's."
"Oh!" and the woman's eyebrows went up in surprise. "Yes, I see. NathanielWhite," and she ran her fingers through a package of coupons. "Of course,he belongs here. He is one of the gentlemen from The Cedars?"
"Yes," stammered Tavia, feeling as if her cheeks would ignite if somethingdid not promptly relieve the tension.
"Strange, I had overlooked that. I thought you were the only party abouthere whose name I had received. Is he the young man outside?"
"Yes--but I would rather not bring him in," Tavia said. "He knows, ofcourse, the money is lost, but--"
"I had not th
e slightest intention of speaking to him, child. In fact, itwould not do for me to make known my business to the patrons of thishouse. You see, I came here, as I was told this was one of theoldest-established sanitariums in the State, and I hoped, in a vague way,to hear something of my poor sister Marie."
Tavia was silent. She felt instantly relieved at the idea that Nat wouldnot hear all Miss Brooks might choose to say.
"The only way I might be of service to you," said Miss Brooks, as shefolded up the letter, "would be by giving you some advice. You see, Icannot betray a firm I am employed by. But the method I would advise youto follow is being used every day by--victims. It is merely a matter ofthreatening to expose the scheme--they know the business is unlawful."
"Oh, I could never do that!" exclaimed Tavia. "My father is so well known;he is a squire, you know."
"All the more reason why they would pay attention to your letter," arguedMiss Brooks. "But, of course, if you feel that way about it, all I can sayis that you know how easily a young girl may be deceived, and, in thefuture, avoid such alluring promises. You could never expect any returnfrom that sort of advertising."
Tavia was on her feet to go. She was disappointed. She felt the advicepainfully unnecessary. In making mistakes she boasted of the faculty ofalways finding a new one--she never was known to repeat a downright error.
"I am very much obliged," she faltered, "and would do as you ask, but I amafraid to write any more letters."
Miss Brooks smiled. "I shall drop you a line," she offered, "if I find anyother way of assisting you."
Tavia thanked her again, made her way down the stairs, and, with a sigh ofrelief, climbed up beside Nat in the car awaiting her.
"What did she say?" asked Nat impatiently.
"Oh, let me get my breath," begged Tavia. "I don't know what she did say,except she wanted me to write a letter and threaten to expose it--as if Icould do that!"
"Why couldn't you?" asked Nat pointedly.
"Oh, I am just sick of it all," replied Tavia helplessly. "I want to dropit. I see no good in keeping it up now."
"Well, Tavia," said Nat not unkindly, but with more determination than itwas usual for him to show, "I don't believe in letting money go as easilyas all that, and if there is any possibility of us recovering it, it is'up to us' to try. You know I am no 'knocker,' but I would rather have my'tenner' than that slip of baby-blue paper."
Tavia did not answer. She was beginning to feel the consequences of hererror. She never could stand being thus obligated to Nat--and she a guestat his house! Her humiliation was crushing. Nat had never spoken to herthat way before.
The ride home was made with little conversation. Tavia was planning; Natwas evidently thinking very seriously about something--something he couldnot care to discuss.
All the Christmas preparations had lost interest for Tavia now, and when,that afternoon, Dorothy and Mrs. White went on with their work of love,she sat up in her own room writing and re-writing a letter. Finally itread:
"DEAR OLD MUMSEY: I hope you have received your pin, and that you have carefully hidden away Johnnie's steam engine. I know he will be delighted with it. Now, mumsey, dear, I have a great favor to ask. Could you possibly let me have five dollars more? I will send it back before my holiday is over, because I only want to lend it to some one, and I am sure to get it back. But, you see, no one has ever asked such a favor of me before, and I do wish I could accommodate them. Don't say anything to dad about it, but just send it along if you possibly can, and I will surely send it back very soon. I am having a lovely time, but feel I ought to be home with you all for my real Christmas.
"Lovingly, your daughter,
"OCTAVIA."
"There," she finished, "I guess that will do. I do hate to bother poor,darling, little hard-working mother, but what can I do? Perhaps I will behome for Christmas, too."
Then she wrote another letter--to her father. She made the same request,couched in different terms. Perhaps they would each send the money, andthen she could pay Nat.