Part 29 (1/2)
”Known it! Couldn't you feel my presence near! Well, James brought me up. But say, Dorothy! I ran across--whom do you think?”
”Couldn't guess!”
”Viola Green! And say, she looked like her own ghost. Her train had a long wait at noon and she saw me. And the way she bolted out of her car and made her way to my window, just to say, 'Tell Dorothy to go ahead and tell her story! It will be all right!' Now I'd like to know if Viola Green had really gone daffy?”
”Why, no, Tavia. It is all about--Oh, it is such a long story.”
”The very thing for mine--a serial. There's Cologne and Ned and d.i.c.k!
Come on in, everybody! I want you all to see this hat before I take it off. The milliner declared I would never get it on right again.”
In rushed the ”troop,” all so glad to see Tavia back, and all aching for a glimpse of the new spring hat.
”Tell me about the story, Cologne,” said Tavia. ”You can go on admiring me just the same. What's Dorothy's serial that Viola has the copyright on?”
”That is precisely what we want you to find out,” answered Rose-Mary.
”We have been trying to do it for a whole month.”
”And I'll wager it won't take me ten minutes!”
”But do take your things off,” pleaded Dorothy.
”Not yet. I can't give up this hat so unceremoniously. Isn't it a beauty? But for the story. Go ahead, Cologne.”
”Why, I couldn't tell where to begin,” begged off Rose-Mary.
”Begin at the place where Dorothy Dale went to pieces, and lost all her pretty pink cheeks,” suggested Tavia, noting how much Dorothy had changed during her absence.
”I'll tell you,” said Rose-Mary. ”We'll all run away and let you have a minute to yourselves. Perhaps the serial will leak out.”
”What is it, Dorothy?” asked Tavia seriously when they were alone.
”Why, all about that police ride,” sighed Dorothy. ”I really never could find out just what story was told--they kept me in ignorance of it all, except that it was dreadful. Oh, Tavia! Only lately the girls notice me. They all gave me up, all but Ned, d.i.c.k and Cologne!”
”Gave you up! And about that story! Why didn't you tell them?”
”Oh, I had promised Viola, and she was afraid she would be dismissed--”
”Promised Viola!” and Tavia stared blankly at Dorothy. ”You poor little darling! And no one here to take your part!” and she held Dorothy to her heart a moment. ”Who knows the story as she told it--I always knew she would tell it!”
”Perhaps some of the Pilgrims may know. They split and formed the Rebs.”
”Without me? I'll bet they died an early death! I'm the only thoroughbred Reb in America!” and she brandished her hatpin wildly above her head. ”But you just stay here a minute. My ten minutes alloted for clearing up the mystery is escaping,” and at this Tavia flew out of the room.
It seemed she could not have gone down the corridor when she ran into Dorothy's room again.
”Well, of all the frosts!” she exclaimed. ”I almost pa.s.sed away when that stuttering girl from Maine tried to tell me. But I haven't seen Mrs. Pangborn yet. I'll just run into the office and show her my hat,”
and she was gone again.
”How good it was to have Tavia back,” thought Dorothy. It seemed as if everything had been made right already. But Tavia would surely do something surprising. What would she say to Mrs. Pangborn?