CHAPTER X LEAVING GLENWOOD
But one more day remained of the school term at Glenwood. All the testshad been concluded, and, as there were to be no formal exercises the"last day" was given over entirely to packing up, and making ready forthe departure from the institution.
Dorothy and Tavia were busy with the others. To Dorothy the prospect ofseeing her dear ones so soon, filled every thought of this day's work.Tavia, too, seemed more like her old self and "jollied the girls" as sheflung things into her trunk with her usual disregard for order.
"They'll all have to come out again," she replied to Dorothy'sremonstrance, "so what's the use of being particular how they go in?"
"But your pretty Christmas bag," begged Dorothy. "Do be careful not tocrush that."
"Oh, indeed there's nothing to crush. I took the ribbons out of it forthe neck and sleeves of my white lawn, and when I extracted them from theflowered stuff there was nothing left but a perfectly flat piece ofcretonne, with a row of little brass rings on one side. I just ran a bitof faded ribbon through the rings--and just wait until I show you."
At this Tavia plunged her hands down into the depths of her trunk andpresently brought up the article in question.
"There!" she exclaimed, clapping the bag on her head. "Isn't that apretty sunbonnet?"
Dorothy beheld it in amazement.
"It certainly does look sweet on you," she said, "but what in the worldwill you want a fancy sunbonnet for? Surely you will not use it inDalton--and in Buffalo--"
"I think it would make a tremendous hit in Buffalo," declared Tavia,wheeling around to show off the effect of her thick brown hair beneaththe little row of brass rings that held the ribbon which bound the bit offlowered stuff to her neck. At the front her face seemed to fit exactly,and surely nothing could be more becoming than that Christmas bag.
"Oh, I think it's a shame," faltered Dorothy, "to spoil that beautifulbag to make a plaything."
"But we all have to have 'playthings,'" said Tavia, with a strong accenton the word "play." Then, with one more swing around, like a figure in ashow case, Tavia took off the sunbonnet and went on with her packing.
"It seems so queer," Dorothy remarked, sliding her tennis racquet downthe side of her trunk, "that we should be going in different directions.We have always been able to help each other in the packing before."
"Well, I'd just like to leave half my old truck behind," replied Tavia,"and I don't know but what I will have to if this trunk won't stretch alittle. It's chock full now, and just look at the commotion on thefloor."
"I told you," insisted Dorothy, "that you would have to put the things indifferently. Now you will have to take them all out again and roll themup tight. You can get twice as much in that way."
"Take them all out!" Tavia almost shrieked. "Never!" And, following thisexclamation the girl jumped into the trunk and proceeded to dance the"trunk traveler's jig" on the unfortunate collection of baggage.
"Tavia! Don't!" begged Dorothy. "I'm sure I heard something break."
"Oh, that was my last summer's hat breaking up its plans for this year. Iput it in the bottom in hopes that it would meet an untimely end, but Ireally did not intend to murder it," she joked, stepping out of thetrunk.
"But at any rate," she went on, as she flung part of the "commotion" offthe floor into the hollow she had succeeded in making for the variousarticles, "the poor old thing will take up less room dead than alive, andthere will be no possible danger of my having to wear it for a turn ortwo when I get home. Nothing like getting in one's supplies while you'refresh--before the folks have a chance to get too friendly with you. I'vefound that out."
"But it was a real pretty hat."
"Well, even pretty hats are not immune from accidents, and you sawyourself that it was an accident--pure and simple."
A half hour later all the trunks had been packed, and the two Daltongirls sat in their little room exchanging confidences and making allsorts of school-girl promises of writing often, and sending pretty cards,besides having photographs taken of which to make especially affectionateremembrances.
"I'll send you one just as soon as I get to Buffalo," Tavia declared,holding Dorothy very close, for the latter seemed much inclined to cry asthe hour of parting drew near.
"But it will be so lonely in North Birchland without you," persistedDorothy, with a sob. "I do wish you would give up that trip to Buffalo."
Tavia assured her chum that it would be impossible as she had promisedGrace Barnum to go to her home to visit her.
Dorothy finally jumped up and made an effort to pull herself together.She went over to the dresser and picked up a book.
"Is this yours?" she began, and then stopped suddenly. It was a gust ofwind that had blown up the thin strip of muslin covering the top of thedresser and revealed the little red book. It had been concealed thereand, as Dorothy took it up she saw on the cover:
HOW TO ACT _The Beginner's Guide._
Tavia was at the other end of the room and did not at once see the bookin Dorothy's hand.
"Did you--do you--want--this?" Dorothy stammered, again holding thevolume out toward Tavia.
A deep flush instantly came over Tavia's face. Dorothy was watching herwith a look--a look at once pleading and full of sadness.
Tavia put out her hand for the book.
"Oh, that funny little leaflet," she tried to say as if it were a joke."I suppose I might just as well take it, but it's full of the worst sortof nonsense. Let me show you--"
"Oh, no; don't bother," replied Dorothy, rather stiffly. "But that seemsa queer sort of a book to take home from boarding school. Hadn't youbetter destroy it, as you say it is all nonsense?"
The red covers of the pamphlet fluttered in Tavia's hand. The flush onher cheeks threatened to match the hue of the book and told its ownguilty story.
"Oh, I might as well take it with me," and Tavia's words sounded rather alame excuse. "It will be amusing to read on the train."
"Oh, Tavia!" Dorothy burst into tears. "Won't you give up--those stagenotions? Do, please!" and she clasped her arms about her chum, weepingbitterly.
"Oh, don't! Dorothy don't cry so!" begged Tavia, stroking the yellowhead. "I will give it up--all up! Yes, Dorothy, dear, listen! Look here!"and at that Dorothy raised her head.
With her hands free Tavia tore the little red book into shreds and tossedthem into the waste basket.
"There!" she exclaimed. "I'm through with--through with all of it! Idon't want to know how to act! I'll never try! Dorothy! Dorothy!" and themiserable girl threw herself upon the bed in a frenzy of grief andexcitement. "Just forgive me for it all--for trying to deceive you. Ihave been wretched all through it--and I only want you--and all theothers--just as you used to be. I don't believe in ambition!" She stoodupright. "I'll go home to dear, old Dalton, and stay there until--until Icome to you at North Birchland."
When the other girls tapped on the door of room nineteen late thatafternoon, to say good-bye, they found two very happy young maidenswaiting for the particular carriage that was to take them to the depot.Dorothy and Tavia could not be separated. They clung to each other inspite of all the invitations to "do the rounds" and join in the last andnoisiest fun of the season. Together, very demurely, they called at theoffice to say good-bye to the teachers.
When, at last, the carriage did come for them, Dorothy and Tavia rode offtogether--one bound for the train to North Birchland, and the other goinghome--home to Dalton, to try to be happy in the little country town whereshe and Dorothy Dale had spent such a happy childhood, and where Taviawould find plenty of time to dream of things scattered far out in anotherworld, that seemed like the golden fingers of ambition beckoning her on.To leave Dalton and the common school life--to enter the walks of cityuncertainties--to become part of the great, grinding machine of humanhardships--that machine which is always willing to stop its terrificspeed long e
nough to gather into its cogs and meshes the life of aninnocent young girl.