CHAPTER XII DOROTHY IS WORRIED

  Dorothy had been at the Cedars one short, delightful week when again thequestion of Tavia and her plans came up for serious consideration. Mrs.White and her niece sat out on the veranda, with the early summer flowersperfuming the soft zephyrs that came through the vine-covered lattice,and they were talking of the absent one--wondering why she did not cometo Birchland and instead went to the city in the summer--to Buffalo wheneverybody in the place (except the tourists on the way to Niagara to theFalls), were leaving for more quiet and recreative surroundings.

  "I'm afraid," said Mrs. White finally, "that Tavia is 'stage-struck.'"

  These words came to Dorothy like a blow--something long dreaded butmaterialized at last--in spite of hopes and promises.

  "Oh, Aunt Winnie!" exclaimed Dorothy with a sigh, "you don't really thinkTavia would do anything wrong?"

  "No, that I do not, my dear," promptly answered Mrs. White. "A thing isnot wrong unless we intend to make it so. But Tavia has a queer idea ofright and wrong. You know she has had no home discipline--no training incharacter building. She has grown to be as good as she is through thecommonest law of nature--she was born good. But she has not gone beyondthat same law in growing better than she started out to be--that is moraldevelopment, and requires careful culture and prudent discipline."

  "But the stage," whispered Dorothy, as if afraid the very word wouldbreathe contamination. "Do you think--Tavia would--would ever try to--togo on a public stage?"

  "On that point I could not now express an opinion," answered the auntkindly, noticing how seriously Dorothy had taken her words. "Of course ifshe happened to get in with persons interested in that line of work--shemight be tempted to try it."

  "But what could she do? There are no plays now--it is summer time!"

  "The very time, my dear, when small companies try to get a hearing. Thereare no good plays to attract persons, and the stay-at-homes need someamusement."

  This had not occurred to Dorothy before. Her dread of Tavia going on thestage had been kept within bounds by the thought that there were no playsgiven in any of the theatres, for Dorothy knew little about such things,and had never given a thought to those small companies--the"barnstormers."

  "Well," she announced with a sigh, "I believe I will have to write toher. I can not rest and not know just where she is. Somehow I feel as ifmy own sister had deserted me--as if she were out among strangers. Oh,Aunt Winnie, you can not realize how much Tavia has always been to me!"and Dorothy dropped her head in her hands to hide the expression ofsincere grief that marked her face.

  "Well, child, there is absolutely no need to worry. No doubt Tavia issnugly home at this moment, with her own, little, old-fashionedmother--or even out in Buffalo enjoying the visit to her mother'sfriends. To sit down and imagine all sorts of horrible things--why,Dorothy, it is very unlike you!"

  "Perhaps I am silly," Dorothy agreed, smiling brightly as she looked up,"but you know Tavia has been so odd lately. And then she was sick, youknow."

  Dorothy looked off across the lawn, but she seemed to see nothing.Perhaps she had a day-vision of her friend far away, but whatever Dorothyimagined was far from what Tavia was actually engaged in at that moment.

  "Well, come, my dear," said her aunt at length. "The boys are waitingwith the auto. See what a spin through the country will do for tirednerves. I tell you this winding up of school is always trying--more sothan you can imagine. You are, after all, pretty well tired out, in spiteof your pretty pink cheeks," and she tilted Dorothy's chin up to reachher own lips, just as Nat swung himself up on the porch and demanded theimmediate presence of his aunt, and cousin, in the Fire Bird that pantedat the door.

  But, somehow, the afternoon was all lost on Dorothy. Those words"stage-struck" echoed in her ears and she longed to get back to her roomand write to Tavia and then to receive the answer that she might show itto Aunt Winnie, to prove that Tavia was as reliable as ever--that shewould soon be with them all at North Birchland.

  When, after a spin, that on any other occasion would have beendelightful, Ned alighted at the little village post-office, Dorothy askedhim to bring her out two special delivery stamps. Her cousin inquiredwhat the rush of mail was for, but she only smiled and tried to hide thefact that she really had occasion to provide for sending a letter in ahurry, and receiving its reply as fast as Uncle Sam could bring it.

  They started off again, and a long, exhilarating spin brought them outupon the direct road to the Cedars. Then, after helping their mother andDorothy out, the boys "shooed" the Fire Bird back to its "nest," and madea dash to witness the last inning of a ball game that had been inprogress all the afternoon on the grounds, just across the broad meadow,that stretched in front of their home.

  This left Dorothy to herself, for the major had finally listened toRoger's earnest appeal to take him to the ball game. Joe went with theboys who carried the bats--as the latter was always sure to be on time.Then, as Mrs. White would be busy for some time, giving orders fordinner, Dorothy hurried to her room, and sat down, to think it all out,before she undertook to put into written words what she wanted to say toTavia.

  As Dorothy had said to her aunt the loss of Tavia's companionship waslike missing that of a dear sister, for the two girls had beeninseparable since early childhood. They had always been together, or theyknew they would be apart but for a few days at most.

  But now it was different. Heretofore each time that Dorothy thought shewould have to be obliged to leave Tavia, either to attend school, or takesome new step in life, it so happened that Tavia went along, so that thechain of companionship that began at Dalton had not yet been broken.

  And, of course, Dorothy's worries might all be unfounded. As Mrs. Whitehad said, Tavia might be safe at home with her mother.

  So it was to Dalton that Dorothy addressed her letter. She needed to beparticular in wording it, so that no misunderstanding would arise, shouldthe letter fall into other hands than Tavia's. Dorothy enclosed a specialdelivery stamp for a hurried answer, which she begged Tavia to send, andshe put another of the stamps on the envelope of her own missive.

  "There," she said with a sigh of relief as she slipped the littlecream-colored square into her blouse. "I shall just have time to run tothe office with it before dinner. Somehow I feel better already. Italmost seems as if I had been talking to Tavia. I will surely have ananswer by to-morrow night. I do wonder--Oh, I wonder where Tavia is--andwhat she is doing just now!"

  It was a pleasant walk to the country post-office, and Dorothy hurriedalong in a happier frame of mind than she had enjoyed during all thatday. The small worry that had been smouldering in her heart for someweeks (ever since the night of Tavia's queer actions in her sleep whenshe painted her face with the red crayon) did not need much encouragementto burst forth into a live flame.

  And that was precisely what happened when Nat also expressed the opinionthat Tavia should have come to North Birchland and that Buffalo was "abig place for such a small girl." Then, that Dorothy's aunt should stateplainly her fear regarding Tavia's love for the stage,--surely all thiswas enough to throw Dorothy into a very fever of anxiety.

  That Dorothy knew of Tavia's strange actions on that one occasion, andthat she alone, was aware of this, added to the anxiety. The book "How toAct" had betrayed Tavia's secret in clearer terms than even Dorothy wouldadmit to herself. But if Tavia should run away! And if Dorothy had notwarned the Travers folks in time!

  That evening, after mailing her letter, Dorothy made an excuse to leavethe rest of the family and so remained in her own room. She wanted to bealone--to think. In fact, she had been so accustomed to those littlesolitary thinking spells in Glenwood that the time at the Cedars seemedto be a trifle too exacting. The boys wanted to be with their sister, andMrs. White had so much to talk over (it was so delightful to have a "bigdaughter" to converse with), then the major needed Dorothy's counsel inmany small, but important matters, so t
hat, altogether, the girl fromGlenwood found herself busy--just a little too busy, considering theproblem she was trying to solve, which was how to get immediately intocommunication with Tavia.

  That night she dreamed of it all, and for three days following themailing of her letter she could scarcely think of anything other then whythe expected answer did not arrive.

  Finally, Dorothy felt that she must take some one into her confidence.All the nervous energy of her young nature had, for days, been so setupon that one point--to hear from Tavia--that the whole circumstance hadassumed great importance. She could think of nothing else. Every houradded to her anxiety. She imagined all sorts of dreadful things. Yes, shemust tell somebody of it and thus relieve her mind or she felt she wouldbe ill. This seemed to her the greatest trouble she had ever encountered.

  It was a delightful summer evening when Dorothy, dressed in her sea-foammulle gown, with its dainty silver white trimmings stepped out on theporch, and had the good fortune to find Nat there alone. It was to heryoung cousin that she had made up her mind to confide her worries, andhere he was, as if he was just waiting to help her in this matter of herown heart and Tavia's.

  "Great Scott! But you startled me!" exclaimed Nat, jumping up from thehammock. "I do believe, Doro, that I had clean forgotten that you werewith us--no offense--but you see I was sort of dreaming and when youglided through that window--well--I say, Doro, I thought my dream hadcome true!"

  "Nat, could you come for a little walk?" asked Dorothy. "You should notdream so early, and besides, you should not, at any time, dream of younggirls. You admitted as much, you know. But Nat, I just want a quiettalk--come out along the road as far as the bridge. I want to make surewe are entirely alone."

  "Now you don't expect me to move the bridge, do you, Doro? We may be allalone with the exception of the old stone walls and the planks."

  Tucking Dorothy's arm under his own, Nat led the way down the path, thenout upon the open road, which was now streaked with faint beams ofmoonlight, that filtered down through the trees. Nat seemed to feel thatDorothy wanted to talk of Tavia, for he had not been slow to notice thegrowing look of anxiety that had come upon his cousin's face in the lastfew days.

  "Heard from Tavia?" he asked in a matter-of-fact way, thinking to helpDorothy on with her story.

  "No, Nat," she answered, "and that is just what I want to talk about. Iam almost worried to death about her. Whatever do you think it means?"

  "Think what what means? That Tavia has not answered a letter? Why thatdoesn't mean anything--at least it didn't last winter, when she wouldwrite me for something she wanted me to get for her, and forget to writeagain saying she had received it. I suppose all girls think they shouldtake their time writing to a fellow, but Tavia was about the limit. Soyou have no reason to fret, as she will probably write to you the day shepacks her trunk to come to the Cedars. Then she won't have time to mailthe letter, so, when she gets here, and steams off the uncancelled stamp,she will calmly hand over the note. Now that's Tavia and her way of beingprompt."

  "But this is different," said Dorothy. "I did not know Tavia wrote to youlast winter."

  "Now don't go to romancing. I believe I did get two letters from MissTravers in answer to five I had written to her. It was about that littlecolored boy you heard me joking about--some imp Tavia had taken a fancyto, and she wanted to get him a small express wagon. So she wrote to me,being aware of my unusual ability in the line of selecting suitableexpress wagons for little colored boys."

  "But listen, Nat," exclaimed Dorothy, eagerly, "I wrote to Dalton a weekago to-day, sent a special delivery stamp for a quick reply, and Ihaven't heard a word since."

  "Oh, that's it. You sent a special stamp. That was where you made a bigmistake. Miss Tavia wanted to write to that girl in Buffalo--had beenputting it off as usual--and when she saw your blue stamp it brought herthe inspiration. She wrote to 'Dolly,' if Dolly is her name, used yourstamp, and 'Dolly' answered 'come.' Tavia went. There you are. Now whatdo you think of me as a wireless sleuth?"

  "Do you really think Tavia is in Buffalo?" asked Dorothy, endeavoring tobring her cousin down to a common-sense viewpoint.

  "Sure of it. But, say, Doro. I'll tell you what! I'll just take a fly inthe Fire Bird to-morrow morning, and find out for you for sure. That willbe better than the special delivery boy on his bicycle that never moves.I'll be back by lunch time."

  "Oh, that will be splendid!" cried Dorothy, giving her cousin's arm atight squeeze. "You see I could not trust another letter, and I'm soanxious to know. Oh, Nat, you are the very best cousin--"

  "Not so bad," interrupted Nat, "when it comes to special messengers. But,little cousin, you can depend on me. I won't let any one hold up theautomobile mail coach."