Dorothy Dale's Great Secret
CHAPTER IV THE APPARITION
It seemed to Dorothy that she had scarcely closed her eyes when she wasstartled by someone moving about the room. She sat up straight to makesure she was not dreaming, and then she saw a white object standingbefore the mirror!
A beam of moonlight glimmered directly across the glass, and Dorothycould now see that the figure was Tavia.
Surmising that her companion had merely arisen to get a throat lozenge,for she had been taking them lately, Dorothy did not speak, expectingTavia to return to her bed directly.
But the girl stood there--so long and so still that Dorothy soon calledto her.
"What is the matter, Tavia?" she asked.
"Oh, nothing," returned the other, without looking around.
"But what are you doing?"
"Making up," and Dorothy could see her daubing cold cream over her face.
Still convinced that Tavia was busy with some ordinary toilet operation,as she had, of late, become very particular about such matters, Dorothyturned over and closed her eyes. But she could not sleep. Somethinguncanny seemed to disturb her every time she appeared to be dropping offinto a doze.
Finally she sat up again. There was Tavia still before the mirror,daubing something over her face.
"Tavia!" called Dorothy sharply. "What in the world are you doing?"
"Making up," replied Tavia a second time, and without moving from heroriginal position.
Making up! Surely she was spreading cold cream and red crayon dust allover her face! Had she lost her mind?
For an instant Dorothy stood watching her. But Tavia neither spoke norturned her head.
"Tavia!" she called, taking hold of the hand that held the red chalk.Dorothy noticed that Tavia's palm and fingers were cold and clammy! AndTavia's eyes were open, though they seemed sightless. Dorothy wasthoroughly frightened now. Should she call someone? Miss Higley hadcharge of that wing of the school, and perhaps would know what to do. ButDorothy hesitated to make a scene. Tavia was never ill, and if this wasonly some queer spell it would not be pleasant to have others know aboutit.
Then, feeling intuitively, that this "making up" should not be made apublic affair, Dorothy determined to get Tavia back into her own bed.
"Are you ill?" she asked, rubbing her own hand over her companion'sgreasy forehead.
"Ill? No, indeed," Tavia replied, as mechanically as she had spokenbefore. Still she smeared on the cold cream and red crayon.
"Come!" commanded Dorothy, and, to her amazement, the girl immediatelylaid down the box of cream and the stick of chalk while Dorothy led herto the bed and helped her to make herself comfortable on the pillows.
Then Dorothy quietly went to the dresser and lighted a tiny candle,carrying it over to Tavia's bedside.
Peering anxiously into her face she found her room-mate sleeping andbreathing naturally. There was no evidence of illness, and then, for thefirst time, it occurred to Dorothy that Tavia had been walking in hersleep! And making-up in her sleep!
What could it mean?
How ghastly that hideous color and the streaks made Tavia's face appear!
And, as Dorothy sat beside the bed, gazing into that besmeared face,while the flicker of the little candle played like a tiny lime-light overthe girl's cruelly changed features, a strange fear came into Dorothy'sheart!
After all, was Tavia going to disappoint her? Would she fail just whenshe seemed to have turned the most dangerous corner in her shortcareer--that of stepping from the freedom of girlhood into the moredignified realm of young-ladyship? And would she always be just ordinaryTavia Travers? Always of contradictory impulses, was she never to berelied upon--never to become a well-bred girl?
Tavia turned slightly and rubbed her hand across her face. She seemed tobreathe heavily, Dorothy thought, and, as she touched Tavia's paintedcheek she was certain it was feverish. With that promptness of actionthat had always characterized Dorothy's work in real emergencies, shesnatched the cold cream from the dresser where Tavia had left it, and,with deft fingers, quickly rubbed a generous supply over the face on thepillows.
Although Tavia was waking now Dorothy was determined, if possible, toremove all traces of the red paint before Tavia herself should know thatit had been on her cheeks. Briskly, but with a hand gentle and calm,Dorothy rubbed the cream off on her own linen handkerchief, taking thered mixture with it. Nothing was now left on Tavia's face but a thincoating of the cold cream. That could tell no tales.
Tavia turned to Dorothy and opened her eyes.
"What--what is the matter?" she asked, like one waking from a strangedream.
"Nothing, dear," answered Dorothy. "But I guess you had some nightvision," and she placed the candle, still lighted, on the dresser.
"Did I call? Did I have the nightmare? Why are you not in bed?"
"I got up to see if you were all right," answered Dorothy truthfully. "Doyou want anything? Shall I get you a nice cool drink from the ice tank?"
Tavia was rubbing her face.
"What's this on my cheeks?" she asked, bringing down her hand, smearedwith cold cream.
"I thought you were feverish," said Dorothy, "and I put a little cream onyour face--cold cream might be better than nothing, I thought, as we hadno alcohol."
Tavia did not seem her natural self, and Dorothy, not slow to note thechange in her, was only waiting to see her companion more fully awake,and so out of danger of being shocked suddenly, before calling for help,or, at least, for some medicine.
"My head aches awfully," said the girl on the bed. "I would like a drinkof water--if--if it is not too much trouble."
A call bell was just at the door and Dorothy touched the gong as she wentout into the hall to get the water.
She had scarcely returned with the drink when Miss Higley, in gown andslippers, entered the room. The light had been turned on by this time,and Tavia could see that the teacher was present, but, whether too sickor too sleepy to notice, she seemed to take the situation as a matter ofcourse, and simply drank the water that Dorothy held to her lips, thensank wearily back on her pillow.
Miss Higley, without saying a word, picked up the hand that lay on thecoverlet and felt the pulse. Dorothy stood looking anxiously on.
Tavia really seemed sick, and the tinge of scarlet crayon, that remainedafter Dorothy's cold cream wash, added a higher tint to the feverishflush that now suffused the girl's cheeks.
"Yes, she has a fever," whispered Miss Higley. "But it is not a very highone. I will go and get my thermometer. Meanwhile pick up your garments,Dorothy, so you can take my room, while I stay here the rest of thenight."
Before Dorothy could answer Miss Higley had tiptoed noiselessly from theapartment. Dorothy did not like to leave Tavia--surely it was notanything that might be contagious. But when the teacher returned sheinsisted on Dorothy going directly to the room at the end of the hall,while she took up her post at the bedside of Tavia.
It seemed so hard to Dorothy to leave her friend there alone with acomparative stranger. As she reluctantly closed the door on Tavia andMiss Higley, Dorothy's eyes were filled with tears. What could be thematter? All the joking had turned into reality in that short time!
But Tavia was surely not suffering any pain, thought Dorothy, as sheseemed so sleepy and did not even murmur when Miss Higley gave her thefever medicine. It flashed across Dorothy's mind that it might have beenbetter to have acquainted Miss Higley with the way Tavia's attack cameon--to tell her of the scene before the mirror--but somehow, Dorothy feltthat she should not be told--that it would be easier for Tavia if herstrange actions were not mentioned to any one--even to Tavia herself.Dorothy felt the matter would not be a pleasant one to discuss.
And as no one knew it but Dorothy, she would keep it to herself, unlesssome development in Tavia's illness would make it necessary to give theentire history of the case.
With a head almost bursting, it seemed, from the stress of thecomplication of wo
rry and anxiety, Dorothy finally settled down on MissHigley's cretonne couch, while the teacher tried to make herselfcomfortable in Dorothy's place, and Tavia Travers lay still and heavywith a fever, all unconscious of the changes that were going on abouther.