 CHAPTER 10 APPLE BLOSSOM MAGIC Too long dreary days had passed. Dorothy was well again, but, acting upon the advice of Miss Alice, she remained away from school to grow strong and take a little rest in the fresh air to be out of doors as much as possible, the teacher said. Alice had been to see Dorothy and had assured her that everything was all right. Even the misconduct of Alice in talking back had been forgiven, the girl herself declared. But there was no explanation offered as to the accident to Sarah Ford. That was still a mystery to the school girls. Neither had Tavia returned to Dalton. She was visiting her aunt in Rochester, Mrs. Travers announced. Dr Dale was at his office again, and the boys were not yet home from school, although the dismissal hour had passed. There was a rush through the vines at the side of the porch. The next moment, Tavia had Dorothy in her arms. You poor dear, she exclaimed between her kisses, to think that you had been sick all alone without me. Dorothy leaned back in her chair, happy. Tavia was not so much larger or older than she, but she at that moment she came like one all-powerful. Tavia had such a way of being and doing. And all on my account went on, Tavia. I declare you have gotten thin, and she spanned the bare wrist of Dorothy lovingly. You never wrote, of course, as I asked you to. The lost note, perhaps other important matters, had been overlooked in its disappearance. Is Sarah able to play Leapfrog yet? Went on Tavia fisticiously. I hear Squire Sanders has been inquiring for me, just me, Tavia Travers. Also, my goodness me. If I had only known the worthy Squire wished to hold converse with this, me, you know, I certainly should have postponed my vacation. Who knows what I had missed? Dorothy's face showed how pleased she was. It was so good to hear Tavia rattle on that way. As Ralph Willoughby had said, her heart was right, and so she made few mistakes where love could be counted on as her guide. Tavia was stroking Dorothy's head affectionately. The two girls sat on the rustic bench, Dorothy with her head resting upon the other's shoulder. I made a discovery in Rochester, said Tavia, when she had exhausted every possible point, covering the sickness of her friend, the fainting in school, and all that proceeded and followed that occurrence. Yes, I found out that a woman there who did washing for my aunt is named Burlock, and that she has been deserted by her husband. Has she a daughter, interrupted Dorothy? I don't know about that. Aunt Mary said she was such a strange woman, all the time moving, and no one ever could find out just where her rooms were. The way one had to do, to get her to do the washing, was to apply to the charity bureau. But the bureau must have her address, said Dorothy, much interested in the story. Well, Aunt Mary said they could not keep track of her either. They know she is a good, honest woman, who seems always to be in some trouble, looking for her husband, of course. I made up my mind that the man she is looking for is your friend Miles. Have you seen him lately? No, replied Dorothy, thoughtfully. And I've got more news went on Tavia. Miss Ellis has planned a picnic for Monday. She is going to take our class to Glenhaven Falls. Do get strong and come. If you don't go, I will not. Oh, I'm sure I will be all right by that time. Aunt Ser Dorothy, in fact, I am well now. I am only staying out of school because Miss Ellis thought it best. I wonder, Tavia, how we could ever think her unfair. She is a nicest woman. Why, when she called, she brought me jelly. And one of her splendid roses that she prizes so much. I felt almost guilty to have spoken of her, as I did, about the procession on Memorial Day. Well, she has not brought me jelly or roses yet, replied Tavia. And I hardly think she would, even had I the good fortune to be sick in bed. Yes, I mean it. I would like to see what would happen if I took sick. But no danger. Aunt Mary said she would rather feed two men than give me what I call enough. It is not really enough, you know, but I call it that. And she stretched out on the bench to show how deliciously lazy common health makes a girl. You certainly do your appetite justice, said Dorothy laughing. Aunt Libby says it's one thing to eat and another thing to make your eating towel. Now you make your food, tell. Certainly I do and make it, tell. How loud, too? Away. How much do you think? About 90. 105, declared the girl. I wish you could go away for a week. I am sure you would pick up and get the peaches back in your cheeks. We will go away in vacation time, replied Dorothy. This month will not be long going around. Now I must run back home. I have not had a chance to tell mother a bit of news. You know it was the luckiest thing. Ma wanted me to go to Rochester. And when the fuss came all I had to do was clear out. Ma had been waiting for me to get a new dress. And she was so tickled when I said I would go in my old one. You see, Dorothy, Aunt Mary gives us lots of things. And no one had been out this spring. Nanny, that's my cousin, is just a little larger than I am. And oh, you should see the scrumptious dress I am going to wear to the picnic. It is perfectly glorious. And Tavia wheeled around on her toe, threatening her boasted 105 pounds. Avoid a poem with disaster. With a promise to be back again in the evening, Tavia left Dorothy and hurried across the fields to her home. Things seem to be straightening out, thought Dorothy. Everything is all right at school. Tavia is back. Now, if Sarah would only tell, I have a good mind to run over to see her. It was a warm afternoon and Dorothy had no need to bother with raps. Aunt Libby was at the side porch so that in passing Dorothy called to her, she would be back in a short time. Then she crossed through the orchard, going under the very tree in the shade of which Sarah had been found suffering. Dorothy stopped and looked up into the branches. They were very low. Some of them so low that in fruit time, girls could pick the apples without climbing for them. The blossoms were almost gone. Small sprays lay faded on the grass where careless hands had scattered them. Somehow it seemed to Dorothy that the tree knew all about the accident. If trees could only talk, she thought. Then, picking up a spray at the freshest blossoms, she hurried on. To Dorothy's surprise, Mrs. Ford was very cordial in her welcome. Dorothy had feared the mother of the injured girl might not be so pleased to see her. Walk right in, said Mrs. Ford, opening the door. I am sure it will do Sarah good to talk with you. She is so lonesome and talks in her sleep about the girls, and she led the way to her daughter's room. The girl was now sitting up, her injured foot rested on a cushion chair, while her face still showed signs of suffering. Sarah, dear, begun Dorothy with an infection at embrace. I am so glad to see you up. Are you? asked the other mechanically. Yes, indeed, ignoring her cold manner. We have been so worried about you. We? Who? And Sarah toyed nervously with the coverlet that was thrown over her knees. Why, all of us, the girls at school, we hope you will soon be able to come back. I will never go back. I have all I want of Dalton School, and Sarah tossed her head defiantly. Here is a spray of apple blossoms. I bought them from the orchard. They are so sweet, said Dorothy. I thought they might make you think you are out of doors when you shut your eyes and smell of them. She offered the spray to Sarah, but the girl made no sign of accepting it. Dorothy was disappointed. She did not mind the sick girl being fretful, but she had not expected her to be rude. A rather awkward silence followed. Dorothy had determined, if possible, to reach the heart of this queer girl, but her best efforts seemed unsuccessful. Well, I had better go, said Dorothy at length, still holding the blossoms in her hand and standing beside Sarah's chair. She turned to leave. Goodbye, she said. I hope you will be better soon. But Sarah caught her dress. Oh, Dorothy, do not leave me. She wailed. I am so miserable, so unhappy. Throw the apple blossoms out of the window and come back to me. I need someone. Oh, I feel as if I shall die all alone here. Sobs choked her words, and she seemed struggling for breath. Shall I call your mother? Dorothy asked anxiously. No, no, cried the sick girl. I only want you. Dorothy Dale, help me. You must help me, or I shall die. And again Sarah broke into hysterical sobbing. What is it, Sarah dear? Pleaded Dorothy. Tell me how I can help you. And she bent down closer to the weeping girl. Oh, I do not know. I have. Oh, Dorothy, have you ever tried to injure another? Why, no, dear. And I'm sure you have not either. Oh, but I have indeed, and I cannot bear the pain any longer. I must help someone, you. You will know how to help me. A very sad face looked up into Dorothy's. The brown eyes that had always been thought so proud and haughty, were now begging for help, for pity, and for counsel. Tell me about it, said Dorothy, taking a trembling white hand in her own, which was scarcely more steady. Did they arrest Tabbier? Asked Sarah, the words seeming to choke her in their utterance. Why, no, of course they did not. Dorothy replied, I just left Tabbier a half an hour ago, and she was as lighthearted and happy as ever I have seen her. That little trouble at school did not last long. Oh, I'm so glad, exclaimed Sarah, the thought of it has just haunted me. About the accident, asked Dorothy, trying to help Sarah unburden her mind. Yes, I really did not mean to do so wrong. But when I found you were all gone, and I tried to jump. Yes, of course it was very wrong at Tabbier to send you up so high, just as the bell was going to ring. And Dorothy pressed the other's hand encouragingly. Then when I saw my white dress, all black from the ashes, I ran away. Now do not excite yourself, dear, caution Dorothy, for she saw how Sarah's face had flushed and did not like to hear her raise her voice so. No, it will not hurt me. The pain of it has been killing me ever since. But now it will go with my confession. Hush, whispered Dorothy, your mother is in the hall. Poor mother, answered Sarah, she has tried every way to help me. But I could not tell her. It seemed so terrible. But how did you hurt your ankle? Asked Dorothy bluntly. I fell out of the tree. I did not mean to do it. I was up there hiding from those who passed in the lane, and all at once the awful thought came to me that I could slip and blame it on Tabbier. But I did not mean to do it that way. Oh, Dorothy, had dreadfully I had been punished, and the sick girl fell to weeping again. Never mind, dear, we all do wrong sometimes. No, Dorothy Dale, you never do. I have been jealous of your love for Tabbier. I have loved you from the first moment I saw you, that day helping a poor drunken man to his feet. I said then I would make you love me, but see how I have failed. You will hate me now. No, Sarah dear, you are better a nobler this minute than any other girl in Dalton, for no other likely, has had to make the heroic effort to do right that you have been obliged to go through with. You know the joy there is over one lost lamb when it is returned to the fold. Sarah leaned back and looked up full into Dorothy's face. I knew you would know just what to say to me, she whispered. Dorothy Dale, you are an angel, and the big brown eyes sent out such a look of love, admiration, and at last happiness. It all seemed worse to you, thinking of it here, alone, with no one to say a word to, continued Dorothy, consolingly. And then of course, your father was angry, that only showed how fond he is of you. Yes, it seemed everything helps one to do wrong. I really never accused Tabbier of doing it. Only that time when we came in, and then I was so sick and frightened, I had no idea then that father would take it all in earnest, that he rushed right off. And when I heard Squire Sanders had been at the school, oh, Dorothy, how can I tell you how I felt? But it is all over now, spoke Dorothy suitingly, and I will take care that every girl in school knows the greatest part of the trouble came from a mistake. But I can never go back to that school again. Why, of course you can. I have to make an explanation myself when I go back. You know how hasty Alice is. Well, she got herself in trouble on my account. And I feel I must say something about it. I was too sick then to know just what to say. So now that Tabbier is back, she will have to give an excuse. Then I can say how the whole trouble was more of a mistake than anything else. And how we all really want somewhat to blame. Perhaps one as much as another. End of Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Dorothy Dale, A Girl of Today This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. This reading by Lucy Burgoyne Dorothy Dale, A Girl of Today by Margaret Penrose Chapter 11 A Soldier's Daughter The setting right of Sarah's wrong, a task which Dorothy had so willingly volunteered to perform, was by no means so simple a matter as she had attempted to make it. Skill girls are apt to be fond of excitement, and this bit of trouble brought with it so many interesting experiences. The visit of a real squire, the insurrection of Alice, Dorothy falling ill in the cloakroom, and that particularly novel occurrence, the disappearance of Tavia Trevers. Surely all these features would seem to mark a red letter week on the calendar of interesting events at Dalton School, but that was not to be the end of it. Dorothy intended to make such an explanation to the class that the entire affair would be cleared up without too much blame resting on Sarah. A conference with Tavia held directly after her pathetic interview with Sarah resulted in the former declaring she would shoulder any blame that could be made to fit her. For a girl with a sprained ankle and a bad case of delicate conscience has troubles enough without inviting more, Tavia told Dorothy. Besides, she said further, it really was my fault, for I had determined to get even with her that day, and when I sent her upon the swing I really did not care whether she busted through the clouds or not. I simply sent her flying. So Doro, she concluded, you say whatever you please and I will stand for it. Only be sure not to let Miss Ellis know you are going to make a speech, for she has cut out all speeches except her own. Tavia, Tavia exclaimed Dorothy indignantly, wherever did you hear such common slang? I picked it up with the goods at Aunt Mary's replied Tavia laughing, for she really only made use of the expressions to horrify Dorothy. Now she continued, be all ready for the picnic, we are only to have half a session and then go to the falls. That evening after tea, Dorothy found a much longed for chance to visit her father, talk with him in his own little study upstairs and away from all disturbances. Since her indisposition, the Major had not bothered his daughter with any cares of the house or with the children. Neither had he talked with her about the burlock affair, but now she had something to tell him. Tavia had heard of a woman living in Rochester, of the name Burlock. What if it were the right party, the one so long sought for by Miles Burlock, and would the Major let Dorothy go with Tavia to Rochester and look for them, the poor mother and little nally? Dorothy found her father in his study waiting for her. How well he looked now, she thought, for the old hail and hearty look that which so often characterizes the veteran soldier had returned to his face, making it handsomer than ever because of a lighter shade have settled on his head. He was getting gray, the daughter was quick to notice. You look better, little captain, he said in greeting her. I was just thinking the same thing of you, replied Dorothy, laughing. That was a case of great minds running in similar trenches, said the father. Now we are going to have a good long chat, began Dorothy, leaning against the arm of the Major's chair so that her head touched his shoulder. First I want to tell you some news Tavia has heard of a woman in Rochester named Burlock. Burlock repeated the Major and he looked pained somehow, distressed at the mere mention of the name. I thought perhaps it might be the party you, that is, the woman wanted in Burlock matter, faltered Dorothy. I am afraid, daughter, said the Major very solemnly, you have been bothering your young head about affairs much too grave for you to handle. I have always regretted sending you to the bugle office that morning. So many complications seemed to follow that experiment. Not but what you got out, a splendid paper, better than this week's issue for that matter. The Major hurried to say that he noticed a look of disappointment come over Dorothy's face, but because I seemed to thrust you out into the world, unprotected and even in danger. Major Dale pressed his lips to his daughter's brow. Indeed she had always been his little helper, his one dear, only daughter. Her willingness and ambition to help might have misled him. Sometimes he might have forgotten she was only 14 years old, but now seated there beside him, fussing with his curls, as she insisted his rather long locks were, she was little Dorro again. The baby that had so often climbed on his knee, in that very room, begging for one more story when mother announced bedtime. The mother was gone now, and Dorothy was sitting there. Ah well, beside the Major, trying to hide his thoughts, we must talk as something pleasant. But the burlock affair ventured Dorothy. I thought it would be splendid to think of finding them. I have not seen Mr Burlock in some time. What do you suppose has become of him? Major Dale took Dorothy's hand into his own. Daughter, he said, Miles Burlock has passed away. Dead, gasped Dorothy. Yes, dead. But he was happy, fled to go. Although he left his task unfinished, he had not found his wife and child. What happened to him, Dorothy asked, bewildered at the suddenness of her father's words. He died from exhaustion, as much as from anything else. That man Anderson had sent him word to go to Buffalo for news. Believing the message meant good news, that of locating the wife and child, Burlock went, but not before he had legally made me guardian of the lost daughter, and put in my charge the estate that had lately come directly into his hands through the death of Mrs Douglas. So the poor man managed to settle his affairs before he was called away. He came back to Dalton, sick and discouraged, and determined to put that man Andrew Anderson in jail. But, well, it was not to be. Ralph was with him all day and all night. We did all we could to make it easier for him, and Dorothy, dear, he closed his eyes, blessing you. Dorothy was crying. She tried hard to be brave, but somehow the tears would come, and she had to cry. Their, their daughter, said the major consolingly, I did not want to tell you just yet, that perhaps it is as well now as at any other time. I knew you would be grieved. Of course I am sorry, said Dorothy, but wasn't it splendid that he had reformed? Yes, and I must confess, I was proud to hear a dying man bless your name. He declared that you, a mere child, had saved him from a death of shame. I never knew, Dorothy, until Ralph told me, there at his bedside, that you had worked so hard to help in the crusade work, even speaking to men like Burlock, when they might not have known how to answer you. Oh, indeed, father, she hurried to say. I am sure Mr. Burlock was not intoxicated half the time, others thought he was. He seemed so sad always, and would sit on a bench, just thinking of his child perhaps, when people called him drunk, and the girl's eyes flashed indignantly at the thought. Well, well, daughter, you were right in showing charity. Yes, charity is the love of God and our neighbour, and it was that love that led you to take the hand of that sick and discouraged man. Ralph told me how you brought him into the bugle office that afternoon, and how that was the beginning of a new life to Burlock, that he never tasted strong drink after that day. It was because I was like his own daughter, or he thought I was, that he listened to me, said Dorothy, not wanting to claim all the praise her father so prudently gave. At any rate you have the joy of knowing, daughter, that you helped a fellow creature find the right path, that joy will never leave you. For a few moments the two sat there in silence. Dorothy had been favoured with many opportunities of distinguishing herself, as Tavia would say. But this last, the real joy of helping a man save himself. This, as the Major said, would never leave her. And all this trouble about the Ford girl, inquired the Major presently, has that been settled? Oh yes, indeed it has, answered Dorothy, scarcely knowing what explanation to make. Sarah is very hasty, and of course you know how Tavia loves to tease. But it seems this was no nonsense. Mr. Ford declared he would make Mr. Travers pay the girl's doctor bill. Did he really? I had not heard that. But Tavia was not to blame. Sarah has admitted it was all a misunderstanding. Evidently she has not told her father that, the Major replied, that only this morning he assured me he would give the doctor's bill into the hands of a collector. Oh, that would be too bad. Tavia's folks are so poor. I must see Sarah. Do you have to straighten the matter out also? Well, little captain, I am afraid you have a busy time of it. When one is willing to help others, it is perfectly surprising how much they can find to do. But you see, daddy, someone has to do it. Exactly. I have no objections to you mixing up in skill girl affairs. In fact, I think that line of work quite as important as book learning. It is the best kind of education for its fits one for their place in life. But I think, daughter, it might be best for you to give up helping in the crusade. I would rather not have you risk, perhaps insults in that work. Of course, if you wish it, father, answer Dorothy in a disappointed tone. But if I could just help out in what Ralph had planned for the girls, a sort of auxiliary work, I would like it. The meetings would be held in the afternoon, and we would have little benefit affairs to help defray the expenses of the league. Oh, that sort of thing, agreed the major. That would be all right, and strictly in a girl's line. Everybody should show sympathy with the movement. For it means more to Dalton than we can estimate. Children, particularly, will be benefited, so that there can be no objection to them helping in their own way. Dorothy felt greatly relieved now that her father had spoken on this subject, for she had feared he would ask her to give up entirely the temperance work she had become so interested in. The most prominent women in Dalton were identified with the movement, and with such leaders surely no girl need be afraid to follow. Besides, as Major Dale said, children would be those most benefited. Therefore children should do what they could to help the work along. I am so glad you do not object to the auxiliary, father, she said, as he arose to bid her good night. Of course I shall never meet another Miles Burlock, and therefore I shall not have to make a personal appeal to anyone again. And she looked sadly into her father's face. Do you think we will ever find little Nellie? Yes, daughter, I feel certain we will soon hear something of the heirs of Miles Burlock. But there now, and he kissed her again, run along to bed, your brothers are snoring by this time. Good night, Daddy dear, she said, pressing his cheek lovingly to her own. I never forget that I am the daughter of a soldier, and that thought, more than anything else, earthly, takes care of me, guides me aright, and makes me proud of being Dorothy Dale. End of Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Dorothy Dale, A Girl of Today This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org, this reading by Lucy Burgoyne. Dorothy Dale, A Girl of Today by Margaret Penrose Chapter 12 An Unproved Attack The beautiful month of June was jotting down her days with sweetest floral motos, each in its turn paying tribute to the queen of months. Roses had come, daisies were weaving the fields into a cloth of white and gold, the side roads of Dalton were framed with clouds of snowy dogwood, and that rarest of days, the perfect day in June had come, and this was to be the picnic day for the girls of Dalton school. Tavia was over to Dorothy's house very early, she wanted to borrow a lunchbox, and, incidentally, to hear Dorothy's opinion of the glorious dress from Rochester. Isn't it sweet? She began puriting on the boardwalk at the side door of the Dale house, while waiting for Joe to find an empty cracker box for her lunch. It is pretty, agreed Dorothy, examining the dress critically. Those pink ribbons are so becoming to you. Cousin Nanny had it made for a party, so it ought to do for a picnic, Tavia said. How do you feel today, Dorro? I have been thinking you look sort of peaked, as Aunt Libby would say. Have you been worrying about the explanation business? Because if you feel sensitive about it, just leave it to me. I am not the least bit bashful, you know. I feel well enough, Dorothy assured her, and I haven't been worrying about that anyway, and Dorothy smiled to convince her friend that nothing serious was disturbing her peace of mind. Well, we assemble at nine, you know. Check our dinner pales. Thanks, Joe. That will do nicely, and if I have any left I will leave it in the box when I return it. After a bluff at study, and an exchange of compliments for my dress particularly, no one else will have anything like this. We will expect to hear something from you, Dorro. Really, this business of making speeches in school is quite an accomplishment. Had I known that Alice was going to spout the way she did that day, I left for my vacation. Ah-huh. You noticed, Joe, how I said that? Well, I should have postponed the trip had I any idea there would be such stunts going on in ladylike society. But Dorro, how is Sarah? Did you see her yesterday? Yes, I saw her just for a moment, and Dorothy looked the other way to hide the serious thoughts that the meeting with Sarah recalled. And she has forgiven me for that push into the clouds? Now, she is not so bad after all. I feel as if I should bring her some flowers or something as a peace offering, you know. Well, I would not go over just today, said Dorothy, for the doctor is to take the splints of her ankle. Splints? Was it as bad as that? The poor girl, no wonder she fibbed. I would, too, if I had to stand for splints. Why don't you say, stand splints and not use that horrid slang, corrected Dorothy. But she didn't stand them. She stood for them with the other foot. You see, Dorro, sometimes the much despised slang is the real thing, and with a tantalising swish of her skirts and a most frivolous toss of her head, tabby a call, ta-da, and dashed across the fields with the lunchbox under her arm. She's the kinder girl, commented Joe, who has been busy making a bow and arrow for Roger. If her brother Jack had a little of her spunk, he would not be where he is. Why, asked Dorothy, doesn't Johnny get along well at school? At school, echoed Joe, he is never there to get along at all. I think it is clothes that keeps him home. I was going to ask Aunt Libby if any of mine might be spared. Why, of course, you have some that are too small. I will see about them myself. It is too bad those children have no one to manage for them. What's the matter with their mother? I don't know. That is, of course, they have their mother. But she does not seem to know how to manage. And we have you, and you do seem to know, responded the boy, trying the bow to make sure it would not shoot backwards. Well, sis, you're a brick and Tavia. Well, she is a brick dust, at any rate. But Jack, well, he is Jack. And that is all there is to it. I'm going to ask Father to let him carry bugles next week. What little he could learn would do something for him. Mr. Travers is such a nice man, went on Dorothy. I think Tavia is exactly like him. And Jack is like his mother. But we mustn't backbite, seeing the look of reproach on Dorothy's face. I hope you have a jolly good time at the picnic. One hour later the girls of Dalton School were crowded around Dorothy, asking all kinds of well-meant questions concerning her health. Tavia, too, came in for a share of the queries, although hers did not relate to health but to other interesting little confidences, least of which was, by no means, the new dress. But the fact that her own cousin Nanny gave it to her put Tavia at ease in questions that might otherwise seem impertinent were considered compliments, showing what a stir the dress created. Dorothy looked a trifle pale and the light blue Muslim gown she wore brought out a mere gleam of the pink flush that usually shown in her cheeks. Her blonde curls, the delight of all her friends, fell in a mess about her shoulders so that even Tavia in the famous pink and white dress did not outdo Dorothy in pretty looks. Alice wore a buff linen that suited her, golf-style, admirably. She had the air of the well-trained college girl, the result, perhaps, of annual trips to the seashore, where she was allowed to indulge in boating, swimming, and other manly sports as she termed the exercise. Belle Miller, otherwise known as Tinkle, was as dear and dainty as ever in a creamy white Swiss. And May Eggner wore lavender, although fully conscious of the disastrous effects of picnic sun on that perishable shade. It was a last year's gown, so May decided she might better get a few more turns out of it, and this, she thought, would be one of the rare occasions when a lavender might be worn with impunity. All the girls wore appropriate costumes, and when the classes assembled the room presented a veritable holiday look, studies seen the last thing to be thought of amid such gaiety. Even Miss Alice wore a white collar and cuffs, a relief from her usual somber black, and as she touched the Belle, she smiled pleasantly to her pupils, plainly bidding them a happy holiday. Young ladies, she begun, we will take a brief review of last Friday's work. It is so near closing time we must not waste an entire day. Dorothy felt the time had arrived for her to speak, how she dreaded to mother happy school hour with such unpleasant reminders of past troubles. But she had promised Sarah, moreover, it was due the entire class that the occurrence should be disposed of honorably. Tavia was waiting anxiously. Alice also fidgeted at her books. Finally, Dorothy raised her hand. The motion was not seen at once by Miss Alice, but it is safe to say no other person in the room missed it. A stir of excitement caused the teacher to look up, and she bowed to Dorothy. I am sorry, Miss Alice, began Dorothy with hesitation to refer to anything unpleasant today, but I had promised Sarah forward to make an explanation for her. She, of course, could not come herself. What is it, Dorothy asked the teacher, although she no doubt guessed what the girl wished to say. I just want to state that Sarah did not intend to blame anyone for her accident. She had only cried that it was our fault when she was suffering so, and did not mean that those about her should have taken it up as they did. She wished me to apologize for her, and to say that the whole thing was an accident, the reports as well as the injury. Thank you, said Miss Alice, as Dorothy sat down. I am very glad indeed that the unpleasant happening has been disposed of. Alice was on her feet next. I also want to apologize, Miss Alice. She broke out in her boyish tones, adding, I should not have spoken as I did. When you asked me to be silent, I was rude to do so. A fault atoned for his a lesson learned, commented the teacher, as Alice took her seat. It seemed to the girls the entire session would be given up to apologies and love feasts, but when Tabia arose there was a decided murmur through the room. Fluffy whispered the girl in the very last seat, referring to Tabia's fancy dress. Full bloom said another, meaning that the pink and white dress put the tiger lily as they called Tabia in full bloom. But these remarks had no effect on Tabia. I believe she began bravely, that I was the real cause of the trouble. I did swing Sarah too high. I was angry about Memorial Day, and blamed her for taking Dorothy's place. I am very sorry. At that moment, a man appeared at the door. It was Squire Sanders. In he tramped, his cane beating a formidable march in advance of his steps, and his green black hat kept on his head, making a poor show of his manners in a girl's schoolroom. I just come in to settle up that little matter of the Ford girl, he drilled. I see you've got that wild harem scarim, Travers, girl back again. The matter has been settled, Miss Alice interrupted. Has I? Well, I've not been notified to that effect, and I continue my services until I am officially notified to quit. He announced, bringing his cane down in a full stop. How odious his presence was in the room at that moment. Tabia's face crimson, when he referred to her as a harem scarim, and only a warning look from Dorothy, kept her from replying to his insult. I think, Squire Sanders said Miss Alice, that Mr. and Mrs. Ford are satisfied the affair was an accident. It was a misunderstanding, blaming the pupils. Accident or no accident, that's no account to me. I'm on this case, and I intend to see it through. Mean old thing, said one girl, somewhat above a whisper. He just wants the fine, let's chase him. It was quite evident more than one girl felt like chasing the obnoxious Squire, but he held his ground and continued to punctuate his impolite remarks with that noisy cane. I want to see Octavia Travers at my office, he announced, and I want her to come right along with me now. Squire Sanders, cried Miss Alice, shocked and alarmed. I cannot and will not permit you to take a pupil from this room. Oh, you won't, eh? The Squire looked more unpleasantly than ever. Well, I'd like to see you stop me. Perhaps she would like to give up your job here. There's more after it, and some knows more about the ways of keeping wild girls down than Rachel Alice does too. I would advise you not to interfere with an officer. Come along, Miss Travers. She will not, called out Alice. My father is a town committee man, and I know something about the laws of Dalton. Show us your warrant. This was a surprise to Squire Sanders. He never expected his authority would be questioned, and by a mere schoolgirl. Warren, eh? He sneered. Maybe you would like to come along yourself, since you are so smart. A wild thought flashed through the mind of Alice. What if he should take both her and Tabia to his office? It would be a case of false arrest, and cost the Squire his place in Dalton. Get ready, he called again to Tabia, who now seemed to regard the whole thing as a joke, and was smiling broadly. Don't move a step, called Alice, while Miss Alice looked on helplessly. Now, that settles it. Cryed out the Squire, red with anger. I'll take you too. Come right along here. Alice shot a meaning look at Miss Alice, and stepped out. Come, Tabia, she said. The more the merrier. Girls, we will be back in time for the picnic. And, taking the cue from Alice, Tabia also stepped out, and with her, marched off behind the Squire. End of Chapter 12. Chapter 13. Dorothy Dale, A Girl of Today. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. This reading by Lucy Burgoyne. Dorothy Dale, A Girl of Today by Margaret Penrose. Chapter 13. A Queer Picnic. And that was to be Picnic Day. A queer holiday, indeed, with two girls taken from the classroom, arrested. Yes, that was what it amounted to. In spite of the jolly way Tabia and Alice tripped off, making faces and doing fancy steps back at the Squire. Miss Alice sat at her desk, dazed, and stunned. She could not realise at all, a Squire coming into her room, threatening her with dismissal, and taking two girls off to the common police court for a hearing. She was not a woman given to showing her feelings. But this seemed more than she could bear. Tears came into her eyes, fell upon her books, and then she bowed her head. She had to cry. Dorothy was at her side instantly. Dear Miss Alice, she murmured, Don't take it so seriously. It will be all right. I'm sure those two girls are well able to take care of themselves. And I suspect Alice went more for mischief than for anything. Perhaps I'd better run down to Father's office and tell him about it. He will know exactly what to do. The girls all looked on with sad faces. They had never before seen Miss Alice cry in school. But she raised her head now and seemed better able to control her feelings. I think, Dorothy, she said, it may be better to wait a while. Something may happen to save the girls from really going to his office. We will try to study, and perhaps we may have a picnic yet. But it was a difficult matter to apply minds to books that morning. Too much had happened to be turned readily aside for mere schoolwork. Such whispering had never been permitted before. Although the girls did try to be kind to Miss Alice, she looked so sad and worried. Meanwhile, the two girls, Tavia and Alice, had been having their own experiences. Upon reaching the street, they stepped up alongside the square so that persons in passing thought they were merely walking along to keep the age main company. But Ralph Willoughby was not so easily misled. He was just leaving the bugle office as they came along, and he instantly detected a story. Come on, said Alice, you can be our counsel. We are under arrest. No need, objected the squire. I am well able to attend to this case. But your office is public, answered Ralph, and I guess I'll go along and see what happens. But I say I don't want any interference. And the squire raised his voice. You newspaper scams always get things wrong anyway. Probably because you do not give us a chance to get them right, retorted Ralph. This time we will try to stick to facts. Well, when I'm ready to give them out, you can have them. But not before, insisted the angry squire. But I'm going along, just the same, declared Ralph. As Tavius stepped back to walk with him, so that the squire was obliged to go on with Alice, who really seemed to be enjoying the experience. The office of the Justice of the Peace was a dingy, dirty little place. It had served Dalton for the small needs of a public office for some years. Squire Sanders, of course, collecting a good income for its yearly rental. An old bench was stretched in front of the desk. The girls sunk down on this, making queer faces and comical gestures. My first defence, sighed Alice, with mock sadness. Same here, said Tavius, in similar tone. Since you wish it, said Ralph to Alice, I can act as counsel. You know, I really am studying law, and there is nothing like taking cases for experience. Now, no sky-liking here called out the squire. I want to hear all about that case. Let me see. The case of, I've got it somewhere, and he turned the soil pages of the records over rather roughly, considering they were supposed to belong to the town of Dalton. Tavia was biting her lips. She felt every moment the laugh would get the better of her, and get out on its own accord, but she tried bravely to suppress it. Ralph was whispering to Alice. Evidently, he was pleased with the information she imparted. The he, too, smiled broadly as the squire called. Octavia Travis, step up to the bar. What for? asked Tavia saucily. To swear, take your oath, make your affidavit, called the squire sharply. What's the charge? interrupted Ralph. Salt and battery snapped the squire. Who sown the warrant? questioned Ralph further. See here, young fella, and the squire wrapped his cane vigorously upon the desk. If you don't let me go on with this case, I'll kick you out. Oh, no you won't. I have as much right here as you have, and I intend to see that you do not, in any way, insult the young ladies. You young scamp, yelled the squire, making a dash for Ralph and bringing his cane down squeally on the young man's head, as which Alice and Tavia screamed. A moment later the men were scuffling on the floor. I'll teach you, the squire kept yelling. Let me go, shout at Ralph. Oh, we must get help, screamed Alice. Tavia, run quick to the office next door. The man is crazy. He will kill Ralph. And while Tavia ran to one side at the place, Alice hurried to the other, so that all possible help would be called at once. In a short time the little place was crowded. Some came to aid, and others came to see what was wrong. Alice and Tavia stood by with very white faces. Alice had pulled the squire away from Ralph, and the aged man finally had been subdued. That is, two men had succeeded in keeping him away from Ralph, but not until the young man had been considerably injured. The squire was still sputtering, and those who tried to quiet him had a hard task of it. Every time they would let go of his arms, he would throw them up with new energy, trying to get at Ralph again. Until at last it was found necessary to go to the Constable's desk, get out the only pair of handcuffs in Dalton, and put them on the wrists of the obstreperous official. This, of course, was great fun for the boys who had gathered about, and who had more than one grudge against squire Sanders. Many a time he had chased them off the coasting hill. He had often spoiled a good day swimming, and as for apples, a boy never knew when he was safe to borrow one from any orchard in Dalton. But the tables were turned now, and the boys were glad of it. A taste of his own medicine would do the aged man good, they declared. Not being able to do more than shout and kick, squire Sanders soon gave out and fell back sullenly in a chair near a window. Ralph's head was bleeding. Oh, we must get Ralph to the drugstore in Sister Dallas. Perhaps Dr. Gray will be there. He is hurt, I am sure, and she was almost in tears. For indeed, Ralph looked very much injured. His lip was cut, and girls cannot well stand the sight of blood. Ralph felt quite well able to walk, he declared, and assured the girls, laughingly, that their case and his would now likely come up together in the next term of court. But just as Alice, Tabia, Ralph, and a few sympathising friends were ready to leave the office. Franklin McAllister, president of the Selectmen of Dalton, and father of Alice, stepped into the place. He had heard of the disturbance, and having power to act in any such emergency, he hurried to the scene. Well, he exclaimed, seeing his daughter there, what in the world are you doing here? Oh, I made all the trouble, replied Alice. That is, Tabia and I made it. We were arrested. Arrested, repeated the father, incredulously. Yes, indeed we were, and Mr. Willoughby only stepped in to help us when he got in trouble. Mr. McAllister talked earnestly to Ralph. Plainly both men were of the same opinion. Either Squire Sanders was crazy, or he was too old and incompetent to hold office. What are we going to do with him, Mr. President? Asked one of the men, who had the unpleasant duty of standing by and keeping guard over the Squire. Find him over to keep the peace, replied the President. Squire Sanders, he called, and there at everyone held his or her breath. This is a sad predicament to find an officer in. In fact, the occurrence is a disgrace to the town of Dalton. The Squire shifted uneasily in the chair. He had not spoken coherently since the struggle with Ralph, and was still in an ugly mood. At the same time, he understood who now addressed him, the President of the Board, the man who had authority to bring matters about, so as to deprive him of the offers he had held for years. Stand up, called the President, and the Squire shuffled awkwardly to his feet. What have you to say in this matter? We have a quorum of the Board here present, and we may as well dispose of this case. There is also another count pending against you. How did you come to let that man Anderson slip out of Dalton so easily? Help him out, in fact. Was his money better than that of the people of this town, who for years have been paying you for duties that you have never honestly performed? At the mention of Anderson, Squire Sanders faced turn from red to a deadly ashen. Look out, caution Ralph, aside to the President. He is old, you know, and might drop at any moment. Not a bit of it went on Mr. McAllister. He is too tough for that. Speak up, Sanders. This is your last chance. But the man never moved his lips. Sullen and beaten, he sat there, while Mr. McAllister recounted some of his misdeeds. You have disgraced your office, he declared. But the most outrageous of your offences was that of bringing into this office two innocent schoolgirls, doctoring up a charge against them, trying to force them to acknowledge that they had taken part in an affair that they had absolutely nothing to do with. And all this you do for the poultry fee that goes with each case on your books. Now Sanders, I have spoken to the members of the Board here, President and the verdict in your case is that you leave Dalton inside of 10 days. The penalty for contempt in the matter will be a public trial and no doubt imprisonment. It was a difficult matter to restrain the boy's present. They wanted to cheer, to shout, but were not allowed to do so. Ralph had quite recovered himself now, and so insisted on going along to the drugstore to have his slight wounds dressed if necessary. Two of the select men looked after Sanders, releasing him at the handcuffs, and advising him to make himself scarce around Dalton, until the feeling against him had quieted down some. All the defiance had left him now, he scarcely raised his head as he crept out the back way to his rooms next door. Upon hearing the skill story in full, Mr. McAllister decided to take his daughter and Tavia back to the schoolroom himself and set everything right with Ms. Alice and her pupils. You have had a rough time of it lately, he commented as he and the two girls made their way to the school. But Alice is a brick, declared Tavia, in appreciation of her friend's assistance. She helped us splendidly. Glad to hear it, answered the father. Alice is our tomboy, but she is true blue. Hey, Bob, he said Pat and his daughter affectionately. You knew what I meant about the man Anderson, did you not, Tavia? He went on. That was your special friend, I believe. Oh, I have met him, replied Tavia laughing, but I think now the reason the old squire wanted to get me into this trouble was because he thought it might affect Dorothy Dale, as she is my special friend. Somehow the burlock Anderson affair seemed to be aimed at the Dale's. Oh, yes, no doubt of it, answered Mr. McAllister, but we think we are on the track of settling the matter now. Tavia felt she could scarcely wait to tell all this to Dorothy, for she had been wondering what had become of the Anderson affair. Alice looked proudly up at her father as they neared the school. They may think you have come to take someone else away, she said, laughing. This has been a queer picnic day. Don't worry about that, he answered. You must have an extra good time to make up for your troubles and disappointment. I will see what I can do for you. Alice cast a meaning glance at Tavia. If her father undertook to give Dalton School a treat, it would surely be something worthwhile. Alice was sure. And so, with that bright prospect uppermost in her mind, she led her father into the school room. Ender chapter 13. Chapter 14. Dorothy Dale, a girl of today. This is a LibraVox recording. All LibraVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibraVox.org. This reading by Lucy Burgoyne. Dorothy Dale, a girl of today by Margaret Penrose. Chapter 14. The Secret. It took but a short time for Mr. McAllister to explain everything satisfactorily to Ms. Alice and her pupils. He was a gentleman any daughter might well be proud of. And, indeed, Alice showed a pardonable pride as he stood there smiling and assuring the teacher that, as President of the Selectmen of Dalton, he would promise a holiday to the class that would make up in every way for the disappointment of the morning. When the visitor had departed, Ms. Alice announced she would carry out the intended program as far as the half session was concerned. But, as it was too late to go on the picnic, then the pupils might go home and enjoy themselves as they wished. Tavia and Alice were now regarded as heroines to think they had really been in the court and that they had been witnesses to a fight. As Tavia declared, Squire Sanders' attack on Ralph was nothing more nor less than a common role around fight. Finally, the picnic lunches were disposed of, and Tavia took Dorothy's arm as they walked homeward. She had much to tell Dorothy and knew that no girl would interrupt such apparent confidence as arm in arm indicated. And what do you think, Ms. McAllister said, begun Tavia? That old Squire Sanders let that horrible man get out of Dalton, the man who frightened a soul. Did he? replied Dorothy, absently. And you knew, of course, about poor Miles Burlock. He died when you were sick, so I did not tell you anything about it. Yes, Father told me. What are you thinking of, Doro? You are not listening to me at all. I have so much to think of, answered Dorothy, smiling. I can hardly keep my thoughts in line, but you should have seen Alice. Oh, she just pulled the old Squire by the collar. She didn't wait for a man to come and look at my dress. Isn't it a sight? I might have known there would be an earthquake or a fight when I attempted to wear anything like this. It is too bad, but that is a straight tear. You can easily mend it. But Ralph's eye, that will not down so neatly. I hope that hopeful old Squire never shows his ugly, his mahogany, in Dalton again. Do you think Ralph is much hurt? Dorothy inquired anxiously. Wasn't it disgraceful? Perfectly rambituous, declared Tavia. Although it might have been jolly good fun if Ralph had another fellow in his place, one not quite so careful of the Squire's feelings and features. But you should have seen the Squire with the handcuffs on. Oh, it was better than the play I saw in Rochester. And Tavia relieved her pent-up jollity by tossing into the air the borrowed lunchbox and making passers at it. With queer pranks in imitation of the jugglers she had seen at Rochester. Tavia asked Dorothy, very seriously, do you think you could keep a secret? Keep a secret? Dorothy, darling, dare me. Now, no joking, Tavia. Sister Dorothy, this is a matter of importance. Oh, I just love importance. That was what mostly happened to me and now lost today in the Squire's office. Importance. Well, if you really can't be serious. Oh, but Doro, dear, just try me. I shall weep if you say so. Only pardon, Mamzelle, but do not, if you please, make that weep too long. A few sniffs only, for I have not with me in this fleshling costume see handkerchief, and she made a most ridiculous little French squat further evidence of the Rochester play. I am afraid Tavia, that trip to your Aunt Mary's has affected your head. They say nothing can do so more effectively than certain kinds of plays. Well, the one I saw was a certain kind. Why, last night, Mother nearly had nervous prostration because I was practicing up in my room. I was trying to do a fall, and I did it all right. How foolish you are, Tavia, said Dorothy, slightly frowning. I would not think of such nonsense, if I were you. Yes, it was awfully foolish, for it knocked the ceiling down in the kitchen, just dusting Johnny's pompadour. The escape, however, made Mother happy so that the ceiling did not count. Dorothy gave in. She had to laugh and did laugh so heartily. She was obliged to sit down on the grass to enjoy the tragedy, as Tavia described the stage four and the ceiling drop. But the secret demanded Tavia, making sure her skirt would not be stained before taking her place on the grass beside Dorothy. Yes, I do want to tell you, Aunt Dorothy. Now listen, you know Squire Sanders was particularly anxious that you should stand all the blame for Sarah's accident. Particularly anxious, he was dead set on it. Polite language doesn't fit the case. Tavia, you really are too slingy. It may be all right just for fun in talking to girls, but someday you will be sorry. It will become a habit. Like Jake Schman, taking the Pledge, I saw in yesterday very close to a saloon. Poor Jake, said Dorothy with a sigh, but he does seem to try. To take the Pledge, indeed he does, and I admire his perseverance. That's just the way I tried to avoid slang. I am afraid, Tavia, we will not accomplish much in the way of confidences, if you persist in being ridiculous. And Dorothy made as if to continue on her way home. Sit right down there, Dorothy Dale, insisted Tavia, pulling her friend's skirt, and bringing Dorothy down beside her rather suddenly. I will have to play the villain and demand that secret. Well, it is simply this. I think I see the motive Squire Sanders had in trying to disgrace you. Let me see it quick, snapped Tavia. Didn't your father run against him last year for the office of town Squire? Certainly, said Tavia briefly. And the only reason he did not get the office was because the Squire was so old the men thought at best not to disturb him just then. Right again, answered Tavia. Election time is now almost here. Your father would be up for the office again. Don't you see by bringing trouble to you and your folks, your father would become unpopular? And get left. Yes, be defeated. But he will not. And Tavia's brown eyes danned significantly. The Squire is down and out. And worse yet, he has to run for his money. Now, my own dear dad will have a chance. Oh, Doro, I love politics better than eating. I hope someday soon, while Tavia Travers is still in circulation, the women will vote in Dalton, same as they do in Rochester. They don't just exactly vote in Rochester, but a lot of them talk about it. Now, you must not mention my suspicions, caution Dorothy. For I must speak to Father first. It does not seem fair that the Fords should be blamed for making statements about you that perhaps the Squire put into their heads. Dorothy Dale, you would make a first class lawyer. And when you want a job at it, I will engage you to defend my case. But I do not see how I am to keep all that mumsy. It would be so good to have Father back at a desk again. They say he really was first class justice out in Millville. And he just hates his work now. So little wages. Mum cannot seem to make them go round. Me and Johnny, Johnny mostly gets the knot at the end. It certainly would be splendid to have him get the position. And I'm sure Father will do all he can for him. But I would not mention it to your mother just yet. All right, Doro, I have given you my promise that you have made me so happy. And Tavia hugged Dorothy so enthusiastically that the latter was obliged to beg off. And I'll tell you what, went on Tavia. When Pop gets Squire Sanders place, I, this, me, you know. And she made another wonderful sweeping all around Bower. I will be city clerk. I will keep the books and Dorothy Hill and Dale. If ever your name gets on the books, it shall be promptly eliminated, elucidated, expugated there now. Don't you think I should be in the grad class? I was looking up words with eight in my favorite pastime. And I came across that bunch. I do really think, Tavia, that you would do better at school if you only tried. We cannot always have studies that we are especially interested in. It is like the scales in piano practice. They give us the mechanical work for pretty dances and other brilliant pieces. Well, we have no piano, so I do not have to worry about that. I suppose you will play at the closing exercises. Miss Alice has asked me to, but Tavia, we really must be going. I have promised to go over to Sarah's this afternoon. May I go with you? I just would like to feel that we had talked it all off. You know, I do not want to think Sarah has any hard feelings. Certainly come. I am sure Sarah will be glad to see you. And her mother is very pleasant. Be careful not to tell too much about today's affairs, it might worry Sarah. If I forget myself, you just squint, and I will be as mum as a mummy. So Dorothy and Tavia started off Homewood, arm in arm. Dorothy Dale, A Girl of Today by Margaret Penrose Chapter 15 Dorothy in Politics The news of Squire Sanders downfall spread rapidly throughout Dalton. To the men interested in public affairs it was no surprise, for they had known, of course, of his shortcomings. But there were those in the town who looked upon the disgraceful scene in the office that morning as something too serious for ordinary treatment. It should be brought to the attention of the sheriff, they declared. Among those of that opinion was Mr. Ford, father of Sarah. He was one of the men who felt they had been wronged. Personally, by the Squire, and in reference to this matter, Mr. Ford called upon Major Dale. It was late that afternoon, when Dorothy and Tavia were visiting Sarah, that Mr. Ford arrived at the office of Major Dale. I had been a fool, he told the Major, to listen to such arguments as that man made against mere children. Of course, my daughter was injured, and that angered me. But it was the foolish talk of that old man, which made me think I should have revenge, revenge upon a girl no more guilty than a babe in its cradle. Mr. Ford spoke with much bitterness. Men do not like to make such mistakes, but those of high character are always ready to do what they can to right such wrongs. But there was no real harm done, interrupted the Major. No harm done, to take two innocent girls into that office, and accuse them of. I don't know what, why, Major. It was simply outrageous, and Mr. Ford paced the floor impatiently. It was the lucky thing that my young man, Ralph Willoughby, happened along, although it seemed unlucky enough for him. But I believe he is not injured beyond a cut lip and bruised eye. The old squire seemed to have entirely lost control of himself. This comes from keeping incompetent men in office, just through sentiment. Exactly. They can do more harm than one would imagine. Think how he talked me in to the idea that this poor Travers family should pay my daughter's, Dr. Bill. And I told him to go ahead and collect it. Each time that this thought came to Mr. Ford, it seemed to him more repugnant. First, that he should have blamed Tavia without investigating the matter himself. Next, that he should have allowed a man like Squire Sanders to humbug him. Well said the Major. We now have it in our power to put the right man in the office of justice of the peace. You know John Travers was up for it last year. I do, but he is not of our party. Yet you admit he is the right man. I know of no one better fitted for the office. Then make it the man this time and leave the party aside. Franklin McAllister was in this afternoon. He says the appointment must be made at once, but that your faction in the council will oppose Travers. Your vote can decide the matter. Mr. Ford was silent for a moment. Men think it almost a sacred obligation to stick to their party, especially when that party puts the member in office with the understanding that their interests shall be looked after. It may cost me my place on the board, said Mr. Ford thoughtfully, but that will not affect my family or my pocketbook. Still you have been a good member, interrupted the Major, and we cannot afford to lose you either. But you said Mac, stated my vote, would carry it one way or other. Yes, he has canvassed it. Then Travers shall be the man, and Mr. Ford brought one hand down on the other in a most determined and defiant manner. Strange, said Major Dale, but the children have settled this for us. My little girl Dorothy had the whole thing planned out and talked me over to her way. She is very fond of the Travers girl, you know. The office door opened and Mr. McAllister entered. Hello, he said, cheeringly. Been lobbying, Major. Seemed so. Well, Travers has my vote, Mr. Ford hurried to say. What? Going back on your party, said Mr. McAllister, laughing. Either that or go back on my daughter, commented Mr. Ford. It seems this is the girl's election. The Major could hardly disguise his pride. Dorothy had certainly been busy lately, and every undertaking of hers had met with success. A girl, after all, may be something more than a pretty doll, he thought. But the whole thing is to get them to exert their influence in the right direction. See how Dorothy had helped in the liquoricide, and without sewing her fingertips, thought the Major proudly. And while this caucus was being held in the Major's office, Dorothy was conducting another sort of meeting at the Ford Home. Tavia and Sarah had made up, most affectionately. Sickness sometimes is a powerful teacher, and afforded, in Sarah's case, time to think reasonably, which was plainly what she needed. I always thought the girls disliked me, she told Tavia. That, of course, made me dislike most of them. But I did love Dorothy, she hastened to declare, and I was jealous of her love for you. I don't blame you a bit, answered Tavia, in her direct way. If she should turn, round and fall in love with you, why then, no telling, what might happen? Sarah was now able to walk around with the aid of a cane, and this afternoon she sat out on the porch entertaining her friends. I do hope, said Dorothy, that you will be able to go on the picnic with us, Sarah. Perhaps that, too, will be all the better for being postponed. Only my lunch, said Tavia, melodramatically. I shall never be able to put up another such, and she smacked her lips in remembrance of the good things the borrowed lunchbox had contained. Perhaps, then, I will be able to invite you to take some of mine, said Sarah politely. Mother just loves to do up dainty lunches. Accepted with pleasure, replied Tavia, imitating society manners. Make it enough for yourself, plenty for me, and a little to spare, then we will be sure to come out all right. Mrs. Ford came out to ask the visitors to remain to tea. But they politely declined. She was especially kind in talking to Tavia, and invited her to come again with Dorothy. They say, remarked Dorothy to Tavia, as the girls hurried along the lane, that love scarce is love that does not know the sweetness of forgiving, and it does seem that way, don't you think so? Oh, that was what ailed us all, was it? Not our fault at all, but the fault of some old mildewed poet, that wanted to make good his verses, the sweetness of forgiving, eh? Well, it is better than scrapping, I'll admit, but I wish poets would make up something handier. We went through quite something to find the sweetness. Hurry, whispered Dorothy, I thought I heard something move in the bushes. So did I, admitted Tavia, quickening her pace. It is always so lonely in the lane at night, we should have gone around. Let's run, suggested Tavia. One row a day is enough for me. The bushes stirred suspiciously now, and both gulls were alarmed. They were midway in the lane, and could not gain the road, except by running onto the end of the lonely path. Each side was lined with a thick underbrush, and there was no mistaking it now, someone was stealing along beside them. Taking hold of hands, the gulls ran, as they did the figure of a man darted out in the path after them. Not a word was spoken, all their strength was put into speed, to get to the end of the lane before that man should overtake them. They knew the footing well, although the path was rough, with tree stumps and rocks thrown there from the fields at the side. Suddenly there was an exclamation. Turning quickly, Tavia saw the man's form rolling in the deep grass. He has fallen over the big stump, she said, and has rolled into the thick briars. Hurry now, we will get out all right. And, with renewed courage, the gulls ran on, reaching the end of the lane in full view of houses, before the tramp could possibly overtake them. That was the same fellow, declared Tavia. What in the world does he follow us for? It's all the burlocked business, Dorothy answered. But hurry, we must give the alarm this time. Perhaps they will be able to catch him. Out of breath and very much frightened, the gulls reached the centre of the village, going directly there instead of turning into a side street to go home. Perhaps father is in his office, remarked Dorothy. There's Ralph, said Tavia, as that young man emerged from a doorway. Quicker than it takes to tell it, a searching party was formed. The three men who had been talking politics were still in the major's office, and when told of the gulls' fright, they promptly started out for the lane, picking up more help at every turn. We will get him if we have to burn down the woods, declared the major, deeply incensed at his daughter's peril. And not a gun in the crowd, remarked Mr. McAllister. This is where we need our constable. They had reached the lane now, and it was quite dark. Numbers of men, who had been taking a quiet evening smoke at their own doors, joined in, the rounding up, as Mr. Ford called it. No squire sanders to help him out this time, someone remarked. Then the men scattered, completely surrounding the place where the tramp had been last seen. The only way he could get away from us would be in a balloon, said Mr. McAllister, or an airship spoke up someone else, with heavy clubs and every available weapon to beat down the brush. They started out through the lane on the manhunt. Surely twenty good men should be able to find the one tramp now. But would they? End of Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Dorothy Dale, a girl of today. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. This reading by Lucy Burgoyne. Dorothy Dale, a girl of today, by Margaret Penrose. Chapter 16 The Girl's Habit It was an entirely new experience for Dalton men, searching for a miscreant that spring evening in the lane. But evening wore into nightfall, and no trace of the tramp had been discovered. From either end of the lane the men came together at last, and admitted they had been again outwitted by the slick rascal. Mr. McAllister, in dismissing the party, urged them to be at the town meeting that night, to vote for a constable, and never had the need of such an official being so plainly demonstrated. We must go about tonight, he said, and notify business persons to be on the lookout for a fellow of this description. Of course, if we had a regular constable, we might save ourselves that trouble. To the old politicians of Dalton, those who always voted promptly, but put off paying taxes until the very last notice had been served upon them, the appointment of John Travers to succeed Squire Sanders, came as a surprise. Poor men are not always popular, and the other candidate, Baldwin Blake, was the sort of fellow it was pleasant to me around election times. But John Travers got the office without a dissenting vote in the council, a matter quite as surprising to Mr. Travers as to any man present. Mr. McAllister whispered a sigh to Major Dale when the result of the ballot was made known. Travers does not know what a strong pull our young politicians have. This is a girl's campaign. But when a few hours later, the new Squire told his own girl of the good fortune, Tabia declared Dorothy had managed it all. It was a fact, however regrettable, that Mrs. Travers was not at home to hear the good news. She had gone to see a sick friend that afternoon and had sent word later that she would remain away all night. But Mrs. Travers was probably not as blameable in her home-making delinquencies as it might appear. She simply did not know how to make her home. She belonged to that unfortunately large class of women who have received a so-called education from books, but who have never been trained in either discipline or character, which might give the forbearance necessary in meeting the actual trials of life or in the management of the great American dollar, which might make up in a measure for lack of discipline, when the dollar, like the proverbial charity, must cover a multitude of wants. Mrs. Travers had attended a school where embroidery was the chief number in the curriculum, and mathematics, after decimal fractions, made elective. Hence, it was that the burden of responsibility came so early to Tabia, who was scarcely better able to undertake it than the mother. The unfortunate result of this total lack of management might have discouraged a man less optimistic than John Travers, but he always made allowances, just as he did tonight, when the indifferent wife was not there to share in the family's happy hour. Maybe I can help you with the books, suggested Tabia, when the possible details of the new position were being discussed. Oh, I will have plenty of time to attend to them, daughter, her father replied. The books I want you to attend to are those at school. I want you to make up for lost time. Dalton people will expect more from us now that they are giving us a chance. Dorothy says, I do better than I imagine, replied Tabia. I did not expect to pass. I had been home so much, but if only I could get a conditional and leave when Dorothy does. Ambition had come to Tabia at last. Her father wished her to get through school, and she determined, if such a thing was possible, she would do it. I could study very hard, she told herself, when thinking the matter over very seriously, that night, in her own little cheerless room. Dorothy has all her work done, and I am sure she will help me. And what a surprise it would be to everyone if she really did get conditioned. In the studies, she failed in, and should actually graduate in the general work. What a wonderful thing it was to have something definite to work for. Dorothy and Alice had always felt that way. But until tonight, Tabia had never known the real joy of doing good work with the actual reward in sight. Home life had been dreary indeed. School had been little better. The only bright spot in the misplaced life had been put in by Dorothy Dale. And what a power for good had been the quiet, unobstrusive influence. I owe every single thing to Dorothy. Tabia declared to her own heart that eventful night, and I hope someday I will be able to show her I am not ungrateful. End of Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Dorothy Dale, a girl of today This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. This reading by Lucy Burgoyne. Dorothy Dale, a girl of today by Margaret Penrose Chapter 17 A Girl's Weapon Tabia's plans took shape next morning. There was nothing visionary about them. She did surprise her father with a neat breakfast table, and Johnny surprised himself with a clean linen suit. Nothing succeeds like success, said the father. Pleased and happy that, at last, something had happened to brighten the makeshift home. And when mother comes, Tabia announced, she will find that I have discovered how to keep house, for I have already provided for dinner. Now, Johnny, be careful that you do me credit. Go right straight to school when it's time, and don't, as you value your place in, in my heart, miss a single lesson. Good, said the father, actually taking a tiny rosebud from the clean milk bottle in the centre of the table, and putting it in his buttonhole. Would it be silly for a boy to wear a flower, faulted Johnny? Joe Dale often does. Indeed, every boy in school will know today that pop is the head constable. So why shouldn't you decorate? And the sister put in the fresh linen waste, a bud that exactly matched the one chosen by the squire. Mr. Travis recalled that this was the first morning he could remember, when his two children sat at table with him. They were always busy or sleeping, any place but where they should be at breakfast time. Now I must see Dorothy before school, said Tavia, leaving the table. Johnny, just eat all your toast while I clear up. Then you can bring in fresh water, and some wood to have ready for noon, in case mother should not get home in time to do everything. Mr. Travis was also in a hurry to get down to the green. He had made an appointment to talk with Major Dale, and he did not delay after breakfast. A new world had been discovered by him, the land of prosperity, ambition for his children, and perhaps even contentment for the incompetent little woman who had suffered too, who now might find a way and heart to do what seemed not worthwhile before. But Dorothy had anticipated Tavia's visit, and was at the door before the latter had entirely cleared away the table. Why, exclaimed Dorothy, when her eyes rested on the flowers, you are celebrating? Good reason why, responded Tavia proudly, my dad's a squire. I am so glad, murmured Dorothy, giving Tavia a kiss. Now you will be somebody, won't you? I am already somebody else. You won't know me. Better ask for an introduction, and she walked hortily to the sink with the last of the dishes. Delighted, I'm sure, sympath Dorothy, imitating the society voice. Pray be seated, went on the new Tavia. I'll be disengaged directly. Tavia's happiness was so entirely self-evident, there was no need for her to make formal expression of it to Dorothy. Yet, as she had promised herself to be, just like other girls, Tavia felt the obligation to say something polite. I know, Dorothy, she begun. We owe everything to you, but it has really made a new world for us. And now, you will see how we appreciate it. I am going to get through school, if I can, and perhaps, when we get better off, I may go on with you at school and grow up, like you. Tavia, dear, said Dorothy earnestly, I am sure you will always be my friend, whether you have a fancy education or not. We have learned more than can be taught from books. We have learned to help each other and to understand each other. Yes, I cannot imagine anything ever coming into our lives that would keep us apart. Even distance does not separate minds and hearts. Tavia had finished her work now and surprised Dorothy by neatly washing out the dish towels. Dorothy was ready to go now for it was getting close to the hour for school. I must tell you something in confidence, said she. Father thinks he has a clue to the little burlock girls were abouts. Yes, and I thought the same thing, when what do you suppose? Aunt Mary writes me that the woman, Mrs. Burlock, is dead. Dead? exclaimed Dorothy. Yes, and the society cannot now find her girl. She did have a daughter. But surely in a place like Rochester, they should be able to trace the little girl, Dorothy insisted. They should be, but they were not. Aunt Mary wrote that the charitable society had buried the woman. And when a young lady from the organization went back to the rooms with the little girl, she allowed her to escape. That is, the young lady went out to buy something, and when she came back, the girl was gone. Did she run away? Haven't the least idea? But say, Dorot, we will be late. Sure, Pop, and me putting on airs this morning, quarter of nine. Now, let's see if we can beat last night's record. I'll set the pace. And so saying the girl started off on a run, for it was most desirable that they reach the school a few minutes, at least before the bell rung. Dorothy insisted Tavia should go straight to Miss Alice and tell her how she was so anxious to keep up with her class. You might change your mind, Dorothy remarked laughing. And Tavia, there is nothing like outside help for keeping troublesome resolutions. Guess you're right, said Tavia with a sigh. I may as well clinch it. No slang now, interrupted Dorothy. Graduates, never use slang. Then I've changed my mind already, powdered Tavia. I must have slang or die. Liberty of speech or death, she exclaimed with a dramatic gesture. Come on, pleaded Dorothy, who was really anxious that Tavia should speak to Miss Alice before the classes assemble. To her surprise, Tavia learned from her teacher that she had not so very much to make up and could, no doubt, do it if she tried. You had been doing very well lately, said Miss Alice. And during the days you were away, we had scarcely any new lessons, nothing but review. You were always fair in mathematics when you put your mind to your work. Now, let us see if you cannot surprise everyone by getting all through, not conditioned in anything. Such encouragement was all Tavia needed. She went to work with a will that day. And every time Dorothy glanced over at her, for Dorothy was as anxious for her success as if it were entirely her own affair. She would see Tavia pouring over her book, as if her very life depended upon her accomplishing just so much work, and she was bound she would do it. How quickly the morning passed, it was so different to be busy in school, Tavia thought, so much better than having the hours drag along. At recess Alice hugged her in congratulation. I knew he would get her, she said, referring, of course, to the new position of Mr. Travis, and Father says we girls elected him. I see you are already doing credit to the confidence with which Dalton people have entrusted your family. I am sure Father will give satisfaction, Tavia answered, ignoring the intended compliment for herself. He had a splendid record in Millville. And the picnic, said Alice, have you heard it is really coming off this time, next Monday. Then Sarah will be able to come, remarked Tavia. I am just glad we waited for her. All the girls agreed it would be especially nice to have a genuine reunion, as this would be the last holiday until vacation, and that, of course, would mean a scattering of classmates. It will be a star picnic, declared Alice, as the girls returned to the school room. If nothing else happens, said Dorothy, with apprehension for which she could not account. Why did you say that, asked Tavia. I don't know, but somehow I feel as if something will happen, and Dorothy had sufficient reason, afterward, to remember the premonition.