A GIRL'S WEAPON
Tavia's plans took shape next morning--there was nothing visionary
about them. She did surprise her father with a neat breakfast table,
and Johnnie 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 make-shift home.
"And when mother comes," Tavia announced, "she will find that I have
discovered how to keep house, for I have already provided for dinner.
Now Johnnie, 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 center of the table, and putting it in his
buttonhole.
"Would it be silly for a boy to wear a flower?" faltered Johnnie, "Joe
Dale often does."
"Indeed every boy in school will know to-day that pop is the 'head
constable' so why shouldn't you decorate?" and the sister put in the
fresh linen waist a bud that exactly matched the one chosen by the
squire.
Mr. Travers 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.
"Johnnie, 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. Travers 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, and who now might
find a way and heart to do what seemed not worth while 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 haughtily to the sink with the last of
the dishes.
"Delighted, I'm sure!" simpered 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 began, "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 clew to the little Burlock girl's whereabouts."
"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 a
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, Doro, 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
girls started off on a run, for it was most desirable that they reach
the school a few minutes, at least, before the bell rang.
Dorothy insisted Tavia should go straight to Miss Ellis 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," pouted 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 Ellis before the classes assembled.
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 have been doing very well lately," said Miss Ellis, "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 "poring" 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 it," she said, referring, of course, to the new
position of Mr. Travers, "and father says we girls elected him. I see
you are already doing credit to the confidence with which Dalton people
have intrusted 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.