one miserable day dorothy found all her friends, at least those who had claimed to be her friends, suddenly lost to her. those who were not openly rude enough to deliberately turn their backs upon the astonished girl, made some pretense of avoiding conversation with her.
it all came so unexpectedly, and without any apparent explanation, that dorothy was stunned—even the effervescent edna only gave her a measured smile and walked down the hall to the study room without breaking her silence.
the day wore on like a dream of awful fancies that try to choke but withhold even such a mercy as a final stroke.
what had she done? where was rose-mary? and why would not someone come and accuse her outright, that she might at least know the charge against her—a charge serious enough to spread in one day throughout glenwood school!
evening fell, but even then rose-mary did not come to dorothy's room. on the following day there was to be a rehearsal for the play, and how could lalia repeat her lines? how could dorothy pretend to be the happy little pilgrim who starts alone on the uncertain path of life?
mrs. pangborn was ready in the recreation hall, some of the others were there discussing their characters and other things. the hour for the rehearsal came, and with it appeared some twenty girls, among them, but not their leader (so it seemed) being viola green.
they approached mrs. pangborn and then adele thomas spoke.
"mrs. pangborn," she began with flushed cheeks, "we have come to say that we cannot take part in the play unless another girl is selected for the character of lalia."
"why!" demanded the astonished principal. "what does this mean!" and she too flushed at the very idea of her pupils' insurrection.
"because—" faltered the spokeswoman, "we do not like her. she has pretended to be what she is not, and never will be."
this was a bold speech. dorothy dale paled to the lips.
"hush this instant!" ordered the surprised mrs. pangborn. "let no one dare make such an assertion. if anything is wrong my office is the place to settle it. leave the hall instantly. i shall send for you when i desire to make an investigation."
mrs. pangborn placed her hand tenderly on dorothy's shoulder as she passed out.
"do not worry, dear," she whispered. "this is some nonsense those girls with the new club idea have originated. it will be all right."
but dorothy flew to her room and alone she cried—cried as if her heart would break! if only tavia had not left her! if rose-mary would only come to her! where was rose-mary? she had not even appeared at class that day. but, after all, what did it matter? perhaps she too—no, dorothy could not believe that. rose-mary would never condemn her unheard.
how long dorothy lay there sobbing out her grief on the little white bed, she did not know. dusk came and the supper hour, but she made no attempt to leave the room. a maid had been sent to her with some toast and tea, and a line from dear miss crane, but dorothy was utterly unable to do more than murmur a word of thanks to be repeated to the thoughtful teacher.
when it grew so dark that the window shadows no longer tried to cheer her with their antics, dorothy was startled by a sudden tap at her door, and, the next moment, rose-mary had her in her warm, loving arms.
"what is it?" demanded the older girl at once. "tell me about it. what have they said to you?"
"oh, rose-mary," sobbed dorothy, bursting into fresh tears, "why did you leave me all alone?"
"why, i did not leave you! i had to go into rainsville early this morning, and have just this very minute gotten back. mrs. pangborn knew i would be late and sent james with the cart to meet me."
"oh, i did not know you were out of school," and the explanation afforded dorothy at least one ray of relief.
"didn't nita tell you? i asked her to do so at study hour."
"not a girl has spoken to me all day!" declared the weeping one. "oh, rose-mary, what do you think it is all about?"
"i cannot find out. they seem determined not to let me know. i thought you could tell me."
"i haven't the slightest idea. if only ned or dick would tell you then i might have a chance—"
"i'll never sleep until i find out!" declared rose-mary. "the idea!" and her brown eyes flashed indignantly. "i never heard of such a thing! you poor little dear!" and she held dorothy to her in an unmistakable embrace.
"if tavia were here—"
"yes, she would settle it soon enough—with her fists if necessary. and i do believe that such work deserves just such treatment. but i will do all i can for you, and perhaps our vengeance will be just as sure if not so swift!"
"it seems strange that all the girls should take the same view of it," reflected dorothy. "i should think some of them would speak to me about it."
"no good to try guessing at such a thing," said rose-mary, wisely. "and now do eat up that toast. who sent it?"
"miss crane."
"the dear! i hold camille crane the guardian angel of glenwood. but eat her toast. there, take this sip of tea, or shall i light the lamp under it?"
"i like it cold," said dorothy, whose lips were quite feverish. "i will take the toast—i feel so much better since i have you back."
"but if i am to see dick and ned i must be about it," spoke rose-mary, consulting her watch. "just go to sleep and don't worry a single bit. i'll tell you all about it to-morrow," and, with a hearty kiss, the sweet girl was gone.
as if events conspired to keep dorothy worrying, it was announced the next morning that mrs. pangborn had been called to boston and this meant, of course, that the investigation would have to wait for her return.
neither was rose-mary successful in gaining the desired information. molly had not heard all about it, neither had edna, so they said, but they did admit they had promised not to tell either rose or dorothy, for that would mean trouble for the tale bearer.
"it's something about dalton," said edna, really anxious to tell rose, but feeling she must keep her promise, as the matter had assumed such an importance.
molly declared that amy grant had told her it was about dorothy and tavia being in some awful scrape and that they had been arrested for it.
this seemed so ridiculous that rose-mary did not for a moment credit it with being the story that caused the trouble. she would not insult dorothy with a hint of that silly gossip, and, if those girls were foolish enough, she decided, to believe in any such nonsense, why, let them go right on, they must learn their own lesson. so it happened that dorothy did not get the hint—that which would have been enough to afford her the opportunity of making an explanation. but edna did speak pleasantly to her after rose-mary's talk, and molly actually apologized.
mrs. pangborn had been away two days, then a week had passed since the promise of an investigation, and mrs. pangborn was not at school yet. the girls in viola's club (they still regarded themselves as being in it, although the forbidden meetings were suspended), left rose-mary, dorothy, molly and edna entirely to themselves.
"dick" and "ned" were charged with telling the story to rose-mary, although they stoutly denied the allegation. but adele thomas suspected them, they had always been such friends of the dalton girls, it seemed best to the "rebs" to keep them out of further affairs of the kind—they should hear no more of the secrets against the despised dorothy.
even the play was at a standstill, nothing but lessons and sadness seemed dorothy's share at glenwood now. if only mrs. pangborn would come and give her a chance to speak for herself, she would write home immediately and ask to go back to her dear "daddy," to thoughtful, brave little joe, and to dear, darling, baby roger.
yes, and aunt libby would love her so—it would be so good to have all love again! and they were all at north birchland, with aunt winnie. every letter brought good news of the happy home established there since dorothy left for glenwood.
"i will ask to go home next week," sobbed dorothy, "whether mrs. pangborn comes back or not. i simply cannot stand this—i feel like—oh, i feel like i did when i stepped out of that awful police patrol."
