"you must contrive to help me, nat," urged tavia, when, an hour or so later, she managed to get a word alone with him. "i can never deliberately go off alone on an afternoon like this, when every one is so busy."
"you certainly cannot walk out to ferndale on a day like this," answered nat. "i'll have to take you if you must go. but why don't you wait until next week, when we might get a better chance?"
"oh, i simply can't," sighed tavia. "i feel so mean over the whole thing. and, honestly, i'm so nervous about it. do you suppose that woman has anything to do with—the matter?"
"seems to understand it, at any rate. it won't do any harm to talk with her. i'll manage to get the machine out, and then, all in a flash, you ask if i won't take you, pretending you did not plan it. i don't see any other way out of it."
"oh, nat, you are a dear!" exclaimed tavia in real joy. "but i do hate so to get you into trouble."
"oh, never mind me," replied the youth good-naturedly. "guess i'm big enough to take care of myself. clear off, now, and when you hear three toots you will know that is the signal. i'll get ready under pretense of going into town for something, and it won't take long to get out to ferndale."
tavia ran back to where dorothy and mrs. white were busy putting bows of bright ribbon on gifts, and sealing up parcels with the merry christmas stamps. her cheeks were blazing and her eyes dancing from pent-up nervous strain. she grew more nervous each moment. surely dorothy would notice it, she thought. and then, too, dorothy had told her miss brooks had asked to see her on thursday. would she remember that now?
tavia picked up the unfinished darning bag, but her fingers trembled so she could scarcely thread her needle. mrs. white glanced up from her work.
"you have had a lot of trouble with that bag, tavia, dear," she said, "i guess you don't like lining things."
"oh, i don't mind it at all," stammered tavia, "but, you see, i have had no practice. i'll know how better next time."
she fancied she heard nat coming along the drive. yes, surely that was the machine. she waited for the toots. her thimble rolled to the floor. then her thread tangled.
toot! toot! toot!
"are the boys going out?" asked dorothy suddenly.
"i didn't think so," replied mrs. white.
"oh, i have to go on an errand!" exclaimed tavia, as if she had just thought of it. "perhaps nat will take me. i have a package i have to mail."
she was down the stairs before either dorothy or mrs. white had a chance to speak. they looked at each other questioningly.
"nat! nat!" called tavia from the front door. "take me! wait a moment!"
she had her things on and was out instantly.
"oh, i'm just scared to death!" she exclaimed as she climbed into the seat beside nat. "good-by!" she called up to the window. and then they were off.
"neat little job," exclaimed nat. "didn't they ask you where?"
"i didn't give them a chance. i just stammered something about a package at the post-office. but, nat, it is such mean work! i can't bear to deceive dorothy!" and tavia felt dangerously like crying.
"and do you fool yourself that you are deceiving her?" asked the cousin. "i'll bet she comes pretty near guessing it all, and for my part i cannot see why you do not up and tell her. it is no great crime to——"
"oh, please, don't, nat!" begged the girl. "it's bad enough, goodness knows, but don't let's go over it again."
"the griswold is quite a swell place," remarked nat. "she must either have money, or make money, to put up there."
"and i feel that she put that ring in dorothy's bag. oh, perhaps she is only trying to get me into some other trouble."
"well, don't get," advised nat. "i'll be outside within call, and if you get suspicious just raise your finger and i'll be johnnie on the spot."
the griswold was a large, stone building, originally intended to be used as a handsome private residence, but of late years converted into a rest-resort or sanitarium. tavia mounted the broad steps timidly and touched the old-fashioned knocker. in a moment a butler appeared and took her card for miss brooks, while tavia waited in the spacious reception-room. she noticed that this apartment was almost overcrowded with gilt-framed pictures, some paintings, others evidently family portraits.
presently miss brooks entered. she wore a simple, close-fitting black gown, and tavia felt instinctively that this little woman possessed a powerful personality. she was even inclined to fear her, although this sentiment might be a matter of nervous excitement rather than the result of well-founded antipathy.
tavia noticed she was not poorly dressed—she looked very different now; the woman in black on the train had presented such a distressed, worn-out appearance.
"come right up to my room," said miss brooks pleasantly. "i received your note, and have been expecting you."
tavia smiled and murmured something as she followed miss brooks up the soft, carpeted stairs. at the first landing the woman opened a door, and motioned tavia to step in. the room was large and well-furnished after the regulation boarding-house plan—dressing-table, desk, couch-bed, and curtained bookcase, but no article of furniture indicated any line of business that might be carried on in the room, tavia observed.
miss brooks closed the door gently, but made sure it was well closed. then she took a chair directly opposite tavia.
"you are miss travers," she began in a most business-like way.
"yes," replied tavia simply.
"well, i asked you to come, miss travers, because i felt i could help you. i make few friends—the world played me false long ago—but when i see a young girl like you in danger, i am not too bitter to warn her."
"thank you," tavia managed to utter.
"you no doubt think me a strange woman—every one does—but i have a motive in traveling about. i had a very dear sister whom i lost years ago. lately i have learned that she died in this section of the country. she left a child—a baby girl—and i hope some day i may find that child." miss brooks paused to cover her eyes with her slim hand. tavia noticed that her hands were white and shapely. after a moment's hesitation miss brooks continued in the same business-like voice she had at first assumed.
"as i have said, i think i can help you." she crossed to the dressing-table, opened a drawer and took from it a large envelope. from this envelope she unfolded a sheet of closely typewritten paper. this she showed to tavia.
"is that your signature?" she asked, pointing to the name signed to the letter.
"why, yes," stammered tavia, startled and surprised.
"you are astonished that i should have your letter," said the woman. "but so-called confidential correspondence travels many miles these days. i address letters and do penwork for business firms, and have received your letter among hundreds of others."
a flash of indignation crossed tavia's face. she wanted to snatch that letter and tear it into a thousand pieces.
but miss brooks was quick to discern her indignation.
"of course, i am responsible for every letter," she said. "in fact, i run a great risk in even showing this to you. but i felt i would have to make sure—that you were the party—involved."
tavia felt like a culprit.
involved!
she sighed heavily as miss brooks fumbled with the telltale letter.
"you lost five dollars?" asked miss brooks.
"yes. five of my own, and ten of a—friend's."
"oh!" and the woman's eyebrows went up in surprise. "yes, i see. nathaniel white," and she ran her fingers through a package of coupons. "of course, he belongs here. he is one of the gentlemen from the cedars?"
"yes," stammered tavia, feeling as if her cheeks would ignite if something did not promptly relieve the tension.
"strange, i had overlooked that. i thought you were the only party about here whose name i had received. is he the young man outside?"
"yes—but i would rather not bring him in," tavia said. "he knows, of course, the money is lost, but——"
"i had not the slightest intention of speaking to him, child. in fact, it would not do for me to make known my business to the patrons of this house. you see, i came here, as i was told this was one of the oldest-established sanitariums in the state, and i hoped, in a vague way, to hear something of my poor sister marie."
tavia was silent. she felt instantly relieved at the idea that nat would not hear all miss brooks might choose to say.
"the only way i might be of service to you," said miss brooks, as she folded up the letter, "would be by giving you some advice. you see, i cannot betray a firm i am employed by. but the method i would advise you to follow is being used every day by—victims. it is merely a matter of threatening to expose the scheme—they know the business is unlawful."
"oh, i could never do that!" exclaimed tavia. "my father is so well known; he is a squire, you know."
"all the more reason why they would pay attention to your letter," argued miss brooks. "but, of course, if you feel that way about it, all i can say is that you know how easily a young girl may be deceived, and, in the future, avoid such alluring promises. you could never expect any return from that sort of advertising."
tavia was on her feet to go. she was disappointed. she felt the advice painfully unnecessary. in making mistakes she boasted of the faculty of always finding a new one—she never was known to repeat a downright error.
"i am very much obliged," she faltered, "and would do as you ask, but i am afraid to write any more letters."
miss brooks smiled. "i shall drop you a line," she offered, "if i find any other way of assisting you."
tavia thanked her again, made her way down the stairs, and, with a sigh of relief, climbed up beside nat in the car awaiting her.
"what did she say?" asked nat impatiently.
"oh, let me get my breath," begged tavia. "i don't know what she did say, except she wanted me to write a letter and threaten to expose it—as if i could do that!"
"why couldn't you?" asked nat pointedly.
"oh, i am just sick of it all," replied tavia helplessly. "i want to drop it. i see no good in keeping it up now."
"well, tavia," said nat not unkindly, but with more determination than it was usual for him to show, "i don't believe in letting money go as easily as all that, and if there is any possibility of us recovering it, it is 'up to us' to try. you know i am no 'knocker,' but i would rather have my 'tenner' than that slip of baby-blue paper."
tavia did not answer. she was beginning to feel the consequences of her error. she never could stand being thus obligated to nat—and she a guest at his house! her humiliation was crushing. nat had never spoken to her that way before.
the ride home was made with little conversation. tavia was planning; nat was evidently thinking very seriously about something—something he could not care to discuss.
all the christmas preparations had lost interest for tavia now, and when, that afternoon, dorothy and mrs. white went on with their work of love, she sat up in her own room writing and re-writing a letter. finally it read:
"dear old mumsey: i hope you have received your pin, and that you have carefully hidden away johnnie's steam engine. i know he will be delighted with it. now, mumsey, dear, i have a great favor to ask. could you possibly let me have five dollars more? i will send it back before my holiday is over, because i only want to lend it to some one, and i am sure to get it back. but, you see, no one has ever asked such a favor of me before, and i do wish i could accommodate them. don't say anything to dad about it, but just send it along if you possibly can, and i will surely send it back very soon. i am having a lovely time, but feel i ought to be home with you all for my real christmas.
"lovingly, your daughter,
"octavia."
"there," she finished, "i guess that will do. i do hate to bother poor, darling, little hard-working mother, but what can i do? perhaps i will be home for christmas, too."
then she wrote another letter—to her father. she made the same request, couched in different terms. perhaps they would each send the money, and then she could pay nat.
