Dorothy Dale: A Girl of To-Day

by Margaret Penrose

  CHAPTER XXII

  THE PRICE OF TAVIA'S TRESSES

  A week had passed at North Birchland, with Dorothy and Tavia enjoyingevery succeeding hour better than the last, when the expected lawyersarrived to interview the victim of the railroad fire.

  Fortunately Mrs. White was at home, and more fortunately still was thearrival of Mr. French with the strange lawyer.

  Tavia was flushed and nervous when Dorothy helped her to dress for theinterview.

  "Now don't you mind it a bit," said Dorothy. "Just keep thinking thatyou might have been very seriously injured, and that the railroadpeople should be more careful for the sake of others. Then you willforget all about the lawyers and their statements."

  Mrs. White was talking to the men in the reception room. Certainly theshock had been severe, she said, and only the fact that Miss Traverswas unusually lively in temperament had saved her from more seriousresults.

  Dorothy entered the room with Tavia.

  "These are the young ladies," said Mr. French, introducing them. "Thisone was shut in the room with the fire."

  Tavia felt her face flush, and her nerves throb painfully. It was soembarassing to be the object of such scrutiny.

  Then began a fire of questions, Mr. French in every instance indicatinghow Tavia should answer. The railroad lawyer, Mr. Banks, trying ofcourse, to trip Tavia into admitting that the lamp exploded first, andthe bottle blew up after. But Tavia was positive in declaring that theblaze came from the far corner of the room, whereas the stove wasdirectly at her side. This was also indicated by a map which Mr. Frenchproduced, and upon which Tavia marked the various spots where the benchstood, where the marble slab with the stove was situated, and where thebottle appeared to come from--a far corner of the slab.

  "Will you let down your hair, please," said Mr. French, and Dorothypromptly drew the pins from Tavia's tresses, allowing the unscorchedbraid to fall below her waist, while the burnt ends were charred almostto her neck, the red scar showing how close to her head the flames hadreally crept.

  "That is a loss, of course," said Mr. French, taking the long waves inhis hand, "but it shows the great danger her life was in. Also, Mr.Banks, notice this scar. That was dressed on the train by Dr. Brown, ofFairview."

  Both lawyers examined the scar. Tavia felt as if she would run from theroom, the very moment they took their hands off her, but Dorothy smiledencouragingly, and Mrs. White rang for a maid to fetch a glass ofwater. This had the effect of distracting Tavia, who now stood therebeing cross-examined like an expert witness.

  Finally Mr. French said:

  "That will do, thank you."

  Tavia had barely tasted the water, and as she crossed the room to reachher chair, she felt dizzy. The next moment she was in Mrs. White'sarms, unconscious.

  "I saw she was pale," exclaimed the lady, while the gentlemen openedthe windows and Dorothy ran for some restoratives. "But I did not thinkshe would go off like that."

  It did not take long, however, to revive the fainting girl, and whenshe had been helped to her room the lawyers held a conference with Mrs.White and then left the Cedars.

  "Wasn't that dreadfully stupid!" sighed Tavia, as she lay stretched outon the soft, white bed.

  "Not at all, my dear," replied Mrs. White, who at that moment appearedat the door. "You could not have done better had you been coached, forit shows how the shock has unnerved you. And you may as well know thatthe company has offered to settle for five hundred dollars."

  "Five hundred dollars!" echoed Tavia.

  "Yes, my dear. For my part I should count a braid of hair such as youlost worth twice that sum, but even at that price I could not obtainit. No one ever values a fine head of hair until it is gone--like thedry well, you know. But you are young enough to grow another braid, andthat is the beauty of it. Mr. French said your father gave him fullpower to act, and so he will accept the company's offer. And the finething about it is he does not want a commission--only his expenses,which are nominal."

  "Isn't that perfectly splendid!" exclaimed Dorothy, throwing her armsabout Tavia.

  "Some people are born lucky, and others have luck thrust upon them,"said Tavia pleasantly. "In this case it was as usual. I did themischief and Dorothy did the rest. That lawyer would never have noticedme if Dorothy hadn't shown her pluck--why, she had my flaming hairwrapped up in a brakeman's coat before he had decided whether to throwit out of the window or over the ice cooler. He seemed to be worriedabout the ice, for it was directly in the path of the fire."

  "Nonsense," said Dorothy, blushing. "He very politely pulled off hiscoat when I asked him to, and of course, he did not know just what todo with it."

  "Lucky thing it was a railroad coat," went on Tavia, "or we might havehad to pay damages."

  "Lucky thing Dorothy had such presence of mind, at any rate," remarkedMrs. White, "for another touch of that flame and your face, Tavia,might have had a different bill against the railroad company. However,as it ends like a love story, we will live happily ever after," and shegave Tavia such an affectionate kiss, that the girl felt a strangenearness to her new-found friend as if she had been suddenly adopted,socially at least, into Dorothy's family.

  "And now, my dears," went on their hostess, "I expect the boys out fromcamp this afternoon, so you must rest up, and look your prettiest."

  Tavia sat up and looked about her.

  "Did you ever hear that story about why a widower was like a baby?" sheasked Dorothy. "Well, I feel just like him. They say he cried for thefirst six months, then sat up and looked around and it was hard to pullhim through the second summer. Now I am looking around, but when I getmy five hundred I am afraid I will hardly last through the secondsummer."

  "I know you will like the boys," remarked Dorothy.

  "But who will cut my poor old hair?" sang Tavia to the meerschaum pipetune.

  "We will have to put it up in the folded fire escape fashion," saidDorothy, "until we can drive out to a barber's. It is too late thisafternoon."

  "Whatever will momsey say?" thought Tavia aloud.

  "That you would have made a very good-looking boy," replied Dorothy. "Iam sure I never saw a girl to whom short hair was so becoming."

  "It must look well with a five hundred-dollar note for a background. Itell you, Doro, money covers a multitude of crimes. I wonder if littleLily of the fire room has cooled off yet."

  "But you haven't seen the new clothes auntie had brought us--yes us,for she has not forgotten you. You are well able to pay bills now, youknow," and Dorothy gave a mischievous little tug at Tavia's elbow. "Butwait, wait till you see what you are to wear this very evening. The boxhas just come up, and I will open it."

  Whereupon Dorothy pulled in from the hall door a great purple boxlabeled "robes." Tavia was on her knees beside it before Dorothy had achance to untie the strings. What girl does not like to see brand, new,pretty dresses come out of their original box?

  Layers of tissue paper were first unwrapped, then a glow of brilliantred shown through the last covering.

  "Whew!" exclaimed Tavia, "a rainbow gown, I'll bet. Then she gave herusual text, as Dorothy called her spontaneous rhymes:

  "Breathes there a girl with soul so dead, Who never to herself has said, I love to wear a dress bright red!"

  "And I love red better than butter, and I love butter better than icecream--so there! Dorothy Dale, that dress on top I claim."

  The "bright red" was in full view now, and it was really a beautifulgown. Not extravagantly so, but as Dorothy said "exquisitely so."

  The material was of dimity, over muslin, and tiny rows of "val." laceformed a yoke and edgings. A broad sash of flowered ribbon--all inshades of red, with bows of the same in narrow width finished theshoulders.

  "Yes, it is for you," said Dorothy, "Auntie said red would suit you."

  "I have always loved it, but folks said my hair was red."

  "Indeed it never was. And don't you know how great dressmakers insistupon sandy haired girls we
aring red? The real red in material contrastswith hair red, so as to make the brown red browner. There now, is a newpuzzle. When is brown red?"

  "When a sassy boy calls it red," promptly answered Tavia, rememberinghow she always feared the "red-head" epithet.

  "Isn't it sweet?" exclaimed Dorothy, holding the new gown up forinspection.

  "Oh, a perfect love!" declared Tavia. "I thought my Rochestercreation--doesn't that sound well--simply 'gloriotious,' but this isbeatific!"

  "Like a sunset," suggested Dorothy. "But I must get acquainted withmine."

  Another layer of paper and a pale blue robe was extracted.

  "Oh, I know," cried Tavia, clapping her hands like a delighted child,"It's morning and evening. I'm sunrise and you are evening. Or I'msunset and you are evening."

  "Oh!" exclaimed Dorothy, too enraptured to say more.

  "And with your yellow head you will look like an angel."

  "Now, see here, Miss Sunset and Sunrise, I don't mind being cloudy oreven starry, nor yet heavenly, but don't you dare go one latitude orlongitude further. I am mortally afraid Aunt Winnie has elected to wearamethyst this very evening, and when the combination gets together Iexpect something will happen--something like Mt. Pelee, you know."

  "We might call it our elementary evening," went on Tavia, "and thenlook out for storms. You said the boys were coming?"

  "Coming!" and Dorothy sprang to the door. "They are here now. Listen tothat shout? That's Ned. Oh, I must run down. Come along," and beforeTavia had a chance to "collect her manners" she was bowing afterDorothy's profuse introduction.

  "I've heard of Miss Travers," said Edward pleasantly, while Nat was"weighing" Dorothy with one hand, and attempting to shake the other inTavia's direction.

  "You must call her Tavia," insisted Dorothy, getting away from Ned, "orif you prefer you may call her Octavia--she has a birthday within theoctave of Christmas."

  "Should have been called Yule, for yule-tide," said Nat. "Not too lateyet, is it Tavia?"

  Mrs. White was smiling at the good times "her children" had alreadymade for themselves. She now insisted upon calling Dorothy daughter andshe was so kind to Tavia that she made no distinction but said"daughters" in addressing both.

  "Just see, boys," said their mother, unpinning Tavia's now famous halfhead of hair, "that is all there is left."

  "Never!" exclaimed Nat, handling the braid gingerly. "How much did yousettle for?"

  "That would be telling," said Mrs. White, "but what I want you boys todo is to drive the girls down to your barber's. You said it was a verynice place."

  "Tip-top," interrupted Ned. "Bay rum or old rum or anything else fromoyster cocktail to Castile soap."

  "But have you seen ladies go there?" asked the mother.

  "Took 'em there myself," insisted the younger boy. "Don't you rememberthe day Daisy Bliss got burrs in her hair? Of course I did not put themthere--"

  "Oh, no!" drawled Ned.

  "Well, she always was a dub at ducking," went on the other, "but I putup for the hair cut all the same."

  "Now do listen, boys," and the mother spoke firmly. "Tavia must haveher hair trimmed. I tried to get a hair-dresser to come out here, butwe could not have it done until after the railroad man appraised it. Sonow the hair-dresser could not get here until after Sunday. That is whyI am having recourse to a barber."

  "Couldn't do better, mother," spoke up Ned, who had been trying to geta word in with Dorothy "on the other side."

  "Then run along, girls, get your things. Don't dress up; it is countryall the way, and the dinner folks are not out yet. It will bepleasanter to fix up after the operation," said Mrs. White.

  "But I say, momsey," called Nat after her as she went upstairs, "youwouldn't suggest a 'Riley,' would you?"

  "Nathaniel White, if you dare get that girl's hair cut in any but themost lady-like fashion I'll--disinherit you!"

  "Shadows of the poorhouse! Don't! I'll make the fellow trim it with abutter knife. Come along, children. I'll show you the newest inchaperonage at Mike's!"

  Both girls appeared on the veranda to which the depot cart had beendrawn up. Dorothy looked like a pond lily, Tavia had told her, in herlight green dress with her yellow hair falling over it. Tavia too wasattractive, she had on a brown dress with gold in it that reflected theglint of her hair, and, as Ned handed Nat the reins he whispered: "Astunner and a hummer."

  "It's real jolly to have a girl around," Nat remarked to Tavia, who hadthe front seat beside him, "and mother is so fond of girls--I havealways worn my hair long to please her."

  "Quite a protection in summer, isn't it?" asked Tavia, noticing how thesunburn stopped where the hair began, and that otherwise the young manwas much tanned.

  "Yes, some. But a fellow can't expect to be a peachblow at Camp HardTack."

  "It must be a great sport to camp," ventured Tavia.

  "The greatest ever! I would like to go out on a ranch but mother says'no, little boy, you must stay home,' so home I stay."

  Dorothy and Ned were evidently enjoying themselves as well as those atfront, for, it seemed to Tavia that Dorothy's laugh had not rung out sojolly in many weeks--so much had happened lately to dampen mirthfulspirits.

  "Just fancy," said Tavia turning back to Ned, "I was sent along to keepDorothy lively, she was actually threatened with nervous prostration,and think, how lively I did keep her? Came nearing firing a train."

  "Oh, anything for a change," politely answered Ned. "One cannot telljust what sort of tonic is best, I am sure she looks first rate."

  "Bully," added Nat, "but don't worry that you've laid aside nursing,Yule, I have not been well myself. Ahem! Just finish off on me!"

  "There comes our barber shop," called Ned, as a striped pole appearedin view. "Now for the artistic clip-the-clip. Mike is a genius,blushing unseen here. But I mean to set him up some day. Tried to gethim out to camp but he shied when we told him there were no 'cops.'Mike loves 'cops,' when the fellows get busy with his tonsorialapparatus."

  "Don't faint this time," Dorothy cautioned Tavia with a merry smile,thinking that those two boys would likely dip her in the brook at theside of the shop should she attempt anything like that.

  "Indeed I know where and when to faint," responded Tavia. "Mr. Frenchhas a way about him--"

  "But you never tried me," said Nat, making a funny move as if to catchan armful of thin air. "I am an authority on faints. Every girl atschool says I'm a perfect dear, for catching falls at commencementtime. They all keel over then."

  They were in front of the barber shop now. Mike opened the door withsuch a bow Tavia could scarcely repress a smile.

  Ned made the arrangements, and Tavia mounted the high chair, allowedMike, the Italian, to tuck the apron around her neck, then all shecould see was a very queer looking girl in the glass in front of her.

  "Just trim it evenly," said Dorothy, walking up to the chair, andfeeling it was hardly safe to trust the boys with the order.

  Carefully the barber let down the heavy coil.

  "What!" he exclaimed, seeing it was only "half a head." "Fire, you beenin explosion?"

  "Sure!" answered Ned, mechanically.

  Then Mike went through a series of groans, grunts and jabs at the air.

  "So shame," he wailed. "The hair is so fine--like gold, brown gold."

  With many a sigh and groan the barber plied his shears, stoppingconstantly to give vent to his feelings with a shrug of his broadshoulders and deep gutteral mutterings.

  "Oh, quit gargling your throat, Mike, and get through with the job. Theyoung lady is alive, you see, and expects to get back to the Cedars intime for breakfast," said Ned.

  "I am sure that will do," said Dorothy at last, whereat Tavia gladlygot out of the stuffy chair.

  "Great!" both boys exclaimed in admiration as they saw how "smart"Tavia looked.

  "It is becoming," said Dorothy.

  "Handy," commented Tavia.

  Presently the party was driving off again, Tavia indulgi
ng in thelaughs she dared not take part in with the scissors at her ear, whileDorothy "scolded" the boys for making such sport of a poor foreigner.

  "Poor indeed!" Ned echoed. "I wish we had some of his cash on hand. Imean the ready stuff. I have yet to make the acquaintance of a poorbarber; especially the imported kind."

  It was a jolly ride home--and the evening that followed was one full ofpleasure.

  [Illustration with caption: 'I AM SURE THAT WILL DO,' SAID DOROTHY ATLAST]