Back Aa

Dorothy Dale's Great Secret

Close

<h2 id="c15">CHAPTER XV <br/><span class="small">A SPELL OF THE “GLUMPS”</span></h2> <p>Whizzing along the road Nat tried to decide how it would be best to break the disappointing news to Dorothy. Of his escapade with Urania he had fully determined not to say a word. Dorothy had enough girls to worry about, he argued, and if she heard of this one she would form a searching expedition, and set out at once to hunt the Gypsy who, Nat thought, was like a human squirrel and able to take care of herself.</p> <p>The return trip seemed shorter than that which took Nat out to Dalton, and as the Fire Bird swung into the Cedars’ entrance somewhat later than the youth expected to get back, Dorothy was at the gate awaiting to hear news of Tavia.</p> <p>“Buffalo,” announced Nat sententiously, as Dorothy came up beside the car which jerked to a stop amid a screeching of the brake. “She went there some time ago. She’s at Grace Barnum’s. Wait. I have the address.”</p> <div class="pb" id="Page_140">[140]</div> <p>Without delaying to put the machine up, Nat produced a slip of paper upon which he had written, at Mrs. Travers’s direction, the street and number of Miss Barnum’s residence. He handed it to Dorothy.</p> <p>“Do you think it’s all right?” asked Dorothy, looking at the directions.</p> <p>“’Course it is. Everybody in Dalton is as chipper as possible. You’re the only one who’s worrying. Now, if I were you, I’d just let up, Doro. You’ll be down sick if you don’t.”</p> <p>“Perhaps I am foolish. And I have given you a lot of trouble,” spoke up the girl a little sadly.</p> <p>“Trouble? Nothing!” exclaimed Nat. “I just like the lark. When you want any more sleuthing done apply at headquarters. I’m the gum-shoe man for this section,” and at that he turned his attention to the Fire Bird, while Dorothy walked thoughtfully back to the house.</p> <p>Poor Dorothy! An instinctive foreboding of danger had taken possession of her now, and, try as she did to dispel it, an unmistakable voice seemed to call out to her:</p> <p>“Find Tavia! She needs you, Dorothy Dale!”</p> <p>“Perhaps,” thought Dorothy, “she has run away and is really with some circus troupe, as the Gypsy girl said. Or perhaps she is at some watering place, taking part in a play—”</p> <div class="pb" id="Page_141">[141]</div> <p>This last possibility was the one that Dorothy dreaded most to dwell upon. Tavia must have loved the stage, else why did she constantly do the things she did at school, so like a little actress, and so like a girl “stage-struck,” as Aunt Winnie called it?</p> <p>These and similar fancies floated through Dorothy’s brain hour after hour, in spite of whatever diversion presented itself for her amusement.</p> <p>The afternoon, following Nat’s trip to Dalton, Dorothy, with her brothers, Roger and Joe, went to gather pond lilies near the waterfall. It was a delightful day, and the sun glistened on the quiet sheet of the mill pond, making liquid diamonds. The lilies, of which there was an abundance, looked like carved wax that had frozen the sun’s gold in each heart. But, somehow, Dorothy, could not work up her usual enthusiasm in gathering the blossoms.</p> <p>It was delightful to dip her hands into the cool stream and surely to hear little Roger prattle was an inspiration, but all the while Dorothy was thinking of crowded Buffalo, and wondering what a certain girl might be doing there on that summer afternoon.</p> <div class="pb" id="Page_142">[142]</div> <p>In the evening Major Dale and Mrs. White, taking Dorothy with them, went for a drive along the broad boulevard that was the pride of that exclusive summer place—North Birchland. Dorothy tried bravely to rouse herself from her gloomy reveries but, in spite of her efforts, Mrs. White complained that her niece was not like her usual self—“Perhaps not feeling well,” she ventured.</p> <p>“I’m ‘glumpy’ ever since I left Glenwood,” admitted Dorothy. “Not because I want to be, nor that I am not having a most delightful time, but I simply have the ‘glumps.’ At Glenwood they prescribe extra work for an attack like this,” and the girl laughed at her own diagnosis.</p> <p>“You certainly should dispel the ‘glumps,’” said Mrs. White. “I can’t imagine what could produce an attack here at the Cedars, with all your own folks around you, Dorothy, dear. I do believe you are lonely for those impossible girls. What do you say to paying some of them a little visit, just to break in on your holiday?”</p> <p>“Really, aunty,” protested Dorothy, “I am perfectly content. What sort of girl would I be to want to run away and leave you all after being away so long at school? No, indeed, I’ll stay right here at the beautiful Cedars, and I’ll try to be a better girl—to get rid at once of my spell of the ‘glumps’ as we used to call them at Glenwood.”</p> <div class="pb" id="Page_143">[143]</div> <p>“But girls are girls,” insisted her aunt, “and you have no control, my dear, over such sentiment as I imagine you are afflicted with at present. Just plan out a little trip somewhere and, I’ll vouch for it, the visit to some giggling Dolly Varden of a girl will do you no end of good. And then, too, you may invite her back here with you.”</p> <p>Mrs. White divined too well the reason for Dorothy’s “blue spell.” She could see perfectly how much her niece missed the light-hearted Tavia, and in advising her to take a little trip Mrs. White was sure Dorothy would choose to go where her chum might be.</p> <p>In this she was right, but concerning what Dorothy might do to reach Tavia Mrs. White had no idea. She merely suggested a “little trip somewhere,” believing Dorothy would find Tavia, either in Dalton, or visiting some girl friend, as Dorothy had told her Tavia intended doing. But circumstances conspired to give Dorothy the very opportunity she longed for—she would go somewhere—anywhere—to look for her “sister-friend”—the girl who had been to her more than friend and almost a sister.</p> <div class="pb" id="Page_144">[144]</div> <p>Ned and Nat had planned a trip to Buffalo at the beginning of their vacation. They were to meet a number of their chums there, and do some exploring in the neighborhood of Niagara Falls. They were to make the journey in the Fire Bird, and when Mrs. White suggested a trip for Dorothy it was the run to Buffalo, in the automobile, that immediately came into the girl’s mind.</p> <p>“If I only could go with the boys,” she pondered. “But what excuse would I have?”</p> <p>All the next day she turned the subject over in her mind. Then something very remarkable happened. Persons who believe in thought controlling matter would not call the incident out of the ordinary perhaps, but, be that as it may, when Dorothy strolled down to the post-office, having a slender hope of a letter from Tavia, she did find a letter in the box—a letter from Rose-Mary Markin, stating that she, and her mother, were going to Buffalo and Niagara Falls for a few days, and, as Buffalo was only about a day’s trip from North Birchland, perhaps Dorothy could take a “run” to Buffalo, and spend a few days with them.</p> <p>Dorothy’s head thumped when she read the letter. The very thing of all others she would have wished for, had she been as wise as the unknown fate that worked it out for her, without any action on her own part!</p> <div class="pb" id="Page_145">[145]</div> <p>She felt light enough now to “fly” over the road back to the Cedars, to show the invitation to Mrs. White. The boys were to leave for Buffalo the next day, so there was little time to be lost, should Major Dale and Mrs. White think it best for Dorothy to make the trip. How the girl trembled while waiting for the decision. What if she should be disappointed? It was a long ride in the auto—but with her cousins—</p> <p>Mrs. White read Rose-Mary’s little note a second time while Dorothy stood there waiting. The aunt noticed how delicately Rose-Mary indicated her own mother’s anxiety to meet Dorothy, and then with what a nicety the whole matter was referred to Major Dale and Dorothy’s aunt. This carefully written note, neither stilted nor indifferent in its tone, convinced Mrs. White at once that the writer was exactly the girl Dorothy had described her to be—her very best friend at Glenwood—excepting only Tavia.</p> <p>“Well, I don’t see why you can’t go with the boys,” spoke her aunt finally. “They are always careful, and if you leave here, as they intend to do, at sunrise (that will be an experience for you) you should get into Buffalo in time for the evening dinner. I’ll just sound the major,” giving Dorothy a loving embrace. “Not that a mere man, even be he Major Dale, can hold out against two such Sampson-like wills as ours.”</p> <div class="pb" id="Page_146">[146]</div> <p>From that moment, until the time of her stepping into the Fire Bird next morning, and waving a good-bye to the little party that stood on the porch to see them off, it all seemed like the strangest, subtlest dream to Dorothy. She was going to find Tavia—going herself to look for her, and find out for herself all the questions that, for weeks, had been eating away her happiness with dreaded uncertainties.</p> <div class="pb" id="Page_147">[147]</div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />

1 of 2

2 of 2