"flirting."

From the main highway she was obliged to turn into a branch of the road
from Ferndale to reach the post-office, that little building being
situated at the junction of both thoroughfares.

In her excitement she had scarcely glanced before her, but now, as she
turned into the Ferndale road, she observed a woman coming along the same
path. It was Miss Brooks.

Somehow Dorothy was glad to meet her. After all, it was not pleasant to
think too seriously.

"Good-morning," said Dorothy with all the vivacity she could summon.
"Looking for Christmas mail too?"

"Yes," replied Miss Brooks, with something of a sigh. "There are many
kinds of Christmas mail, I suppose."

The reply confused Dorothy. She did not want to bring sad reflections to
the "little woman in black."

"I guess we will have pleasant weather," Dorothy hurried to say vaguely.
"I hope so, at any rate, for we must depend considerably upon the weather
for the success of our hospital entertainment. You know, we are to have
one."

"Yes, I've seen the tickets," said Miss Brooks, walking along with
Dorothy. Then both paused. Both had evidently exhausted the commonplace.

Miss Brooks looked keenly at Dorothy. The latter could feel her searching
gaze, and wondered secretly what it could mean. Presently Miss Brooks
said:

"I believe you are a prudent girl, Miss Dale, and I wonder if I might
trust you with a delicate--matter?"

"If I can help you--yes," answered Dorothy promptly.

"It is not to help me," said the other, "but to help your friend, Miss
Travers."

Dorothy felt instantly that she referred to Tavia's troubles--those
troubles which Tavia herself had refused to confide in her. Should she
hear them from another?

In her direct way, without mincing words or risking any misunderstanding,
Dorothy said decidedly:

"If you are sure I can help my friend I will be glad to do so, but I have
no wish to interfere in any personal affair of hers."

Miss Brooks did not weaken. Dorothy's honesty in speaking as she did only
seemed the more to convince her that Dorothy Dale could and ought to help
Tavia Travers.

"I know," she went on, "that Miss Travers is greatly worried over a matter
of money. I advised her how she could be relieved of that worry, but in
spite of my advice I have reason to think that she has only made matters
worse by writing to her folks at home and asking them for more money."

"Writing home for money!" gasped Dorothy.

"Y