d see if all
was well. I am on my way home from the telegraph office. Aunt Margaret
thought of an important message which she insisted had to go out
to-night."

Dorothy turned toward the library. Scarcely had she rounded the alcove
when Tom noticed some one at the top of the stairs.

It was Tavia.

She stood for a moment looking at Tom, then she nodded her head in a
friendly way and disappeared as quietly as she had come.

"Awkward," thought Tom, "but any one would know I am here to hear about
Ned."

Dorothy was coming back now, and she was smiling.

"Sound asleep," she whispered.

"Good," breathed Tom. "Now I won't keep you another second. Awfully good
of you to let me in."

"Not at all," stammered Dorothy. "I was just a little frightened first. I
will know better than to light up at midnight again."

"The midnight alarm!" quoted Tom, making his way out. "Don't stand in the
draft. It's cold enough. Good-night!"

Then he was gone.

Dorothy flew back to her room, agitated, but comforted that Ned was
resting. This knowledge seemed to assure her that he was not seriously
injured, and now she took up the Tavia question.

"She must not go home," Dorothy repeated. "I will see if she is still up."

A glimmer of light stole under Tavia's door. Dorothy tapped lightly, but
opened the door unbidden. She found her chum bent over pen and paper, but
as Dorothy came in Tavia dropped the pen and looked up in surprise.

"Tavia," began Dorothy, "I came to coax you to stay--you must not go home
to-morrow. I will telegraph your father. He was always so--kind to me.
And when he hears all about it--about Ned and all--I am sure he will not
be angry."

"I cannot," answered Tavia. "I must go."

"Oh, please, Tavia, do listen! If you go, what will you say? What will you
do?"

"I don't know."

"Tavia!" pleaded Dorothy, a note of distress in her voice.

The two girls looked into each other's eyes. Dorothy's were brimful, but
Tavia's were too "frozen" for tears.

"Tavia, dear," whispered Dorothy.

Tavia's arm stole about Dorothy's neck. She touched the flushed cheek with
her dry lips. Then she straightened up in an attitude of defiance.

"I'll stay!" she exclaimed. "I don't care what they think of me."

CHAPTER XX

THE ENTERTAINMENT

How the following day passed Dorothy did not want to remember. From the
early morning, when she sent the telegram to Mr. Travers, stating that
Tavia could not possibly leave, an