the sick mother was present? What was that
strange unnatural gleam in the black eyes? Anger or jealousy?

"I am sorry," faltered Dorothy; then she turned and left the room.

One hour later Tavia found Dorothy buried in her pillows. Tears would
still come to her eyes, although she had struggled bravely to suppress
them.

"Doro!" exclaimed her friend in surprise. "Are you homesick?"

"No," sobbed the miserable girl. "It isn't exactly homesick--." Then
the thought came to her that she should not implicate Viola, she had
promised to save her from further suffering. Surely she had enough
with the sick mother.

"Then what is it?" demanded Tavia.

"Oh, I don't know, Tavia," and she tried again to check her tears, "but
I just had to cry."

"Nervous," concluded the Dalton girl. "Well, we must cure that. You
know we are to be initiated this evening. Aren't you scared?"

"Oh, yes," and Dorothy sat upright. "I quite forgot. Do we join the
Nicks?"

"Unless you prefer the Pills. They are the stiffest set--not a bit
like our crowd. And the way they talk! A cross between a brogue and
Tom Burbank. 'I came hawf way uptown before I could signal a car-r',"
rolled out Tavia, mocking the long A's, and rolled R's of the New
England girl. "How's that for English? I call it brogue."

"It does sound queer, but they tell me it is the correct
pronunciation," Dorothy managed to say, while working diligently with
her handkerchief on her eyes and cheeks.

"Then, as in all things else," declared Tavia, "I am thankful not to be
orthodox--I should get tonsilitis if I ever tried anything like that."

"Where is the meeting to be held?" asked Dorothy.

"Don't know--we must not know anything. Ned says it will be easy.
Dick is the guide, and I know Cologne has something to do with it. I
do hope you won't be sad-eyed, Doro."

"You can depend upon me to do Dalton justice," declared the girl on the
bed. "I'm anxious to see what they will do to us. No hazing, I hope."

"In this Sunday school? Mercy no! No such luck. They will probably
make us recite psalms," asserted the irreverent Tavia.

"But being Parson that would be appropriate for me," Dorothy declared.

"And for a Chris! That would be all right also," added Tavia. "Well,
I know one or two."

"There is someone coming to call us," and Dorothy jumped to her feet.
"I must bathe my stupid eyes."

A half hour later the meeting was called. It was held in a littl