<h2 id="c3">CHAPTER III <br/><span class="small">A CUP OF TEA</span></h2>
<p>“Dorothy,” began Tavia that evening, as the
two girls sat alone in their room, enjoying their
usual good-night conference, “why couldn’t you
take that spin out to the auto meet. It would be
no end of good fun.”</p>
<p>“Fun!” echoed Dorothy, surprised that Tavia
should again venture to propose such a thing.
“Why, Tavia! Really you shock me!” Then
she went to the little dresser, under pretext of looking
for something, but in reality to gain time—she
scarcely knew what to say to her chum, whose
sudden whim was so startling.</p>
<p>Tavia sat on the box divan, her hands in her
lap, and her brown head bent over, a strange and
serious attitude for the girl who was never known
to sit still, even in church; and who had the reputation
of being the jolliest girl at Glenwood. For
some moments she appeared to be unconscious of
Dorothy’s presence, so absorbed was she in her
own thoughts. Dorothy was now regarding her
curiously. What could have turned Tavia’s
head? For turned from its usually bright and
happy line of thought it plainly was.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_29">[29]</div>
<p>“What is it, Tavia?” she asked finally, stealing
up to the crouched figure, and placing her arm
gently about her chum’s neck.</p>
<p>“Why?” inquired the other, with a sudden
start, as if afraid Dorothy would divine her
thoughts.</p>
<p>“You are worried about something—come tell
me what it is!”</p>
<p>“Worried!” Tavia jumped up, shaking off
Dorothy’s arm. “Worried! Dorothy Dale, I
believe you’re not well! You act morbid—creepy!”</p>
<p>Dorothy turned away. She was hurt—crushed—that
Tavia should spurn her affection and refuse
her confidence.</p>
<p>“We always told each other everything,” and
Dorothy almost sighed, as her words came slowly,
and with strange coldness. “I never imagined
you would keep any important secret from me.”</p>
<p>“You silly!” exclaimed Tavia, throwing her
arms around Dorothy this time. “Who said I
had a secret? What in the world has put that
wild notion into your yellow head?—bless it!”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_30">[30]</div>
<p>This last expression brought a kiss to the golden
ringlets, and, as the two girls sat there, Dorothy
with a far-away look in her eyes that were clouded
with unbidden tears, Tavia with her cheek pressed
lovingly against the blond head, and her own eyes
looking into some unknown future, their pose was
like a stage picture—the kind usually presented
when one sister is about to leave a country home,
and the other bids her stay.</p>
<p>“Aren’t we a couple of jays!” broke in Tavia,
as soon as she appeared to realize the melo-dramatic
effect. “I declare we ought to travel as
‘The Glum Sisters—Mag and Liz.’ There!
Wouldn’t we make a hit for teary ones? Weeps
are in great demand they say. Smiles are being
overworked in the profresh!” and she strode up
to the mirror with a most self-satisfied glance at
her pretty face.</p>
<p>“Tavia, you are getting awfully big for slang—it
seems more like sneering than joking,” exclaimed
Dorothy. “And I’ve been wanting to
say that to you—some of the other girls have
noticed it. They say you act more like a chorus
girl than a Glenwood pupil. Of course I don’t
want to hurt your feelings, but I thought it would
be better for me to tell you than for you to hear
it from some one else.”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_31">[31]</div>
<p>“Chorus girl! Thanks! No need to apologize,
I assure you. That’s from silly, little Nita
Brandt, I suppose? Well, better to act like a
chorus girl than—a fool!” blurted out Tavia
with a show of temper. “And any silly girl, who
can not keep things to herself—well, I always
thought Nita was a featherhead and now I know
it!”</p>
<p>“Oh, indeed it was not Nita!” Dorothy hastened
to assure her. “It was at the lawn tea the
other day. You were ‘acting’; don’t you remember?
Doing that funny toe dance you are always
trying lately.”</p>
<p>“O-o-o-o-h!” and Tavia made a queer little
pout, and a very funny face. “So they appreciated
my maiden effort, eh? I am indeed flattered!
Tell the girls I’m much obliged and I’ll
see that they get passes for the initial performance.
Tell them, also, to have the bouquets tagged—it’s
so annoying to have a great stack of ‘Please
accepts’ to answer, with the superscriptions ‘cut
out’ so to speak. I know all the girls will send
pansies—they are so sweet, and would make such
wicked faces for the girls who could not conveniently
present their own adorable ‘phizes’!”</p>
<p>“What in the world are you talking about?”
asked Dorothy, who had been listening to the outburst
with a queer idea that all this stage business
was not mere idle chatter—that there might be
a reason for Tavia’s cynicism.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_32">[32]</div>
<p>“Talking about auto rides,” quietly answered
Tavia, recovering herself with an effort. “Wasn’t
that a dandy this afternoon? And to think we
might have missed that ‘Horatius at the bridge’
business if I had been silly enough to mention that
the planking was gone!”</p>
<p>“Don’t talk of it!” exclaimed Dorothy, shuddering.
“I cannot bear to think of what might
have happened. And, Tavia, you must not think
I have adopted the lecture platform for good, but
I must say, it was careless of you not to mention
about the bridge—especially as you knew what
a hill led down to it, and how the Fire Bird can
cover hills.”</p>
<p>“Of course you know I entirely forgot it,
Doro,” and now Tavia showed some remorse at
the reprimand.</p>
<p>“My! There’s the bell!” exclaimed Dorothy
as a clang sounded down the corridor. “I
had no idea it was so late,” and she jumped up to
disrobe. “Quick, or Miss Higley will see our
light.”</p>
<p>“Let her,” answered Tavia indifferently. “I
don’t feel very well, and would just love something
warm—say a nice little cup of tea—”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_33">[33]</div>
<p>A tap at the door interrupted her remarks.
Dorothy jumped into a large closet and Tavia
calmly opened the portal.</p>
<p>It was Miss Higley, the second assistant teacher,
with rather a forbidding expression on her
wrinkled face, and who, among the girls, bore a
reputation characterized as “sour.”</p>
<p>“Why is this?” she demanded, stepping in and
brushing Tavia aside.</p>
<p>“I was just thinking of calling you,” answered
Tavia, clapping her hand to her waist line. “I
have such a dreadful—Oh, dear!” and she sat
down without further explanation.</p>
<p>“Do you need anything?” asked Miss Higley,
her tone more kindly.</p>
<p>“Oh, no; certainly not,” sighed Tavia. “I
would not trouble you. But if I might have a
sip of tea—that tea you brought Dorothy did her
so much good the other night.”</p>
<p>She paused to allow a proper expression of
agony to spread over her face, and gently rubbed
her hand over the region covered by her belt.</p>
<p>“I suppose you made that tea yourself,
didn’t you? It was so good, Dorothy told
me.”</p>
<p>That settled it. For any one to praise Miss
Higley’s brew! So few persons really do appreciate
a good cup of tea. As usual Tavia had
“won out.”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_34">[34]</div>
<p>“Why of course I’ll get you a cup. I have
just made a small pot—I felt rather—rather
tired myself. I don’t, as a rule, drink tea at
night, but I was not altogether well. Where is
Dorothy?”</p>
<p>“Just slipping on a robe,” with a glance at the
closet where her chum was concealed. “I’m
afraid I disturbed her,” went on Tavia glibly.</p>
<p>“Well, I’ll get the tea,” Miss Higley remarked,
as she started to leave the room. “I’ll bring the
pot here and we can take it together.”</p>
<p>“Quick!” called Tavia to Dorothy as the door
closed. “Slip on your robe. Tea with Higley!
Of all the doin’s!” and she promptly turned a
somersault on the hitherto unrumpled bed.
“Won’t the girls howl! I do hope she brings
biscuits. There, get down your box, you precious
miser! Just think of ‘crackering’ Higley!”</p>
<p>Dorothy appeared dumfounded. It had all
been arranged so quickly—and there was Miss
Higley back again. She carried a tray with a
small china teapot and three blue cups to match.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_35">[35]</div>
<p>“I thought Dorothy might like a cup,” she remarked
in a sort of apologetic way. “There
now,” as Tavia and Dorothy relieved her of the
tray, “it will be pleasant to have a sip together.
Of course we would not do it but for Octavia’s
illness.” (Tavia looked to be in dreadful pain
at that moment.) “But since we have to give
her a cup of tea, we may as well make a virtue of
necessity.”</p>
<p>“It is very kind of you, Miss Higley,” Dorothy
said, rather hesitatingly. “I’m sure that we—that
is I—I mean Tavia—should not have
put you to all this trouble—but of course one
can’t help being ill,” she hastened to add, for she
felt she was rather giving Tavia’s secret away.</p>
<p>“It really is too bad to make all this fuss,” the
supposed sufferer interjected. “You went to a
lot of trouble for me, Miss Higley, and I appreciate
it very much,” and Tavia winked the eye
next to Dorothy, but concealed the sign from the
sight of the instructress. Tavia was trying hard
not to laugh, and her repressed emotion shook the
tray to the no small danger of upsetting the teapot,
cups and all.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_36">[36]</div>
<p>“I never consider my duty any trouble,” answered
Miss Higley, seeming to feel the obligation
of being dignified. In fact, it did not occur
to her just then that she was doing a most unprecedented
thing—taking tea with two school girls,
and after hours at that! However, she had committed
herself, and now there was no way out.
Dorothy presented her package of chocolate
crackers, and Miss Higley took some, while Tavia
arranged the tea tray on the little table.</p>
<p>Surely the scene was mirth-provoking. Dorothy
in her pretty blue robe, Tavia with her hair
loose, collar off and shoes unlaced, and Miss Higley,
prim as ever, in her brown mohair, with the
long black cord on her glasses. There the three
sat, sipping tea and “making eyes,”—“too full
for utterance,” as Tavia would say.</p>
<p>“Such lovely tea,” Dorothy managed to gulp
out at the risk of allowing her mouth to get loose
in a titter, once the tight line of silence was broken.</p>
<p>Then, all at once they stopped drinking—some
one was coming down the hall. Miss Higley
arose instantly. The gentle tap on the door
was answered by Tavia.</p>
<p>Mrs. Pangborn!</p>
<p>“Oh,” she apologized, “I did not mean to disturb
a little social tea. Do sit down, Honorah,”
to Miss Higley. “I’m very glad to see you enjoying
yourself,” and Mrs. Pangborn meant what
she said.</p>
<p>“Oh, indeed, I merely came to administer to a
sick girl. Octavia was suddenly taken with
cramps.”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_37">[37]</div>
<p>Mrs. Pangborn glanced at Tavia.</p>
<p>“But that cup of tea has made me feel so much
better,” declared Dorothy’s room-mate, with that
kind of truth that mere words make—the kind
that challenges falsehood.</p>
<p>“I am always glad to see you looking after the
girls, Honorah,” went on the principal, “but I
am equally glad to see you consider yourself. I’m
sure you have a perfect right to take a cup of tea
here. My dear,” to Dorothy, “perhaps you have
a sip left?”</p>
<p>Dorothy found there was another cup of the
beverage, still warm in the little teapot, and this
she poured into her own pink and white china
cup for Mrs. Pangborn.</p>
<p>Miss Higley remained standing, seemingly too
abashed to move.</p>
<p>“Do finish yours,” said Tavia, pushing the
empty chair toward the embarrassed teacher.</p>
<p>But Tavia’s mirth showed through her alleged
illness, and Miss Higley began to feel that she had
been imposed upon.</p>
<p>“If you—if you will excuse me,” she stammered.</p>
<p>“Oh, do finish your tea,” begged Mrs. Pangborn,
and so the severe little teacher was obliged
to sit down again.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_38">[38]</div>
<p>An hour later Tavia was still trying to “untwist
her kinks,” as she described her attacks of
muffled laughter.</p>
<p>“Oh, wasn’t it gloriotious!” she exclaimed.
“To think I couldn’t get a single twinge in my
entire system! If I only could put that sort of a
cramp in alcohol, wouldn’t it be an heirloom to
Glenwood!”</p>
<p>“Please do stop,” pleaded Dorothy, from under
her quilt. “The next time they may bring a
doctor and a stomach pump, and if you don’t let
me go to sleep I do believe I will call her.”</p>
<p>“You dare to and I’ll get something dreadfully
contagious, so you will have to be disinfected and
isolated. But Higley the terrible! The abused
little squinty-eyed tattle-tale! Oh, when Mrs.
Pangborn said she was glad to see her enjoying
herself! That persecuted saint enjoying herself!
Didn’t she look the part?”</p>
<p>But even such mirth must succumb to slumber
when the victim is young and impressionable, so,
with yawns and titters, Tavia finally quieted down
to sleep.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_39">[39]</div>
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