Toot! toot! toot!

“Are the boys going out?” asked Dorothy suddenly.

“I didn’t think so,” replied Mrs. White.

“Oh, I have to go on an errand!” exclaimed Tavia, as if she had just thought of it.  “Perhaps Nat will take me.  I have a package I have to mail.”

She was down the stairs before either Dorothy or Mrs. White had a chance to speak.  They looked at each other questioningly.

“Nat!  Nat!” called Tavia from the front door.  “Take me!  Wait a moment!”

She had her things on and was out instantly.

“Oh, I’m just scared to death!” she exclaimed as she climbed into the seat beside Nat.  “Good-by!” she called up to the window.  And then they were off.

“Neat little job,” exclaimed Nat.  “Didn’t they ask you where?”

“I didn’t give them a chance.  I just stammered something about a package at the post-office.  But, Nat, it is such mean work!  I can’t bear to deceive Dorothy!” and Tavia felt dangerously like crying.

“And do you fool yourself that you are deceiving her?” asked the cousin.  “I’ll bet she comes pretty near guessing it all, and for my part I cannot see why you do not up and tell her.  It is no great crime to—­”

“Oh, please, don’t, Nat!” begged the girl.  “It’s bad enough, goodness knows, but don’t let’s go over it again.”

“The Griswold is quite a swell place,” remarked Nat.  “She must either have money, or make money, to put up there.”

“And I feel that she put that ring in Dorothy’s bag.  Oh, perhaps she is only trying to get me into some other trouble.”

“Well, don’t get,” advised Nat.  “I’ll be outside within call, and if you get suspicious just raise your finger and I’ll be Johnnie on the spot.”

The Griswold was a large, stone building, originally intended to be used as a handsome private residence, but of late years converted into a rest-resort or sanitarium.  Tavia mounted the broad steps timidly and touched the old-fashioned knocker.  In a moment a butler appeared and took her card for Miss Brooks, while Tavia waited in the spacious reception-room.  She noticed that this apartment was almost overcrowded with gilt-framed pictures, some paintings, others evidently family portraits.

Presently Miss Brooks entered.  She wore a simple, close-fitting black gown, and Tavia felt instinctively that this little woman possessed a powerful personality.  She was even inclined to fear her, although this sentiment might be a matter of nervous excitement rather than the result of well-founded antipathy.

Tavia noticed she was not poorly dressed—­she looked very different now; the woman in black on the train had presented such a distressed, worn-out appearance.

“Come right up to my room,” said Miss Brooks pleasantly.  “I received your note, and have been expecting you.”

Tavia smiled and murmured something as she followed Miss Brooks up the soft, carpeted stairs.  At the first landing the woman opened a door, and motioned Tavia to step in.  The room was large and well-furnished after the regulation boarding-house plan—­dressing-table, desk, couch-bed, and curtained bookcase, but no article of furniture indicated any line of business that might be carried on in the room, Tavia observed.