“Well, we must give you a pretty part,” promised Dorothy.  “And I tell you, just come over to The Cedars to-morrow and Aunt Winnie—­Mrs. White—­will have it all made out for you.  There, now, don’t cry another tear.  Come out to the tea-room with me and forget all your troubles.  No, your eyes are not red.  Come along,” and she slipped her arm through that of little Mary, while she led the child out to the party of gay young folks, there to entertain her and bring to the queer little girl that sort of enjoyment which often follows acute grief—­a reaction as uncontrollable as had been the bitterness which had caused the sorrow.

CHAPTER XVI

A DELICATE DISCOVERY

It was very near Christmas, and events were crowding about The Cedars.  Dorothy, as usual, had assumed more than her share of responsibility, for Tavia somehow acted queerly.  She spent much time running back and forth to the post-office, and it was evident to all that she and Nat were not the friends they had been previously.  Besides this, Ned had spoken to Dorothy, and had actually asked her not to “flirt” with those college boys!

This was unlike Ned, and a positive shock to Dorothy.  To be sure, he chose the word “flirt” indifferently, but to Dorothy it had an ugly sound, and that night, after all her worries at the rehearsal, she went to bed with a pair of very red eyes.

Perhaps it was the rush and excitement that caused every one to be so irritable and to so misunderstand things.  Certainly Tavia had some worry, and Ned did not act like himself, while Nat looked miserable.  It would be a queer holiday unless things mended promptly.

It was a pleasant morning, and Dorothy, feeling that a run in the open air would do her nerves good, seized upon some excuse to go to the village.

She wanted to be alone—­to think about what Ned had said, to look over everything carefully, and see if he had any excuse for such a remark.  Had she acted foolishly?  Could her innocent freedom with Tom Jennings be misunderstood?  Was it not possible for a girl to act naturally after she had passed the age of fifteen years?

Her head filled with such thoughts as these, in all the power that they may assume when first encountered by a young girl, Dorothy hurried along.  She would simply tell Ned all about it, she decided.  He surely would understand that she never dreamed of “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.