“Plans, plans, nothing but plans,” sang Tavia.  “I wish some one would make plans for me.  I would like to elope this very evening.  I am not particular about having a partner in the going away; a railroad ticket would answer.”

Dorothy glanced up quickly at Tavia.  She knew the latter almost meant what she said—­that is, she would really like to run away before Christmas morning.

“And shake me?” asked Nat in mock concern.  “Now, Tavia, you and I have been friends for a long, long time—­”

But this was too much for Tavia.  Suddenly she jumped up, put her hand to her eyes and dashed from the room.

“She’s crying!” whispered Ned.

Then Dorothy, too, left the room.  She went to comfort Tavia.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE DAY BEFORE CHRISTMAS

“Well, I never expected to forgive him—­he was so mean and obstinate—­”

The unpleasant, treble voice of Miss Jane Pumfret was interrupted by the lower tones of Major Dale.

“But, my dear woman,” he said, “Captain Mayberry is not responsible—­he is sick, mentally and physically.”

“Well, I’ll see,” and she arose to go, “I am not much of a hand at making up, anyway.”

“But if you could have seen how he begged me to send for you.  He seemed to fear you would be angry with him for leaving the old place.”

“Angry?  More likely to be scared to death.  I could not believe the old stage driver that you had really brought him to a hospital.  Well, I must be going.”  She was almost at the door.  “Don’t mention my name to him, if you please.”

Major Dale was at his wits’ end.  He feared the old captain would be beyond consolation if he did not do as he had promised—­send Miss Pumfret to him at once.

Dorothy was just on the stairs.  At a glance she understood that her father had failed to bring about a reconciliation between Captain Mayberry and his sister.  She approached them.

“You are Miss Pumfret, I know,” she began, without waiting for her father’s introduction.  “Isn’t it perfectly splendid?—­the news from Captain Mayberry, I mean.  He seemed as pleased as a child when I promised him a merry Christmas, and to-morrow morning I am going into the hospital to make sure he gets it.  Won’t you come with me?  He will be delighted to see you, I am sure.”

Miss Pumfret looked at the impetuous girl who was going to make sure her brother had a merry Christmas.

“You see,” hurried on Dorothy, taking advantage of the moment to further press her request, “we just had the place ready for him.  We gave a play, and had a new bed at our disposal.”

“My brother a charity patient!” exclaimed the woman.  “Why, there’s plenty of money in the property, but I won’t touch pen to paper to sign—­”

“Of course, we can take care of him,” interrupted Dorothy; “but I thought maybe you would like to make him a little Christmas present—­it is visiting day to-morrow and the day before Christmas.”