Miss Brooks offered the slip of paper to Dorothy.

“Wouldn’t you rather give it to Miss Travers?” asked Dorothy.

“Oh, yes,” replied the other, remembering that Dorothy had refused to listen to the explanation of Tavia’s difficulties.

Tavia was in the hall, and Dorothy called her.  Her eyes showed she had been weeping.  At the sight of Miss Brooks she turned as if to leave the room.  Dorothy put a detaining hand on her arm.

“She has good news for you.  I am going to leave you alone to hear it.”

“No,” insisted Tavia, now conscious that there was good news in the air.  “Stay and listen, Doro.  I did not tell you—­because I was a—­”

“Now stop!” insisted Dorothy.  “No calling of names.”

“You take too serious a view of it,” interrupted Miss Brooks.  “She simply did what hundreds do every day—­risked five dollars to make ten—­”

“It is nothing in the world but gambling!” declared Tavia almost fiercely.

“I agree with you,” answered Miss Brooks, “but you did not go into it with that understanding.  Neither did I offer to address their envelopes with a thorough understanding of their methods.  I simply was trying to find an address, and I made use of every means I considered legitimate.  Here is your money—­and your friend’s.  The address I was looking for came in person,” and once more she folded her arms about Mary.

“The money!” exclaimed Tavia, looking at the check in a dazed sort of way, “This is your money, Dorothy,” she said, reading the check—­“yours and Nat’s.  I gambled mother’s, and spent yours, then I bought Christmas presents.”

The check called for fifteen dollars and was made out to bearer.  Tavia offered it to Dorothy, who did not take it.

Miss Brooks insisted upon going.  She felt she had finished her business at The Cedars.

Tavia drew Dorothy into the library as the door closed upon the visitors.  Her eyes were blazing, although her hands seemed cold as they touched Dorothy’s arm.

“You know I gambled,” she stammered.  “I deliberately bought a ticket in a lottery.”

“I know you made a mistake,” insisted Dorothy.  “I could never call that gambling.”

“Then take the check, if you are not afraid of it,” went on Tavia.  “Part of it belongs to Nat—­the other five is what I borrowed from you.”

“Borrowed from me?  Why, I gave you that—­outright.  It was my Christmas in advance.  Just jump into your things, and come down to send a telegram home.  Send them five dollars by wire—­they will get it in the morning.  There is no present like the one that comes on Christmas morning, you know.”

“Dorothy!” exclaimed Tavia, “I can’t oppose you this time.  I know that five dollars will make my father and my mother know that I—­but it would be deceiving them,” she broke off.  “I am not fit to even send the gift.”

“Hurry! hurry!” begged Dorothy.  “I want to send some Christmas greetings by wire, and they will be too busy to take our messages if you wait later.”