A shuffle and hum at the portal indicated the arrival of Tavia’s guests.

“Enter!” called Tavia, as she threw open the door, “and with the kind permission of the fair hostess, proceed to drag.  ’Drag if you must this good old bed, but spare my sister’s rags, she said,’” and she deliberately kicked Dorothy’s box across the room, while Edna, or Ned, proceeded to “shoot up” everything she could reach or at which she could lunge.  Cologne, being Dorothy’s friend, did the same thing on Tavia’s side, Molly Richards, known as Dick, was not particular on which side she dragged, just so long as she got a hold on something.

“Oh, girls, do be careful!” pleaded Dorothy.  “I have a tea set here I am so fond of—­”

But the warning came too late, for at that very moment Ned had thrown a picture, frame and all, into the box that Dorothy had started to pack the tea set in.  There was a crash, and even the reckless girls paused, for the sound of broken china is as abhorrent to any girl as is the bell for class to the Glenwoods.

Tavia dropped the pop gun she had been holding.  “Doro, I am so sorry,” she said.  “I know you valued that set so highly.  Take mine for it.”

“Oh, no, indeed,” replied Dorothy, her voice strained, for the set had been a gift from her little brother Roger, and he had used the first money he ever earned to buy it.  “Perhaps I can have it mended.”

Cologne, Edna, and Tavia put their heads together.  Presently they apologized to Dorothy and left the room.

“Wonder what’s up now?” Dorothy asked herself.  She did feel badly—­that tea set of all the things in her room!

She recalled how Roger had written that he had a surprise for her; then the arrival of the blue cups and saucers, and the note saying that the boy had sold lemonade, and thus earned his first money.  Then, that he had spent the money for that set.  And to think that it was ruined, for the crash told the woeful story of many pieces!

Dorothy did not feel like finishing her packing.  She felt more like having a good cry.  She was thinking of home, of her father, the major, then of her brother Joe, older than Roger, and lastly of dear, impetuous Roger himself.

Soon she would be home to them again!  Was she not their mother ever since she could remember?  For her own darling mother had been called away from her little ones so early in a promising life!

Sounds of voices in the hall roused her from her reverie.

Tavia entered first.  But her following!  Girl after girl crowded into the small room, until its very capacity was taxed beyond its possibilities.

“We’ve come!” announced Cologne.

“So I see,” replied Dorothy, all confusion.

“To make amends for our damage,” continued Cologne.  “Every girl on the floor has contributed to the collection and we venture to present to you the most unique tea set that has ever gone in or out of Glenwood.  Here,” and she set her contribution down, “is my prettiest piece.”