“Funny how the porters always like that sort of thing,” remarked Dorothy.  “I don’t believe they ever get a cent for it, either.”

“But look at the glory,” said Tavia.  “Every eye in the car is on that sofa.  My gaze is simply crowded out.  Let’s want something.  Oh, yes.  I have lost my—­’Porter!’” called Tavia sweetly, at the same time touching the button at the window.  The man in the brass-buttoned uniform turned promptly.  “I have lost my hand bag,” said Tavia.  “I surely had it when I entered.”

Persons in several seats around disturbed themselves.  Dorothy’s face flushed.  How absurd Tavia was to make that confusion, just for fun.

Every time Tavia stooped to look under the seat, or about it, she would pinch Dorothy, which act did not add to the latter’s comfort.

“Oh, I have it,” exclaimed the wily one.  “Thank you so much,” and she smiled clear up and down the aisle.  “I was sure I had it,” and taking her seat, she managed, in the most conspicuously discreet way, to slip into the porter’s palm something shiny.

“There,” she added, when he was gone, “wasn’t that neat, Doro?  He is ours now for the rest of the trip, and the lady on the sofa is nil.”

Dorothy knew it was worse than useless to protest, but this was not the sort of thing she considered fun.

“Did you have a pleasant time at Dalton?” she asked, hoping to get Tavia’s attention.  “I was so sorry I could not go up for a day.”

“You might be glad,” replied Tavia.  “Of all the stupid times—­I would have run away but for Johnnie.  He took me fishing, and I—­wore overalls!  Oh, only out in the woods, of course, but it was sport, and I caught fish!  It’s skirts that hoodoo the catch.  I have come to that conclusion.”

“In what woods did you wear—­overalls?” and Dorothy looked almost frightened.  Might Tavia have the garb with her?

“Oh, away out Mushroom way.  And I stretched out just like any respectable boy, and cast the line!  Dear me, Doro!  I would just loved to have smoked!  That would have made it—­perfect!”

“There isn’t a shock left in me,” Dorothy assured her, “so don’t try so hard Tavia.  I am simply immune.  You must have looked just—­sweet—­in overalls.  I hope they were dark blue.”

“Are,” corrected Tavia, “are dark blue,” and she wheeled around out toward the aisle just as a young chap in white flannels passed along.  He looked down at her in that pardonable way common even in the best style of traveling.  Dorothy breathed more easily when he passed out to the next coach.

“Wasn’t he dear?” commented Tavia.  “Doro, I just know we are going to have a perfectly bang-up time, this summer.”

“Take care you come out of it without too much ‘banging’ up,” cautioned Dorothy.  “This summer business is getting exciting.”

“Wonder if we will see the man of the horse?  He who made such beautiful bows, and acted so—­actly.  Wasn’t he lovely?  My, I have dreamed of him, Doro!”