“Tavia is a rough diamond,” Dorothy would tell the major, “and you need not be afraid of Aunt Libby’s dreadful ideas about her.  She’s as good as gold.  Lots of girls, who turn up their noses at her, might learn charity from the Tiger Lily, as they call her, just because she has a few freckles around her eyes.  I think they make her eyes prettier, they are so brown—­her eyes you know.  And Daddy, no other girl in Dalton loves soldiers, dead or alive, as truly as Tavia does.”

This last argument never failed to convince Major Dale, for a patriotic girl could no more go astray than could a star fall from the flag, he declared; so the Little Captain might go with Tavia if she desired.

So it was that Dorothy and Tavia were companions on Decoration Day.  For weeks they had been getting ready—­Tavia picking out the patches of daisies that would surely be in bloom in time, and Dorothy making certain that Mrs. Travers would not disappoint Tavia with her white things, as well as keeping track of Aunt Libby, who had Dorothy’s own costume in hand.  The dress was too short and had to be let down a whole inch, and of course, it could not be done up until after the alterations were finished.

There was always a big time in Dalton on Memorial Day, but this year it was to be made more memorable than ever before.  The Grand Army of the Republic men were to come in from Rochester, the firemen were to turn out, and the school children were to have a place in the ranks, with Dorothy Dale as their leader.  Besides this, the Dalton Drum and Fife Corps would make their first public appearance on this occasion, and a real review was to be given the procession, in the little square opposite the school, not very far from the cemetery where the soldiers’ graves would be decorated.

No wonder, then, that Dorothy and Tavia were anxious about their appearance.  Every school girl was expected to wear white, of course, and the bunting stripes of red, white and blue were bought in Rochester, by the school teacher, Miss Ellis, and sold to the children at actual cost--ten cents for each scarf.

One thing was certain, no other girls would have such flowers as Dorothy and Tavia had.  Such syringias and such daisies!  And the ferns that Tavia had growing back of the well for weeks!

Tavia had taken charge of the flowers for Dorothy, had made the big bouquet and had covered it with wet paper so it would keep fresh.  The Little Captain had made certain that her companion would not be disappointed about her white dress, and although Tavia had to stay from school to wash it the day before, Dorothy went over to help her with the ironing, for Mrs. Travers managed somehow, to have an excuse for her failure in getting her daughter ready—­she was that kind of helpless, shiftless person, who rarely had things ready for her children, especially in the matter of Tavia’s clothes.

“Your dress looks real pretty,” declared Dorothy, as the girls hurried along to the school.