“Father never would let the boys do it,” she reflected, “but he is sick now, and we must do the very best we can.  If he were ill a long time we would have to get along.”

Only waiting to snatch up a sandwich left from her brothers’ lunch,—­for she knew the noon hour would be a busy time at the Bugle office,—­ Dorothy hurried out and over to Tavia’s.

“I can’t go to school to-day,” she called in at the half opened door.  “Father is sick, and I must attend to some business for him.”

“Bad?” queried Tavia, for she noticed the change in her friend’s manner.

“Perhaps not so very.  But you know he is seldom sick, and now he has a fever.”

“Fever?” echoed Mrs. Travers.  “Tavia, close that door this very minute!  We cannot afford to catch fevers.”

Dorothy felt as if some one had slapped her face.  To think of her father giving any one sickness!

“Nonsense, ma,” spoke up Tavia.  “The major is only ill from walking in the hot sun.  Come in, Doro dear, and tell us if we can help you.”

“Aunt Libby is alone with him, and when the doctor comes she may need something.  If your ma would not be afraid to let Johnnie run over about noon, I would pay him for any errand,” spoke Dorothy.

“Oh, certainly, dear,” the woman replied, now venturing to poke her uncombed head out of doors, thinking, evidently that the mere mention of money was the most powerful antiseptic known.  “Of course Johnnie will be too pleased.  I’ll send him any time you say.”

Secretly glad that her mother had so promptly overcome her fear of the fever, but also ashamed that her motive should be so flagrant, Tavia slipped on her things and joined her companion.

“I wouldn’t keep you another minute,” she began, “for I know just how anxious you are.  But I’m going along to help.  I can go on errands at least, and keep you company.”

“Oh, Tavia, dear, perhaps you had better go to school.  On account of the trouble yesterday, teacher will think we are both defying her.”

“Then let her send the Lady Sarah to find out,” retorted Tavia.  “I would show her if I had freckles on my tongue.”

“Please don’t talk so, Tavia, it is wrong—­”

“Wrong?  My father says there are some men in this world too mean to bother the law about.  He says he knows one he would like to thresh only he is sure the sneak would not hit him back, but would have him arrested.  Physical punishment is the kind for such, father declares.  And that’s just the way I feel about Lady Sarah.  I would not tell teacher on her, for that would give her a chance to ‘crawl,’ as Johnnie calls being mean.  So sticking my tongue out at her is the nearest I can come to physical punishment.”

This doctrine did not in any way coincide with the upright views of Dorothy, but she knew argument would be useless.  Besides, her head and heart were too full of other things to bother about school girl troubles.