CHAPTER XVII
A GIRL'S WEAPON
Tavia's plans took shape next morning—there was nothing visionary about them. She did surprise her father with a neat breakfast table, and Johnnie surprised himself with a clean linen suit.
"Nothing succeeds like success," said the father, pleased and happy that, at last something had "happened" to brighten the make-shift home.
"And when mother comes," Tavia announced, "she will find that I have discovered how to keep house, for I have already provided for dinner. Now Johnnie, be careful that you do me credit—go right straight to school when it's time, and don't, as you value your place in—in—my heart, miss a single lesson!"
"Good!" said the father, actually taking a tiny rosebud from the clean milk bottle, in the center of the table, and putting it in his buttonhole.
"Would it be silly for a boy to wear a flower?" faltered Johnnie, "Joe
Dale often does."
"Indeed every boy in school will know to-day that pop is the 'head constable' so why shouldn't you decorate?" and the sister put in the fresh linen waist a bud that exactly matched the one chosen by the squire.
Mr. Travers recalled that this was the first morning he could remember when his two children sat at table with him. They were always busy or sleeping—any place but where they should be at breakfast time.
"Now, I must see Dorothy before school," said Tavia, leaving the table. "Johnnie, just eat all your toast while I clear up. Then you can bring in fresh water, and some wood to have ready for noon, in case mother should not get home in time to do everything."