“And may I go to North Birchland?” asked Dorothy.
“If you think it necessary, of course,” replied Mrs. Pangborn, “but you cannot afford to leave your school work unless it is necessary,” she finished.
“I will make it up,” agreed Dorothy. “I feel I must talk to Aunt Winnie. She will know exactly what is best to do.”
“I am sure I can depend upon you to do your best,” replied the president.
“I suppose,” ventured Dorothy, “it would not be possible to take Miette along? She has been almost ill, you know, and if she could do better work after the change—”
“Oh, you dear little schemer!” said Mrs. Pangborn, smiling. “Here, you have arranged it all. You are to carry Miette off to North Birchland, and then you are to fix it up for the queer boy. Why, my dear, I do not see why you take other people’s troubles so seriously,” and Mrs. Pangborn gave her a reassuring glance. “But I must not forget,” she hurried to add, “that it was I who imposed Miette’s worries upon you.”
“I am sure it was no trouble at all,” declared Dorothy, “and I love to do what I can—”
“Exactly. It is a case of willing hands. Well, my dear, if you really must go to North Birchland, I can’t see but the trip would serve to—straighten out Miette. In fact, you will be near New York, and it might be just possible that Mrs. White would be kind enough to make some inquiries for me. It is really quite impossible for me to go to New York at present.”
“I am sure she would be glad to,” answered Dorothy. “We always go to New York when I am home.”
So the interview ended, and Dorothy found herself plunged deeper than ever into the mysteries of others’ affairs.