“But I am sure it is you who are missed,” replied Miette, who did not attempt to conceal her pleasure at the tone of Tavia’s letter. “I do not see how they get on without you at all.”
“Oh, indeed,” replied Dorothy, “Glenwood girls are quite capable of taking care of themselves, and they have a particular faculty of being independent of persons and things.”
“I hope I shall be able to stay—allowed to stay, I mean,” said Miette, thoughtfully. “I am so nervous about the lawyer’s visit.”
“No need to be,” Dorothy told her. “I am sure everything will be all right—I can tell by Aunt Winnie’s manner that she expects some pleasant news.”
“And if I do stay at Glenwood, and have the pleasure of visiting with you again,” said Miette, “will you come again with me to New York to look for Marie?”
“I’ve got a better plan,” replied Dorothy, “but you mustn’t ask about it yet—the plans are not fully developed.”
“Oh, do tell me?” pleaded Miette, “If it’s about Marie I cannot wait for plans to develop.”
“Well, it includes Marie—I hope,” said Dorothy, with a mischievous shake of her pretty head. “The fact is, I am begging Aunt Winnie to let me turn the Cedars into a Social Settlement—ask some lonely and otherwise ‘abused’ girls to spend their vacation here.”
“Oh, how splendid!” exclaimed Miette, “I know two other very nice girls who worked in the store—they are poor, but—”
“Poverty is no objection,” declared Dorothy. “The fact is, Dad says I have made so many acquaintances in the past few years we ought to have a reunion. I have always loved the social settlement idea, and I’m going to try it on.”