But little did she know how Viola Green could hurt Dorothy Dale. Less did she think how serious could be the "hurt" inflicted.
The mid-year examinations had passed off, and the Dalton girls held their own through the auspicious event. Dorothy showed a splendid fundamental education; that which fits a girl for clear study in subsequent undertakings, and that which is so often the result of the good solid training given in country schools where methods are not continually changing. Tavia surprised herself with getting through better than she had hoped, and credited her good luck to some plain facts picked up in the dear old Dalton schoolroom.
But a letter from home disturbed Tavia's pleasant Glenwood life—her father wrote of the illness of Mrs. Travers and said it was necessary that their daughter should come home. For a few weeks only, the missive read, just while the mother had time to rest up and recover her strength—the illness was nothing of a serious nature.
It did not seem possible that Tavia was packed and gone and that Dorothy was left in the school. A sense of this loneliness almost overpowered Dorothy when she realized that her sister-friend was gone—and the little bed across her room all smooth and unruffled by the careless, jolly girl who tried to make life a joke and did her best to make others share the same opinion.
It was Rose-Mary who came to cheer Dorothy in the loss of Tavia. She sat with her evenings until the very last minute, and more than once was caught in the dark halls, the lights having been turned out before the girl could reach her own quarters.
Rose-Mary and Dorothy had similar fancies. Both naturally refined, they found many things to interest them—things that most of the girls would not have bothered their pretty heads about. So their friendship grew stronger and their hearts became attuned, each to the other's rhythm, until Dorothy and Rose-Mary were the closest kind of friends.
Mrs. Pangborn had decided upon a play for mid-year. It would be a sort of trial for the big event which always marked the term's close at Glenwood and the characters would embrace students from all departments. The play was called Lalia, and was the story of a pilgrim on her way, intercepted by a Queen of Virtue and again sought out by the Queen of Pleasure. The pilgrim is lost in the woods of doubt, and finally brought to the haven of happiness by the Virtuous Queen Celesta. This Pilgrim's Progress required many characters for the queen's retinues, besides the stars, of course, and the lesser parts.
Dorothy was chosen for Lalia—the best character.
The part had been assigned by vote, and Dorothy's splendid golden hair, coupled with that "angelic face," according to her admirers, won the part for her. Rose-Mary Markin was made Celesta, the Queen of Virtue: and Viola Green, because of her dark complexion, being opposite that of Celesta, was elected to be Frivolita, the Queen of Pleasure.
Each queen was allowed to select her own retinue—a delicious task, said the ones most interested.