“I don’t know what to trust,” confessed Dorothy miserably. “Or which way to turn——”
“Which reminds me,” interrupted Tavia with apparent irrelevance, “that a letter came for you from the wild and woolly West a few moments ago, Doro. I have a sneaking notion it’s from Garry.”
CHAPTER VII
A LETTER FROM GARRY
“Good gracious, why didn’t you tell me that hours ago?” cried Dorothy, rising with an alacrity that made Tavia and Nat exchange amused and sympathetic glances. “I haven’t had a letter from Garry since——”
“Yesterday!” finished Tavia with fine irony, and the corners of Dorothy’s mouth dimpled in a brief smile.
“The day before!” she corrected demurely. “I was beginning to worry.”
She fetched the letter, a bulky, satisfactory-looking epistle from the table in the hall and returned to the living room to read it in comfort.
“I needn’t ask you to excuse me while I examine my mail,” she remarked to the absorbed couple in the window seat. “You are only too glad!”
“My, isn’t she the mean thing!” cried Tavia, not in the least abashed. “Just wait till Garry Knapp comes East again, Doro. Make believe I won’t get even!”
“When Garry comes East again you won’t have any chance to get even with Dot, my dear Tavia,” laughed Nat. “She won’t even know that you and I exist.”