“She doesn’t know it now,” retorted Tavia, with a meaning glance at her chum who was completely absorbed in Garry’s letter.
“Well, can you blame her?” Nat’s voice had softened until it reached only Tavia’s ears. “She’s got what we have and—it’s a pretty good thing to have, isn’t it, girl?”
“Nat, I never knew I was living before,” confessed Tavia softly, and after that it was very lucky for them that Dorothy was too absorbed in her letter to notice them!
Garry was well. So much Dorothy learned from the letter, written in his usually cheery vein. But, though he actually said little about it in words, Dorothy could read between the lines well enough to see that something was worrying him. He spoke lightly in one place of the “gang” that was trying to “get fresh” with him and “put a spoke in his wheel.”
Although he spoke lightly of the whole affair, Dorothy sensed the fact that he was worried and was correspondingly anxious. If she could only see Garry for a few moments she would worm the whole thing out of him—for she knew how.
If she could only see him for a few moments! The thought and wish formed itself in her mind and became a longing so acute that it was almost pain.
To see Garry, just for a little while. To lean upon his strength, to ask his advice and follow it. She knew she could do that without question. Garry’s advice was always sound.
To have him with her! And she could effect this desired result by a mere gesture! There was something thrilling in that thought. A telegram to far-off Desert City and Garry would be at her side as soon as trains could get him there.
It was a tempting vision but, as she knew, a selfish one.
Garry was having his hands full attending to his own affairs. Why should she trouble him with her worries?