How would she be able to reach Rochester—to leave her cousins and proceed alone in her search for Tavia?
The morning of departure dawned bright and clear, conditions most necessary for a pleasant automobile trip, and when the Markin family waved an affectionate adieu, the Fire Bird puffed away from in front of the hotel, Rose-Mary throwing innumerable kisses to Dorothy. Suddenly, as they swung into the street, Dorothy turned to Ned and asked:
“Ned, could you let me go part of the way home, by train? I did not want to mention it at the hotel as Mrs. Markin would be sure to worry, but I would so like to return by rail. You could just leave me at the depot and then—you might stop for me at—did you say you were going through Rochester on your way back?”
Ned and Nat gazed at their cousin in surprise. What could she mean to ask to leave them and go to North Birchland alone?
“I know you think it strange,” she hastened to add, “but really you know, I am able to travel alone that short distance. You know I came from Glenwood alone.”
“Oh, yes, I know,” replied Nat, “but this time mother put you in our charge and these are big cities around here.”
“But if the auto makes you feel ill,” put in Nat, “of course no one could object to you going by train.”
“I would so much rather,” declared Dorothy, taking advantage of Nat’s ready excuse for her. “I have found that there is a train at eight-thirty. Then, if you pass through Rochester, you could meet me there. I can go to some young women’s club and wait if I do not meet you exactly on time at the station.”
This was a brave stroke, and Dorothy felt that she would not be equal to further argument should the boys offer much more opposition.
“You mean for us to leave you here at the Buffalo depot?” asked Ned in a dazed sort of way.