“Why,” and Tavia laughed a little to gain time, “I think any girl ought to know just—what she is like.”
“But all this—this fussing. Why do you do it?”
“To experiment,” and Tavia laughed lightly. “They say one can do wonders with a little care. I am tired of reading that in the magazines so I thought I would just try it.” She had finished with the glycerine and rose water now, so the “stuffs” were put away and Tavia sank down with a “glad-of-it” sigh.
“Of course,” began Dorothy, breaking into the topic of summer vacation, “you will go home first, before you come to North Birchland. You will want to see everybody in Dalton—I wish I could go along with you. But I have no home in Dalton now.”
“Come with me,” suggested Tavia. “We have plenty of room.”
“Oh, I was only romancing. Of course I should like to see everybody in dear old Dalton, but I have to go to daddy and the boys. Isn’t it splendid to have a vacation? It makes school worth while.”
“Yes,” replied Tavia, vaguely, preparing to turn out the light.
“When do you think you will come to North Birchland?” asked Dorothy directly.
“I can’t tell. I expect to visit Grace Barnum in Buffalo. Her folks are old friends of mother’s. I had a letter from her yesterday, especially inviting me.”
“Oh, did you?” and Dorothy looked surprised. “I did not hear you speak of going to Buffalo. I thought you intended to come to Birchland as soon as you had seen your folks. You know Aunt Winnie expects you. And so do the boys.”