Dorothy could scarcely think—she was stunned, bewildered.
The thought of Ned's disapproval of Tom's attention to her seemed the most bitter thought of all.
She did love Ned, her own cousin. How could any girl not appreciate the joy of being a cousin to Ned White?
And that he should misunderstand her! Think her frivolous, and even accuse her of flirting!
Dorothy felt that even The Cedars now belonged to Ned, and she, with her father and brothers, were merely his guests.
How ever could she make him understand?
Why are girls neither women nor children in all the troublesome "between" years?
Then Tavia's troubles. Dorothy had thought to do all Miss Brooks advised, but how could she do so to-night? And the letter Dorothy had given Tavia was certainly from Mr. Travers.
Thoughts of the play, of little Mary's part, then the responsibility of insuring a success, crowded through Dorothy's confused brain.
If the play was a success she had hoped to get little Bennie Baglin into the hospital. He suffered so, and surely could be helped, if not cured, by proper treatment. But the hospital would only accept patients from the Birchlands according as money was contributed from the place, and it would cost considerable to have an incurable (as Bennie was) taken in.