"She merely said you were in some difficulty and asked me to advise you—to tell your father all about it," Dorothy said cautiously.
"Miss Brooks has no right to interfere!" snapped Tavia, immediately taking offense. "Advice is always cheap!"
"But she surely did it out of kindness," continued Dorothy, "and she really seemed very much concerned."
"I don't want to hear or know anything more about that—person. She is evidently trying to cover up her little mistake in putting a ring in the wrong bag. She knows absolutely nothing about me—she is merely guessing."
Tavia felt she was making bad worse; it was not a time to attempt further deception. But somehow the idea of Miss Brooks speaking to Dorothy angered her—she was the one to do that. Then followed the accusing voice of conscience:
"But why did you not do so? Why do you not do so now?"
"I suppose she told you that I——"
"She told me nothing," interrupted Dorothy, "but that you had made some mistake in a money matter and then suggested that the way for you to rectify it would be to write to your father and tell him all about it."
"I wonder she did not essay to do that herself—she seems perfectly qualified to attend to it all for me."
"Now, Tavia," began Dorothy, assuming a voice at once commanding and kind, "it is utterly useless for you to take that view of the matter. If you dislike Miss Brooks' interference, pay no attention to it. Do what you think best. Look the whole question squarely in the face, and then decide."