"But there was no train," remarked Nat, waiting for some one from within to open the door in answer to his hasty knock.
"As if I didn't know that, Mr. White," replied Tavia saucily. "Do you suppose I am the kind of girl who rides in a dump-cart in preference to taking a red plush seat in a train?"
By this time the commotion had been heard, and the door was opened by almost the entire family.
"Mercy sakes!" exclaimed Dorothy, dragging Tavia in bodily.
"No mercy about it," objected Tavia, giving Dorothy a peremptory hug. "I'm simply dead and buried, without insurance. Frozen stiff, and disjointed in every limb. Why, I rode here in a dump-cart!"
"Let the girl sit down," interrupted Major Dale, who left his armchair to welcome Tavia. "My, but you are cold! No, don't go too near the fire. Sit here on the couch. Children, run off and fetch a hot drink," he added, for he saw that Tavia was indeed too cold to be safe from possible harmful consequences.
Tavia dropped into the offered seat, and then she saw Nat—in the light.
"Glory be!" she exclaimed, staring at his costume, which he had entirely forgotten. "Is it the plumber?"
"Gas man!" sang out Roger gleefully. "We had just turned the meter on when we heard your noise outside."
Nat was not proud, but he had not calculated on being in overalls when he met Tavia. Ned nearly went in kinks at his brother's discomfiture. Dorothy and Mrs. White had hurried off to fetch warm drinks for Tavia.