Dorothy Dale at Glenwood School Part 28

"You insist that you saw Dorothy Dale and Octavia Travers alight from a police patrol wagon?" asked Miss Crane severely.

"I do!" answered Viola, as solemnly as if taking an oath.

"And that you were told they had been arrested for some theft? Garden stuff, I believe?"

"I heard Nat White, Dorothy Dale's own cousin, say so," again declared Viola.

"And you had reason to believe he was in earnest?"

"Every reason to believe and know so."

Miss Crane stopped. She had expected Viola to break down on this cross-examination, but evidently her story was not to be shaken.

"Is that all?" asked the girl with a show of hauteur.

"No," said Miss Crane. "I would like you to tell me the whole story."

"And if I refuse?"

"You surely would not risk dismissal?"

"No risk at all, my dear Miss Crane, I court it," and all the Spanish fire of Viola's nature flashed and flamed with her words.

"Viola! Do you know what you are saying?"

"Perfectly. Have you finished with the 'third degree?'"

"Refrain from slang, if you please. I never countenance such expressions."

Viola only smiled. Evidently Miss Crane had reached "the end of her rope."

"And you will make no explanation of why you told such a story to the girls of Glenwood?" and the calm voice of the teacher rang out clearly now. "No other reason to give for depriving one of the sweetest and best of these girls of her happy place among her companions? And that same girl refuses to tell her own story, because of a promise! She must bear all the shame, all the suspicion, all the wrong silently, when everybody knows she is shielding someone. Viola Green, to whom did Dorothy Dale make that promise?"

"How should I know?" replied the other with curled lip.

"Who, then, is Dorothy Dale shielding?"

"Shielding? Why, probably her dear friend, Tavia Travers. I don't know, of course. I am merely trying to help you out!"

That shot blazed home--it staggered Miss Crane. She had never thought of Octavia! And she was so close a friend of Dorothy's--besides being over reckless! It might be that Dorothy was shielding Tavia and that she would not and could not break a promise made to the absent member of Glenwood school.

Miss Crane was silent. She sat there gazing at Viola. Her pink and white cheeks a.s.sumed a red tinge.

Viola was victorious again. She had only made a suggestion and that suggestion had done all the rest.

"I will talk to Mrs. Pangborn," said Miss Crane finally, and she arose and quietly left the room.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE REAL STORY

That night before twelve o'clock a telegram was delivered at Glenwood school. It was for Viola Green and called her to the bedside of her mother. It simply read: "Come at once. Mother very ill."

So the girl who had been tempting fate, who had refused to right a wrong, who had turned a deaf ear to the pleadings of friends and the commands of superiors, was now summoned to the bedside of the one person in all the world she really loved--her mother!

Viola grasped the message from the hands of Mrs. Pangborn herself, who thought to deliver it with as little alarm as possible. But it was not possible to deceive Viola. Instantly she burst into tears and moans with such violence that the princ.i.p.al was obliged to plead with the girl to regard the feelings of those whose rooms adjoined hers. But this did not affect Viola. She declared her darling little mother would be dead before she could reach her, and even blamed the school that marked the distance between the frantic daughter and the dying parent.

How bitterly she moaned and sobbed! What abandon and absolute lack of self-control she displayed, Mrs. Pangborn could not help observing.

This was the character Viola had fostered, and this was the character that turned upon her in her grief and refused to offer her sympathy or hope.

"You should try to control yourself, Viola," said Mrs. Pangborn gently.

"You will make yourself ill, and be unfit for travel."

But all arguments were without avail. The girl wept herself into hysterics, and then finally, overcome with sheer exhaustion, fell into a troubled sleep.

On the first train the next morning Viola left Glenwood. It was Dorothy who helped her dress and pack, and Dorothy who tried to console her.

At one moment it did seem that Dorothy had finally reached the heart of the strange girl, for Viola threw her arms about the one who had made such sacrifices for an unrelenting pride, and begged she would pray that the sick mother might be spared.

"If she is only left to me a little longer," pleaded Viola, "I will try to be satisfied, and try to do what is right. Oh, I know I have done wrong," she wailed. "I know you have suffered for me, but, Dorothy, dear, you did it for my mother, and I will always bless you for it. If I had time to-day I would try--try to clear you before the girls."

"Then I will make the explanation," said Dorothy, relieved to feel that at last she might speak for herself.

"Oh, please don't," spoke up Viola again, not quite sure that she was willing to be humiliated in spite of the words she had just spoken.

"Try to forgive me, and then what does it matter about the others?"

So Viola Green pa.s.sed out of Glenwood, and left Dorothy Dale praying that the sick woman might be spared.

"I could not do anything against her," Dorothy reflected. "Poor girl, she has enough to bear! It must be righted some day--oh, yes, some day it must all come right. Another Power looks after that."

A long letter from home, from Major Dale, was brought to Dorothy on the early mail. This cheered her up and reflected its smiles of happiness on all the school day.

The major told how well the boys were; how they longed to see Dorothy, and how little Roger had saved all his kindergarten cards and pictures for her. Besides these a wonderful house made of toothpicks and stuck together with green peas was in imminent danger of collapse if Dorothy did not hurry up and come home. Then Aunt Winnie had planned a surprise for all her children who were away at school, the letter also stated, and on the list, for the good time promised, were Dorothy, Tavia, Nat, Ned, Joe (and of course little Roger), besides a guest that each of these mentioned would be allowed to invite home for the holiday. Easter was only a few weeks off.

The day pa.s.sed quickly indeed. Spring sunshine had come, everything had that waiting look it takes on just before the buds come, and Dorothy was almost happy. If only everybody could know that she and Tavia had not done wrong and had not been in disgrace!

The cla.s.ses were dismissed and Dorothy was up in her room reading her father's letter for the third time.

There was a rush through the hall! Then the girls' voices in laughter stopped exactly at her door!

The next minute Tavia bolted into the room.

"Not a soul to meet me!" she began cycloning around and winding up with crushing Dorothy. "Oh, you old honey-girl!" and Tavia kissed her friend rapturously. "I have been dead and buried without you. Run away, little girls (to those peeping in at the door). Run away--we're busy."

Dorothy was so surprised she just gazed at Tavia, but a world of love and welcome went out in the look. "If we had known you were coming,"

she faltered.