way out of it."

"Oh, Nat, you are a dear!" exclaimed Tavia in real joy. "But I do hate so
to get you into trouble."

"Oh, never mind me," replied the youth good-naturedly. "Guess I'm big
enough to take care of myself. Clear off, now, and when you hear three
toots you will know that is the signal. I'll get ready under pretense of
going into town for something, and it won't take long to get out to
Ferndale."

Tavia ran back to where Dorothy and Mrs. White were busy putting bows of
bright ribbon on gifts, and sealing up parcels with the Merry Christmas
stamps. Her cheeks were blazing and her eyes dancing from pent-up nervous
strain. She grew more nervous each moment. Surely Dorothy would notice it,
she thought. And then, too, Dorothy had told her Miss Brooks had asked to
see her on Thursday. Would she remember that now?

Tavia picked up the unfinished darning bag, but her fingers trembled so
she could scarcely thread her needle. Mrs. White glanced up from her work.

"You have had a lot of trouble with that bag, Tavia, dear," she said, "I
guess you don't like lining things."

"Oh, I don't mind it at all," stammered Tavia, "but, you see, I have had
no practice. I'll know how better next time."

She fancied she heard Nat coming along the drive. Yes, surely that was the
machine. She waited for the toots. Her thimble rolled to the floor. Then
her thread tangled.