"Maybe that was it. Anyhow, when he spoke the words seemed to evaporate,
and you had to guess what he meant. Likely there's a trail of frozen words
all the way from here to--Mars."

"Hurry a little," urged Dorothy. "I am sure they are all impatient to talk
to you. And the boys are just dying to hear about your adventure."

"All right, Doro, I'm ready. But say!" and Tavia stood still for a moment
"You look--like--a picture in that princess. I do wish I could wear a
'clinger,' but I'm too fat. You have gotten--ahem--prettier in the short
time since I saw you at school. But I don't wonder. Oh, that abominable
old school!"

"Aunt Winnie had this gown made for me last week," replied Dorothy,
ignoring all of Tavia's criticism save that which referred to the blended
gold and white princess. "Isn't it sweet?"

"Matches you as if you had been made for it," replied Tavia, in her way of
saying things backwards. "Your hair seems all of a piece."

"Come on down," called Roger at the foot of the stairs, "It will soon be
bedtime, and we want to hear all about it."

"All right, honey," replied Tavia. "We're coming."

Mrs. White had Tavia's dinner brought into the dining-room, so it was
there, between mouthfuls, that the tardy one tried to tell of her mishap
on the train, and the strange adventure that followed it.