her perfectly.

"But how ill she looks!" answered Dorothy. "Perhaps her mind is
not--right."

"Perhaps," acquiesced Tavia. "But I wish she would turn those black eyes
in the other direction. She makes me creep."

Dorothy tucked her little purse away securely, and once more consulted her
memorandum.

"I must get a little more ribbon for Aunt Winnie's bag," she began, "and
I must not forget about Joe's magnifying glass. He is so fond of his
nature work at school it will be useful as well as enjoyable. Then Roger's
steam engine. I wonder do boys ever outgrow steam engines?"

"I promised Johnnie one," said Tavia before she could repress the
exclamation. But the next instant she realized her mistake in mentioning
home things.

"Then we will get them both alike," said Dorothy, all enthusiasm. "The
boys are both the same age, and what one would like the other would love.
Oh, isn't it just splendid to have little brothers to get toys for? After
all, the toys are the best part of Christmas."

Tavia wanted to speak then--it was the time to tell Dorothy, the very
opportunity for confessing the whole miserable affair. But what would
Dorothy think? She never made such blunders, if it might be called by so
charitable a name. And Dorothy had always warned her against writing
letters to strangers. Oh, if she had only taken that advice! If she had