Squire Sanders let that horrible man get out of Dalton--the man who
frightened us so!"

"Did he?" replied Dorothy, absently.

"And you knew, of course, about poor Miles Burlock--he died when you
were sick, so I did not tell you anything about it."

"Yes, father told me."

"What are you thinking of, Doro? You are not listening to me at all."

"I have so much to think of," answered Dorothy, smiling. "I can hardly
keep my thoughts in line."

"But you should have seen Alice--Oh, she just pulled the old squire by
the collar. She didn't wait for a man to come. And look at my dress!
Isn't it a sight? I might have known there would be an earthquake or a
fight when I attempted to wear anything like this."

"It is too bad, but that is a straight tear. You can easily mend it."

"But Ralph's eye; that will not darn so neatly. I hope that hateful old
squire never shows his ugly 'phiz-mahogony' in Dalton again."

"Do you think Ralph is much hurt?" Dorothy inquired anxiously. "Wasn't
it disgraceful?"

"Perfectly rambunctious!" declared Tavia, "although it might have been
jolly good fun if Ralph had another fellow in his place--one not quite