"Some one stole them, of course," she ventured.

"One more guess!" smiled Dorothy.

At this the scar on Tavia's neck was discovered.

"Not in a fire?" exclaimed the aunt.

"Exactly," declared Dorothy, and then she told of the railroad accident.

"Why, you poor dear!" sighed Mrs. White to Tavia, "you must be quite ill
from the shock. Get into bed immediately, and I will see how we can
doctor you up," and before Tavia had a chance to protest against the
"treatment" she found herself in bed, shoes and dress off, and wrapped
in a comfortable robe Dorothy had brought in her bag.

"Now," teased Dorothy, "you wanted to know how it feels to be sick. How
do you like it?"

"Best ever," replied the girl in the pillows. "Make it incurable
please."

"Here," announced their hostess, appearing at the door with a steaming
bowl that smelled good. "Just drink this bouillon. I believe that more
lives might be saved by the hot bouillon process than by the reported
efficacy of hot whisky. One stays hot, the other turns into chills. Just
drink this dear, and I will banish Dorothy. I know how she can talk when
one should sleep--she roomed with me one summer," and at this Dorothy
was whisked out of the room by her aunt, and Tavia left to commune with