"And we have you and you do seem to know," responded the boy, trying the
bow to make sure it would not shoot backwards. "Well, sis, you're a
brick and Tavia, well, she is brick-dust, at any rate, but Jack--well he
is Jack, and that is all there is to it. I'm going to ask father to let
him carry Bugles next week. What little he could earn would do something
for him."

"Mr. Travers is such a nice man," went on Dorothy, "I think Tavia is
exactly like him."

"And Jack is like his mother. But we musn't back-bite," seeing the look
of reproach on Dorothy's face. "I hope you have a jolly good time at the
picnic."

One hour later the girls of Dalton school were crowded around Dorothy,
asking all kinds of well-meant questions concerning her health. Tavia,
too, came in for her share of the queries, although hers did not relate
to health, but to other interesting little confidences, least of which
was, by no means, the new dress.

But the fact that her own cousin Nannie gave it to her put Tavia at ease
and questions that might otherwise seem impertinent were considered
compliments--showing what a "stir" the dress created.

Dorothy looked a trifle pale, and the light blue muslin gown she wore
brought out a mere gleam of the pink flush that usually shown in her
cheeks. Her blonde curls--the delight of all her friends, fell in a mass
about her shoulders, so that even Tavia in the famous pink and white
dress did not outdo Dorothy in pretty looks.