Dorothy Dale's Great Secret

In all this confusion the white-aproned matron forgot to use her telephone. But, as she now assisted the other girls in working over Edna, she directed some of the swimmers, who had come to shore, to look after Tavia.

Lena Berg, the quietest girl of Glenwood, rushed into the bathing office and telephoned to Central to “send doctors.” Almost before those working over Edna and Tavia had realized it, and, almost as soon as the throng of young ladies had started to assist Miss Higley and Dorothy to shore, an automobile with two doctors in it stopped at the gate. The physicians were soon working over Tavia and Edna.

A few seconds later Rose-Mary and Molly pulled up to shore in an old boat they had found anchored near the chute, and in the craft, which they rowed with a broken canoe paddle, were Dorothy and Miss Higley!

As so often happens that one small accident is responsible for any number of mishaps, especially where girls or women become panic-stricken, it seemed now that the rescue of Miss Higley and Dorothy acted like magic to restore all four victims of the water to their senses, at least, if not to actual vigor. Tavia and Edna both jumped up as the boat grounded on the beach, and Miss Higley and Dorothy staggered ashore.

“Be careful,” cautioned one of the physicians, as the teacher was seen to totter, and almost fall. She was plainly very weak, and, while the younger doctor looked after Dorothy the other, who was his father, took Miss Higley into the bathing pavilion office to administer to her there.

Tavia had only fainted. Indeed she had been scarcely able to swim out to help Edna, not being entirely recovered from her recent nervous fever. Edna had swallowed considerable water, but it was fresh, and when she had been relieved of it, and the usual restoratives applied, she, too, was herself again.

Dorothy insisted there was absolutely nothing the matter with her, but it was plain that such physical efforts as she had been obliged to make in her rescue of Miss Higley, must at least exhaust a girl of her frail physique. So young Dr. Morton insisted on her being assisted in a “thorough rub.” Then she was given a warm, stimulating drink, and, soon after that, Dorothy was able to tell what had happened.

An hour later all the brown bathing suits had been discarded, Tavia and Dorothy had been supplied with dry clothing, and all the Glenwood girls who had come to Sunset Lake sat on the rocky shore back of the sand, waiting for the hour to arrive when they must start back to the school. There was no lack of talk to make the time pass quickly.

Miss Higley seemed the least perturbed of any – she had a way of always being beyond a mere personal feeling. She never “allowed herself” to encourage pains or aches; in fact she was one of those strong-minded women who believe that all the troubles of this life are hatched in the human brain, and, therefore the proper cure for all ills is the eradication of the germ producer – sick-thoughts. So, as soon as she felt her lungs in working order again she “took the defensive” as Tavia expressed it, and sat up as “straight as a whip,” with her glasses at exactly the proper pitch and the black cord at precisely the accustomed dangle.

“Mar-vel-ous!” gasped Dick, aside, giving the long word an inimitable roll, and, at the same time, bestowing a wondering look on the recently resuscitated teacher.

“But do tell us,” begged Rose-Mary, “what happened first – of all those exciting things?”

“I did,” answered Edna Black. “I was shooting the chute to my heart’s content, when, all of a sudden, I stuck somewhere. Then, after trying everything I knew how to do to get loose, I said my prayers.”

“Next,” called Rose-Mary, indicating Tavia.

“Well, of course,” began Tavia, “Dorothy and I were not to go near the water, but when we saw Edna turn up missing we just kicked off our slippers and, in the language of the poets, ‘got busy.’ I found Ned here, first shot, stuck in between the two corner boards of the chute posts. She didn’t need any coaxing to come up, once I untangled her skirt from a nail which held it fast, and I brought her up without any unnecessary explanations.”

“And, in the meantime Miss Higley had gone down,” interjected Dorothy. “That is she went down after Edna first.”

“And came up last,” added the teacher, with a significant nod to Dorothy.

“How did you find Miss Higley, Parson?” Rose-Mary continued to question, with a view to getting the entire story.

“I found her in a mud hole, held fast, but able to help herself somewhat. Then I – I got her up – somehow – .”

“Indeed I was almost unconscious until you dragged my head up to the air,” Miss Higley hastened to say, anxious to give Dorothy her due, for certainly the rescue was a matter of heroic effort, and Miss Higley, being heavy, and, at the same time, unable to help herself, gave Dorothy the most difficult of all the surprising tasks of that eventful afternoon.

“But when she sank that time – like a stone,” suggested Dick to Dorothy.

“Oh, I merely missed catching hold of a plank and I had to go down – I couldn’t keep up.”

“Certainly; why not?” put in Nita Brandt, glad to be able to say something “safe.”

“And you, Lispy,” said Lena to Nita. “You and Adele started the epidemic with your water wings. Next time make it life preservers.”

The girlish spirits, “bottled up” during the period of worry came out with a resounding “pop” now, and the walk home proved even pleasanter than the one to the beach.

“For now,” declared Ned, between her jokes, “we are like the man who laughed at the ugly cow from inside the fence – he found it much funnier to laugh at the cow from outside the fence.”

CHAPTER IX

DOROTHY AND TAVIA

For more than a week after the happenings at Sunset Lake the pupils of Glenwood School had little time for anything outside of the regular program of the institution. It was a matter of sleep, eat, exercise, then study and recite, and then the same schedule was begun all over again the following day. But this was the end of the term and so much remained to be done that it was necessary to “keep going” as the girls expressed it, so that the “last day” would find the records of the year’s work up to the usual high standard.

“This mental house-cleaning is perfectly terriblocious!” declared Tavia one morning, showing her aptitude at coining alleged new words, this one being a “contraction” of terrible and ferocious.

“But how nice it will be when we are all done,” Dorothy reminded her, taking up her books and papers, to attend the last exercise in mathematics.

“Perhaps,” sighed Tavia.

The conversation was ended abruptly by the sound of the bell summoning the girls to class, and they went back to the “house-cleaning,” each doing her best to finish honorably, in spite of the difference of their respective motives.

That evening Dorothy and Tavia went to their room early. Tavia seemed tired, and Dorothy did not wish to disturb her by coming in later.

Neither appeared inclined to talk, and, as Tavia went through her elaborate toilet preparations (the facial massage and all the accompaniments) Dorothy watched her in silence.

Strange as it was to believe Tavia so vain, Dorothy had become accustomed to this nightly process, and now accepted it without comment. Neither had she ever told Tavia of that night when, in her sleep, she had gone through the making-up process.

But school would soon be over – and then —

For some time Dorothy had been putting off a talk she desired to have with Tavia – a talk about their vacation plans. Somehow she dreaded to undertake the topic that Tavia had been so obviously avoiding. But to-night Dorothy felt that she must have an understanding – she must know where her room-mate intended to spend her vacation.

Dorothy was just about to broach the subject when Tavia suddenly turned to her with this surprising question:

“Dorothy, do you think I’m pretty?”

“Why, of course you are,” stammered Dorothy. “You know I have always thought you – pretty.”

“But I do not mean what you always thought, Doro. I am awfully serious now. Am I really pretty?”

“I don’t know,” replied her chum. “I could not tell what others might think – but I have always thought you the prettiest kind of a girl – you know that.”

“But do you think that in – in a crowd I might be considered – attractive? Are my features good? Do I look – look interesting?”

This was said with such apparent simplicity that Dorothy almost laughed. There stood a pretty girl – without question a remarkably pretty girl – of a most unusual type – and she was begging for a compliment – no, for an opinion of her personality!

Dorothy did not answer. She could not possibly say that at that moment Tavia was a perfect vision, as she stood in her white robe, with her freshly-brushed hair framing the outline of her sweet, young face. But the girl before the mirror wanted to know.

“Dorothy, do tell me,” she begged. “What do you think? Am I pretty, or not?”

“Tavia,” exclaimed Dorothy suddenly, “tell me, why do you want to know?”

“Why,” and Tavia laughed a little to gain time, “I think any girl ought to know just – what she is like.”

“But all this – this fussing. Why do you do it?”

“To experiment,” and Tavia laughed lightly. “They say one can do wonders with a little care. I am tired of reading that in the magazines so I thought I would just try it.” She had finished with the glycerine and rose water now, so the “stuffs” were put away and Tavia sank down with a “glad-of-it” sigh.