"You must to help me, Nat," urged Tavia, when, an hour or so later, she managed to get a word alone with him. "I can never go off alone on an afternoon like this, when every one is so busy."  
"You certainly cannot walk out to Ferndale on a day like this," answered Nat. "I'll have to take you if you must go. But why don't you wait until next week, when we might get a better chance?"
 
"Oh, I simply can't," sighed Tavia. "I feel so mean over the whole thing. And, honestly, I'm so nervous about it. Do you suppose that woman has anything to do with—the matter?"
 
"Seems to understand it, at any rate. It won't do any harm to talk with her. I'll manage to get the machine out, and then, all in a flash, you ask if I won't take you, pretending you did not plan it. I don't see any other way out of it."
 
"Oh, Nat, you are a dear!" exclaimed Tavia in real joy. "But I do hate so to get you into trouble."
 
"Oh, never mind me," replied the youth good-naturedly. "Guess I'm big enough to take care of myself. Clear off, now, and when you hear three toots you will know that is the signal. I'll get ready under of going into town for something, and it won't take long to get out to Ferndale."
 
Tavia ran back to where Dorothy and Mrs. White were busy putting bows of bright ribbon on gifts, and sealing up parcels with the Merry Christmas stamps. Her cheeks were blazing and her eyes dancing from pent-up nervous strain. She grew more nervous each moment. Surely Dorothy would notice it, she thought. And then, too, Dorothy had told her Miss had asked to see her on Thursday. Would she remember that now?
 
Tavia picked up the unfinished darning bag, but her fingers trembled so she could scarcely thread her needle. Mrs. White glanced up from her work.
 
"You have had a lot of trouble with that bag, Tavia, dear," she said, "I guess you don't like things."
 
"Oh, I don't mind it at all," Tavia, "but, you see, I have had no practice. I'll know how better next time."
 
She fancied she heard Nat coming along the drive. Yes, surely that was the machine. She waited for the toots. Her thimble rolled to the floor. Then her thread .
 
Toot! toot! toot!
 
"Are the boys going out?" asked Dorothy suddenly.
 
"I didn't think so," replied Mrs. White.
 
"Oh, I have to go on an errand!" exclaimed Tavia, as if she had just thought of it. "Perhaps Nat will take me. I have a package I have to mail."
 
She was down the stairs before either Dorothy or Mrs. White had a chance to speak. They looked at each other questioningly.
 
"Nat! Nat!" called Tavia from the front door. "Take me! Wait a moment!"
 
She had her things on and was out instantly.
 
"Oh, I'm just scared to death!" she exclaimed as she climbed into the seat beside Nat. "Good-by!" she called up to the window. And then they were off.
 
"Neat little job," exclaimed Nat. "Didn't they ask you where?"
 
"I didn't give them a chance. I just stammered something about a package at the post-office. But, Nat, it is such mean work! I can't bear to deceive Dorothy!" and Tavia felt dangerously like crying.
 
"And do you fool yourself that you are deceiving her?" asked the cousin. "I'll bet she comes pretty near guessing it all, and for my part I cannot see why you do not up and tell her. It is no great crime to——"
 
"Oh, please, don't, Nat!" begged the girl. "It's bad enough, goodness knows, but don't let's go over it again."
 
"The Griswold is quite a place," remarked Nat. "She must either have money, or make money, to put up there."
 
"And I feel that she put that ring in Dorothy's bag. Oh, perhaps she is only trying to get me into some other trouble."
 
"Well, don't get," advised Nat. "I'll be outside within call, and if you get suspicious just raise your finger and I'll be Johnnie on the spot."
 
The Griswold was a large, stone building, originally intended to be used as a handsome private residence, but of late years converted into a rest-resort or sanitarium. Tavia mounted the broad steps timidly and touched the old-fashioned knocker. In a moment a butler appeared and took her card for Miss Brooks, while Tavia waited in the reception-room. She noticed that this apartment was almost overcrowded with gilt-framed pictures, some paintings, others evidently family portraits.
 
Presently Miss Brooks entered. She wore a simple, close-fitting black gown, and Tavia felt that this little woman a powerful personality. She was even inclined to fear her, although this sentiment might be a matter of nervous excitement rather than the result of well-founded .
 
Tavia noticed she was not poorly dressed—she looked very different now; the woman in black on the train had presented such a , worn-out appearance.
 
"Come right up to my room," said Miss Brooks pleasantly. "I received your note, and have been expecting you."
 
Tavia smiled and murmured something as she followed Miss Brooks up the soft, carpeted stairs. At the first landing the woman opened a door, and motioned Tavia to step in. The room was large and well-furnished after the regulation boarding-house plan—dressing-table, desk, couch-bed, and curtained bookcase, but no article of furniture indicated any line of business that might be carried on in the room, Tavia observed.
 
Miss Brooks closed the door gently, but made sure it was well closed. Then she took a chair directly opposite Tavia.
 
"You are Miss Travers," she began in a most business-like way.
 
"Yes," replied Tavia simply.
 
"Well, I asked you to come, Miss Travers, because I felt I could help you. I make few friends—the world played me false long ago—but when I see a young girl like you in danger, I am not too bitter to warn her."
 
"Thank you," Tavia managed to utter.
 
"You no doubt think me a strange woman—every one does—but I have a in traveling about. I had a very dear sister whom I lost years ago. Lately I have learned that she died in this section of the country. She left a child—a baby girl—and I hope some day I may find that child." Miss Brooks paused to cover her eyes with her slim hand. Tavia............