Dorothy Dale at Glenwood School Part 25

"How foolish, child. It might have been a joke--Tell me about it!"

"If you would excuse me, Mrs. Pangborn, and not think me rude, I would rather not," said Dorothy, her cheeks aflame.

"Not tell me!" and the lady raised her eyebrows. "Why, Dorothy! Is there any good reason why you do not wish to tell me?"

"Yes, I have made a promise. It may not be of much account, but, if you will excuse me, it would relieve me greatly not to go over it."

Mrs. Pangborn did not answer at once. For a girl to admit she had ridden in a police van and for that girl to be Dorothy Dale! It seemed incredible.

"Dorothy," she began, gravely, "whatever may be back of this, I am sure you have not been at fault--seriously at least. And since you prefer not to make me your confidant I cannot force you to do so. I am sorry.

I had expected something different. The young ladies will scarcely make apologies to you under the circ.u.mstances."

She made a motion as if to dismiss Dorothy. Plainly the head of Glenwood School could not be expected to plead with a pupil--certainly not to-day, when her new and poignant grief could not be hidden.

"I shall say to the young ladies," said the teacher, finally, "that they are to show you all the respect they had shown you heretofore.

That you have done nothing to be ashamed of--I am sure of this, although you make the matter so mysterious. I would like to have compelled the girl who spread this report to make amends, but I cannot do that. You do not deny her story."

At that moment Dorothy saw, or at least guessed, what it all meant.

That had been the story of her trouble! It was that which made the girls turn their backs on her--that which had almost broken her heart.

And now she had put it out of her power to contradict their charges!

Mrs. Pangborn had said "good morning," Dorothy was alone in the corridor. She had left the office and could not now turn back!

Oh, why had she been so easily deceived? Why had Viola made her give that promise? Surely it must have been more than that! The story, to cause all the girls to shun her! And perhaps Mrs. Pangborn believed it all! No, she had refused to believe it. But what should Dorothy do now?

Oh, what a wretched girl she was! How much it had cost her to lose Tavia! Tavia would have righted this wrong long ago. But now she stood alone! She could not even speak of leaving the school without strengthening the cruel suspicion, whatever it might be.

What would she do? To whom would she turn?

Heart-sick, and all but ill, Dorothy turned into her lonely little room. She would not attempt to go to cla.s.ses that morning.

CHAPTER XX

SUSPICIONS

"What did she say?" eagerly asked a knot of girls, as Viola Green made her appearance the morning after her interview with the head of Glenwood school.

"Humph!" sniffed Viola, "what could she say?"

"Did she send for Dorothy?" went on the curious ones.

"I have just seen her step out of the office this minute and she couldn't see me. Her eyes wouldn't let her."

"Then she didn't deny it!" spoke Amy Brook. "I could scarcely make myself believe that of her."

"Ask her about it, then," suggested Viola, to whom the term brazen would seem, at that moment, to be most applicable.

"Oh, excuse me," returned Amy. "I never wound where I can avoid it.

The most polite way always turns out the most satisfactory."

"And do you suppose she is going to leave school?" asked Nita Brant, timidly, as if afraid of her own voice in the matter.

"She told me so last night," said Viola, meekly. "I don't blame her."

"No," said a girl with deep blue eyes, and a baby chin, "I do not see how any girl could stand such cuts, and Dorothy seemed such a sweet girl."

"Better go and hug her now," sneered Viola, "I fancy you will find her rolled up in bed, with her red nose, dying for air."

"It is the strangest thing--" demurred Amy.

"Not at all," insisted Viola, "all sweet girls have two sides to their characters. But I am sick of the whole thing. Let's drop it."

"And take up Dorothy again?" eagerly asked Nita.

"Oh, just as you like about that. If you want to a.s.sociate with girls who ride in police wagons--"

"Well, I do want to!" declared Nita, suddenly. "And I don't believe one word against Dorothy Dale. It must be some mistake. I will ask her about it myself."

"If you wish to spare her you will do nothing of the kind," said Viola.

"I tell you it is absolutely true. That she has just this minute admitted it to Mrs. Pangborn. Don't you think if it were a mistake I would have to correct it, when the thing has now been thoroughly investigated?"

It was plain that many of the girls were apt to take Nita's view. They had given the thing a chance to develop, and they were satisfied now that a mistake had been made somewhere. Of course the clever turns made by Viola, kept "the ball rolling."

"There's the bell!" announced Amy, reluctantly leaving the discussion unfinished. This was the signal for laying aside all topics other than those relative to the curriculum of Glenwood, and, as the girls filed into the chapel for prayers, more than one missed Dorothy, her first morning to absent herself from the exercise.

Miss Higley was in charge, Mrs. Pangborn also being out of her accustomed place.

Directly after the short devotions there was whispering.

"Young ladies!" called the teacher, in a voice unusually severe, "you must attend strictly to your work. There has been enough lax discipline in Glenwood recently. I will have no more of it."

"Humph!" sniffed Viola, aside, "since when did she buy the school!"

Miss Higley's eyes were fastened upon her. But Viola's recent experiences had the effect of making her reckless--she felt quite immune to punishment now.

"Attend to your work, Miss Green!" called Miss Higley.

"Attend to your own," answered Viola under her breath, but the teacher saw that she had spoken, and knew that the remark was not a polite one.

"What did you say?" asked the teacher.

"Nothing," retorted Viola, still using a rude tone.

"You certainly answered me, and I insist upon knowing what you said."

Viola was silent now, but her eyes spoke volumes.