Said you were young, and that perhaps she could help you--"
Tavia seemed to catch her breath. The next moment she had recovered
herself. "I might call--just for fun. Then, again--I might not," she said
indifferently.
"So many queer things contrived to happen," continued Dorothy, noting the
slight agitation her chum betrayed. "The clerk at the jewelry
counter--Miss Allen, the pleasant girl--told me the woman detective, Miss
Dearing, had been discharged."
"Nothing queer about that," exclaimed Tavia. "The wonder is they ever
employed such a person in that capacity. Why, I fancy she would arrest a
baby to fix her case. Too ambitious, I guess."
"Perhaps," acquiesced Dorothy. "But Miss Allen said she asked for my
address. Now, what could she want that for?"
"To apologize, likely. Surely she owes you some sort of apology."
"She was merely mistaken," corrected Dorothy, "and did what she considered
her duty."
"The sweetness of forgiving," soliloquized Tavia.
"Simply a matter of justice," added Dorothy. "But it does seem strange to
me. However, we will have to await developments. Meantime, we must get
ready for Christmas."
"I sent my things off to-day," said Tavia in a relieved tone.
"So early?"
"It is a little early, but they say express packages are always sure to be
delayed at this season, and I would simply not live through it if Johnnie
did not have his steam engine for Christmas morning.
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