Dorothy had thought to do all Miss Brooks advised,
but how could she do so to-night? And the letter Dorothy had given Tavia
was certainly from Mr. Travers.
Thoughts of the play, of little Mary's part, then the responsibility of
insuring a success, crowded through Dorothy's confused brain.
If the play was a success she had hoped to get little Bennie Baglin into
the hospital. He suffered so, and surely could be helped, if not cured, by
proper treatment. But the hospital would only accept patients from the
Birchlands according as money was contributed from the place, and it would
cost considerable to have an incurable (as Bennie was) taken in.
But Dorothy had quietly planned his Christmas. She had saved a little tree
from the decorating greens, and had already gathered and bought enough
trinkets to trim it.
"If only Ned is not badly hurt," she prayed as the night grew very late.
"I do wish they would come."
The sound of automobile wheels on the path answered her wish. The next
moment she was at the door.
"Open both doors," Mrs. White said to Major Dale, who stood beside
Dorothy. "He cannot walk, and must not be jarred."
Mrs. White's voice betrayed excitement and anxiety. Dorothy was too
anxious to speak--she dreaded to know the actual trouble.
Tom and Dr. Whitethorn carried the injured boy into the library.
"How's that?" asked the doctor as Ned fell back amid the cushions of a
couch.
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