"
CHAPTER XXII
STORMBOUND AT TANGLEWOOD
Dorothy dropped the letter in her lap. She was awed, surprised,
distressed. Then, Miss Brooks did not take the ring? And why should the
woman detective do such a thing?
For an instant only that thought occupied her. The next she pitied Miss
Dearing.
"Poor woman!" she sighed to herself. "After all, perhaps she is really a
victim of circumstances. And what a letter! If I only could help her--see
her before Christmas."
A smile, unbidden, stole across Dorothy's face as she pictured all the
tasks she had undertaken to accomplish "before Christmas."
"Luckily there are a few days left," she concluded "One can crowd a great
many things into two real, living days."
She hurried upstairs to read the letter again in seclusion. The positive
tone of sorrow in the missive touched her heart. There certainly did seem
many things to do, but here was plainly an emergency case. If she could
manage to go to the city, obtain Miss Dearing's address from the store, go
to see her, and then stop at Dalton on her way back--"
"I ought to be able to do that," she told herself. "And it would be such a
joy to take away all Tavia's worry before Christmas Day."
Then came the recollection that she really knew nothing to tell Squire
Travers--she really did not know what Tavia's trouble was. All the girl's
conversation on that point amounted to nothing more than inferences, vague
and uncertain.
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