f I
could do that!"

"Why couldn't you?" asked Nat pointedly.

"Oh, I am just sick of it all," replied Tavia helplessly. "I want to drop
it. I see no good in keeping it up now."

"Well, Tavia," said Nat not unkindly, but with more determination than it
was usual for him to show, "I don't believe in letting money go as easily
as all that, and if there is any possibility of us recovering it, it is
'up to us' to try. You know I am no 'knocker,' but I would rather have my
'tenner' than that slip of baby-blue paper."

Tavia did not answer. She was beginning to feel the consequences of her
error. She never could stand being thus obligated to Nat--and she a guest
at his house! Her humiliation was crushing. Nat had never spoken to her
that way before.

The ride home was made with little conversation. Tavia was planning; Nat
was evidently thinking very seriously about something--something he could
not care to discuss.

All the Christmas preparations had lost interest for Tavia now, and when,
that afternoon, Dorothy and Mrs. White went on with their work of love,
she sat up in her own room writing and re-writing a letter. Finally it
read:

"DEAR OLD MUMSEY: I hope you have received your pin,
and that you have carefully hidden away Johnnie's steam engine.
I know he will be delighted with it. Now, mumsey, dear, I have a
great favor to ask. Could you possibly let me have five dollars
more? I will send it back before my holiday is over, because I
only want to lend it to some one, and I am sure to get it back.
But, you see, no one has ever asked such a favor of me before,
and I do wish I could accommodate them. Don't say anything to
dad about it, but just send it along if you possibly can, and I
will surely send it back very soon. I am having a lovely time,
but feel I ought to be home with you all for my real Christmas.

"Lovingly, your daughter,

"OCTAVIA."

"There," she finished, "I guess that will do. I do hate to bother poor,
darling, little hard-working mother, but what can I do? Perhaps I will be
home for Christmas, too."

Then she wrote another letter--to her father. She made the same request,
couched in different terms. Perhaps they would each send the money, and
then she could pay Nat.

CHAPTER XV

DOROTHY AS A COMFORTER

Roland Scott and Tom Jennings were on hand that evening, when th