.

"Oh, I didn't tell you, Tavia," she said quickly. "I had the awfullest
scare the other night. I just stole downstairs to see how Ned was, when
all at once some one rapped at the vestibule door."

Tavia gazed upon Dorothy, pride and admiration beaming in her deep, hazel
eyes.

"Oh, you needn't tell me, Doro," she interrupted. "I saw the midnight
marauder, as the poets say. Lucky for him he stood directly under the
light."

"Wasn't it--wasn't it kind of him to be--so--so anxious?" went on Dorothy,
making fast her scarf picking up her pretty party-bag.

"Perhaps," assented Tavia, smiling broadly.

"Tom's the sort of fellow who dares to do right, no matter what happens.
He would as soon call at midnight as midday, if the occasion warranted
it. And that's saying a good deal for Tom--from me," she concluded.

Nat was waiting at the door. He took particular pains to be nice to Tavia.
In fact, most of the difficulties that had for some weeks been
accumulating about The Cedars seemed to take wings with the occurrence of
Ned's accident. The oft-quoted saying about an "ill wind" was once more
being verified, although it was hard for Ned to be left at home.

The house was already crowded when our friends arrived at Mrs. Brownlie's.

"We will have a good attendance," commented Dorothy with a smile of
satisfaction. "If we can only make our hundred dollars, and then get
little Bennie into the hospital, how lovely it will be!"

"There must be a hundred persons here now," Nat assured her, "and at a
dollar per--"

"Oh, do hurry along," interrupted Eva Brownlie. "We are all waiting for
you, Dorothy. We were worried to death for fear something else dreadful
might have happened."

Eva surely looked like an angel. She was entirely in white, her hair
hanging loosely over her shoulders, with a band of gold, in Roman style,
confining it at her brow.

Roland was dancing attendance on Eva--any one could see that he was
fascinated by the pretty twin. Tom came up to Dorothy as she entered the
broad hall.

"How's the boy?" he inquired kindly. "Has he forgiven me yet?"

"Of course," replied Dorothy, smiling. "He's getting better. But it was
hard to leave him alone with his hurt--and Norah. Not that Norah is to be
classed with the injuries," she hurried to add, laughing merrily.

"They are waiting for the orchestra," Tom reminded her, taking her music
and escorting her to the piano.

The girls, with their violins, were already