Mrs. White was startled. Certainly Mary was delicate in appearance, but
she had not thought of her as having a disease.

"There's no time to spare in her case," said the physician in a low
voice. "Bring her to me as soon as you can."

"Dorothy did not expect to have a real case assisted so promptly,"
remarked Mrs. White. "It is rather out of the ordinary--a patient playing
for her own benefit."

"I suspect that your pretty niece brought this child out with the sole
purpose of making her happy," said Dr. Baker, "and she evidently has no
idea how much real happiness she is destined to confer on her. Perhaps a
month later it would have been too late to save her. Now I think we can,
though there is a flush on her cheeks that I do not like."

The curtains were separated to disclose the last number. It was a tableau
of all the girls and boys, posing as the "Haymakers." It made a beautiful
picture, the girls in their gaily-colored dresses, with great,
broad-brimmed hats, and the boys dressed in equally rural costumes.

Dorothy was so glad that it was all over--that this was the last picture.
Agnes stood next to her. The curtains were drawn, and then separated again
in response to insistent applause. There was a moment more of posing, and
then it was all over.

As the curtain shut out the sight of the audience, Agnes slipped her arm
around Dorothy's waist. Then she leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"I am sorry to have made all that fuss about--about him kissing me. But,
Doro, dear, I do hate a flirt, and everybody knows Tom Scott is in love
with you."

CHAPTER XXI

A STRANGE CONFESSION

Had Agnes actually struck her, Dorothy could not have been more surprised.
In the excitement and confusion of the finish of the performance, there
was neither the time nor the opportunity for Dorothy to resent such a
remark. But after she had reached The Cedars and her quiet, little room,
the words seemed to burn themselves into her mind. How dared any one to
speak so to her--a mere schoolgirl, with no thoughts of love?

Pained and distressed, she put aside all the play finery and threw herself
across the bed. Scarcely had she done so ere she heard her aunt's step
approaching.

"I came to congratulate you, my dear," said Mrs. White warmly. "Most of
the success of the entertainment was due to-- Why--what--you are almost
crying," and she stopped in some confusion.

"Oh, aunty!" wailed Dorothy. "I seem to be so misund