again, even if I do live so near it as our mountain."

Home through the twilight they drove, for kindly Seth couldn't abridge
for his beloved young folks that long, delightful day; and they were
ready to declare, most of them, that even the circus to come could
hardly be more enjoyable than this day's "Headquartering" had been.

It was then, on that happy return, that Dorothy had found the telegram
awaiting, and had caught it up with a loving thought of her indulgent
Aunt Betty. Then her happiness dashed as by cold water she had flown
out of the room and shut herself in her pretty chamber to cry and feel
herself the most unhappy girl in all the world.

Twice had Norah come to her door to summon her to supper before she
felt composed enough to go below among her guests.

Over and over she assured herself that none of them should ever know
how badly she had been treated. Nobody, of course, except Alfaretta,
and the first thing that girl would be sure to ask would be:

"Have you caught your hare?" In other words: "Did she send the money?"

But in this she did poor Alfy great injustice. It had needed but one
glance to tell her--being in the secret--what sort of an answer had
come to Dorothy by way of that unexplained yellow envelope. Well, it
was too bad! After all, Mrs. Betty Calvert must be a terribly stingy
old woman not to give all the money she wanted to her new-found, or
new-acknowledged great niece! Huh! She was awful sorry for Dolly
Doodles, to have to belong to just--great aunts! She'd rather have Ma
Babcock, a thousand times over, than a rich old creature like Dolly
had to live with. She would so!

Therefore it was not at all of news from town that warm-hearted
Alfaretta inquired, as Dorothy at last appeared in the supper room,
but with an indifferent glance around:

"Why, where's Jane Potter?"

CHAPTER X

MUSIC AND APPARITIONS

Where, indeed, was good Jane Potter! The least troublesome, the most
self-effacing, staidest girl of them all.

"Didn't she ride home with _you_?"

"Why no. I supposed she did with _you_. That is--I never thought."

"But--somebody should have thought!" cried Dorothy, diverted from her
own unhappiness by this strange happening.

"Yes, and that 'somebody' should have been myself," admitted Mr. Seth,
after question had followed question and paling faces had turned
toward one another.

"Are you sure she isn't in her room?" asked Helena.

"Sure as sure. I thought it