"Comparative degrees, eh?" and she made a queer little face. "Now, Doro dear, you must say I've grown positively handsome. I will never be content with the little, insignificant comparative degree in a suite of rooms like these. Aren't they really scrumptious? You know dad couldn't come, and he was so anxious that we would be comfortable, that the dear old darling just wired for good rooms, and that's how we got these.

They're good, aren't they?"

Dorothy looked out of the broad window, down at the big city stretched before her view. She could not help thinking of Tavia, although she thought it best not to speak of her to Rose-Mary-just yet at least.

Cologne was busy hanging up the things she had pulled out of Dorothy's bag.

"How long can you stay?" she asked, shaking out Dorothy's light blue linen frock.

"Well, it was the queerest thing! Aunt Winnie got it into her head that I needed some of the girls, and she proposed a little trip for me, just as your letter came. It seemed providential."

"Providential? That's what I call dead lucky, girlie. You can't expect a real proper providence to get mixed up in all our little sc.r.a.pes. And, to be honest, I'm just dying for a real genuine sc.r.a.pe. The kind Tavia used to 'hand out' to us at Glenwood."

Dorothy smiled but did not reply. Somehow the idea of Tavia still being kept busy "handing out sc.r.a.pes" struck her as somewhat significant.

Presently the boys returned, which fact was made known by a shrill whistle over the private telephone in the apartment, and Jack's voice following with a command for "Rosie" to come down.

The girls found the three boys and Mrs. Markin waiting for them, Ned and Nat having declined Jack's invitation to take dinner with him at the hotel. They said they had to be off to meet the youths with whom they had arranged to stop while in Buffalo.

Dorothy wanted so much to ask Nat to take her to look for Tavia. She felt she would not sleep until she found the house of Tavia's friend, Grace Barnum, but she was too uncertain of Tavia's whereabouts to say openly that she wanted to go to the address that Nat had brought her from Mrs.

Travers.

The Fire Bird had been left in quarters provided by the boys of the "Get There" club, members of which were to be Ned's and Nat's guests, and the two Birchland youths were thus free to walk about the big city that evening. Perhaps Dorothy might also go for a walk, with Rose-Mary and Jack.

But, Dorothy, as she reflected on this possibility, realized that it would not afford her an opportunity of getting to Grace Barnum's. It would not do for the entire party to go there, Dorothy felt, as she could never allow any one to suspect her anxiety concerning Tavia. Only Nat was in the secret so far, and even he was not made fully aware of all it involved and of its depth-he did not know why Dorothy was so anxious-or that she had any other than a foolish schoolgirl whim urging her on.

So, in spite of all the surroundings and excitement, incident to life in a big hotel with its many strange phases, Dorothy kept turning the question over and over in her mind. How should she go about her search for Tavia? Just as she expected the party planned to go out that first evening of her visit to "look over the town." All were going except Mrs.

Markin, and she consented to let the young folks enjoy themselves without her chaperonage, on account of the circ.u.mstances and the number who were going.

Ned and Nat both essayed to look after Rose-Mary, and this added to the merry-making, since, when one lad would attempt some courtesy the other would immediately undertake to outdo him. Dorothy found Jack Markin splendid company, and this, she told herself, could not be otherwise, since he was brother to Cologne.

At a pretty palm-festooned ice-cream parlor they met a friend of the Markin family, Alma Mason, who was also a visitor in Buffalo. She was bright and interesting, chatting pleasantly on many subjects, until, to Dorothy's surprise, she asked abruptly:

"Do you happen to know a Grace Barnum?"

"No," Dorothy answered, as she felt her face burning with excitement. "I do not know her personally, but she is a friend of a chum of mine."

"The pretty girl, with the golden-brown hair? Oh, I have met her," Alma went on, taking Dorothy's look to signify the correctness of the guess that the "pretty girl with the brown hair" was Dorothy's friend. "Isn't she splendid? Grace was just wild over her-she was so jolly and funny."

That Miss Mason used the past tense Dorothy instantly noticed. Nat was also listening with interest, and he observed the same thing.

"Is she not with Miss Barnum now?" Dorothy found courage to inquire finally.

"No, I think not. I think Grace said she had gone to Rochester. She has, I believe, a friend in that city."

Dorothy was startled at the news that Tavia had left Buffalo. Her heart sank, but she tried to conceal her feelings. Tavia in Rochester! The girl in Rochester was she who had once written Tavia concerning the stage and its attractions. And Tavia possibly was with her, after she had promised to have no further correspondence with that press agent!

The remainder of the evening was like a blank page to Dorothy. She heard and saw what was going on around her, but her heart and her attention was not with the merry little party from the hotel. Jack Markin would have accused her of being dull had he not determined to meet more than half way his sister's estimate of Dorothy Dale. Then too, he reasoned as an excuse for her obvious low spirits, she must be tired after the long, dusty auto run.

The evening pa.s.sed quickly (to all but Dorothy) amid a variety of entertainments, and when the boys from North Birchland said good-night in the hotel office and Rose-Mary had taken Dorothy to her room, it was quite late.

It was a relief, however, Dorothy had to admit to herself at least, and in her heart she was grateful to Mrs. Markin when that lady cautioned the two girls against further talking, and urged Dorothy to go to bed. For Dorothy wanted to be alone and think. She wanted to plan. How should she proceed now? If Tavia was not with Grace Barnum-

But of this she must first make certain, and to do so she would ask Nat to take her to Miss Barnum's house the first thing next morning.

CHAPTER XVII AT THE PLAY

But little light was thrown on the disappearance of Tavia through any information Dorothy could obtain from Grace Barnum. In fact that young lady was quite as puzzled as was Dorothy, and when told that Tavia was not to be found at home a few days previous (this being within the time when Tavia had left Buffalo ostensibly for her residence in Dalton), Miss Barnum wanted to communicate immediately with the missing girl's parents.

Nat, with kind consideration, had declined to step inside when Dorothy called at the Barnum home. He thought he might better give the two young ladies a chance to discuss the situation alone, and so, under pretense of strolling through the little park opposite the house, left Grace and Dorothy together.

It took the girls but a moment to arrive at the same point of interest.

Grace showed keenest anxiety when Dorothy inquired for Tavia, for she had fears of her own-since her friend's visit.

"I must write at once," she insisted. "What would Mrs. Travers think of me if anything happened to Tavia?"

"But I have already begun a letter," stated Dorothy, truthfully enough, "so perhaps I had better make the inquiry. You know how excitable Mrs.

Travers is. Perhaps I could write without causing her any alarm, whereas she would surely expect you to know whether or not Tavia was home. I haven't the slightest doubt but that she is home-now," Dorothy hastened to add. "I am expecting her at North Birchland any day."

This had the effect of putting Grace at her ease. Of course, she reflected, Tavia might even be at the Cedars now, as her mother had given her permission to go about almost as she wished, and she had expected to pay a number of visits to friends, no special time being set for them.

This Grace knew for she had seen a letter to that effect from Mrs.

Travers to Tavia.

"You see," said Dorothy, rising to go, "they have always given Tavia so much her own way. She has been-well, sort of superior to the others at home. That, I think, is a real mistake, for a girl is expected to know more of the world and its ways than is consistent with her actual experience."

"Exactly," admitted Grace. "That is what I thought once when Tavia acted so-well so self-reliant. I do hope she is safe at home. You will let me know, won't you Dorothy? I may call you that, mayn't I? I feel as if I had known you for a long time, as Tavia has talked so much about you."

So the two girls parted, and Dorothy's heart seemed to grow heavier at each new turn in her quest for the missing one.

"Why should Tavia act so?" she asked herself over and over again, as she walked along with Nat who tried to cheer her up.

"If you don't stop worrying, Doro," he counseled as he noted the look of anxiety on her face, "you'll be a sick girl 'way out here in Buffalo."

"I'm going to be excused from the party to-night," she answered. "I really have a headache, and I must have time to write some letters."

"Great headache cure-letter writing. But I suppose you'll not rest until you sift this matter to the very bottom. And, to be honest, Doro, I can't say I blame you. I'd give a whole lot, right now, to know where the wily Tavia tarries."

As discreetly as she could, Dorothy wrote the letter to Mrs. Travers to ask the mooted question. She did not say she had been to Grace Barnum's, but simply inquired for Tavia's address. On an early mail the next day (a remarkable thing for Mrs. Travers to answer a letter so promptly) came the reply that Tavia was at the Barnums! There was some other news of Dalton in the epistle, but that concerning Tavia, which her mother had apparently set down as a matter of fact, stood out prominently from all the rest.

In spite of her fears, when the letter presented the actual fact that Tavia was not at home, and, as Dorothy knew she was not at Grace's, it came like a shock to the girl already in a highly nervous state because of what she had gone through. Hoping against hope she had clung to the slim possibility that some explanation might come from Dalton, but now even this was shattered.

One thing Dorothy quickly decided upon. She must have another talk with Alma Mason, and she must be careful not to excite suspicion as to the real purpose of the conversation.

Realizing at once that she must now move cautiously in the matter, for the slightest intimation that Tavia was away from home and friends, without either the latter or relatives having a clue to her whereabouts, would be sure to ruin Tavia's reputation, Dorothy now determined that even Nat should not know of her plans for continuing the search.

How hopeless Dorothy felt all alone in such a work! But find Tavia she must, and to find her very soon she felt was imperative, for, even in Buffalo, with her friends, Dorothy could see the dangers of a large city to an unprotected and unsuspecting young girl.