Dorothy Dale (A Girl of To-Day) | Page 4

in perfect accord to the music of the Dalton Drum and Fife Corps' "Star Spangled Banner."

CHAPTER II
DOROTHY AT THE OFFICE
Could the sunshine of yesterday be forgotten in the clouds of to-day?
Major Dale was ill. Overfatigue from the long march, the doctor said, had brought on serious complications.
Early that morning after Memorial Day, Aunt Libby called Dorothy to go to her father. The faithful housekeeper had been about all night, for the major had had a high fever, but now, with daylight, came a lowering of temperature, and he wanted Dorothy.
"Now, don't take on when you see him," Aunt Libby told the frightened girl. "Just make light of it and pet him like."
Poor Dorothy! To think her own "Daddy" was really sick--and so many veterans already dead! But she must not have gloomy thoughts, she must be brave and strong as he had always taught her to be.
"Why, Daddy," she whispered, in a strained voice, kissing his hot cheek, "the honors of yesterday were too much for you."
"Guess so, Little Captain, but I'll be on hand at mess time," and he made an effort to look like a well man. "But I tell you, daughter, there's something on my mind; the Bugle should come out to-morrow."
"And so it will. I'll go directly down to the office and tell Ralph."
"Yes, Ralph Willoby is a good boy--the best I have ever had in the Bugle office. And that's why I sent for you so early. I want you to go down to the office and help Ralph."
"Oh, I'll just love to!" and Dorothy was really pleased at the prospect of working on the paper, in spite of the unfortunate circumstance---her father's illness--that gave her the chance.
"Not so fast now. You must pay strict attention--"
"But you are not to talk: you have had a fever, from fatigue, you know, and it might come back. Just let me go to the office and I will promise to return for instructions at the very first trouble Ralph meets."
Dorothy was already on her feet. She knew the very worst thing the major could do in his present condition would be to talk business.
"Now I'm off," she said, with a kiss and an assuring smile, "you will be proud of to-morrow's Bugle. 'All about Memorial Day!' 'Get the Bugle if you want the news!'" she added, in true newsboy style. Then Aunt Libby came in to wait on the major.
But Dorothy's heart was not as light as her smile had been. Her father looked very ill, and the bread and butter of the Dale household depended upon the getting out of the Bugle.
Her brothers, Joe and Roger, had been sent to school early to be out of the way, but to-morrow they might both stay home, thought the sister, for they could help sell papers.
"Father never would let the boys do it," she reflected, "but he is sick now, and we must do the very best we can. If he were ill a long time we would have to get along."
Only waiting to snatch up a sandwich left from her brothers' lunch,--for she knew the noon hour would be a busy time at the Bugle office,-- Dorothy hurried out and over to Tavia's.
"I can't go to school to-day," she called in at the half opened door. "Father is sick, and I must attend to some business for him."
"Bad?" queried Tavia, for she noticed the change in her friend's manner.
"Perhaps not so very. But you know he is seldom sick, and now he has a fever."
"Fever?" echoed Mrs. Travers. "Tavia, close that door this very minute! We cannot afford to catch fevers."
Dorothy felt as if some one had slapped her face. To think of her father giving any one sickness!
"Nonsense, ma," spoke up Tavia. "The major is only ill from walking in the hot sun. Come in, Doro dear, and tell us if we can help you."
"Aunt Libby is alone with him, and when the doctor comes she may need something. If your ma would not be afraid to let Johnnie run over about noon, I would pay him for any errand," spoke Dorothy.
"Oh, certainly, dear," the woman replied, now venturing to poke her uncombed head out of doors, thinking, evidently that the mere mention of money was the most powerful antiseptic known. "Of course Johnnie will be too pleased. I'll send him any time you say."
Secretly glad that her mother had so promptly overcome her fear of the fever, but also ashamed that her motive should be so flagrant, Tavia slipped on her things and joined her companion.
"I wouldn't keep you another minute," she began, "for I know just how anxious you are. But I'm going along to help. I can go on errands at least, and keep you company."
"Oh, Tavia, dear, perhaps you had better go to