Books in Dorothy Dale series

“There is one thing perfectly delightful about boarding schools,” declared Tavia, “when the term closes we can go away, and leave it in another world. Now, at Dalton, we would have to see the old schoolhouse every time we went to Daly’s for a pound of butter, a loaf of bread—and oh, yes! I almost forgot! Mom said we could get some bologna. Whew! Don’t your mouth water, Dorothy? We always did get good bologna at Daly’s!”

This is the third book in the Dorothy Dale series, written under the house pseudonym of Margaret Penrose. "Girls have to have secrets, or they wouldn't be girls, and we have now got ours." In this, the third book in the Dorothy Dale series, written under the house pseudonym of Margaret Penrose, Dorothy proves herself to be a good friend to Tavia. Amid suspicion and worry for her chum, she undertakes the perilous task of 'rescuing' her and saving her reputation with minimal help from her cousins Nat and Ned White and without spreading her concerns, in the hope they be unfounded.

"And you are quite sure, daddy, I am not dreaming? That I am sitting right here with my arms around your neck, and you have just told me it is all perfectly true?" And, to make still more certain that the whole matter was one of unquestionable reality, the girl gave her parent such a flesh and blood hug that a physical answer came to her question in the shape of a protest from the very wideawake man.

Neither books, papers nor pencils were to be seen in the confused mass of articles, piled high, if not dry, in the rooms of the pupils of Glenwood Hall, who were now packing up to leave the boarding school for the Christmas holidays. “Going home is so very different from leaving home,” remarked Dorothy Dale, as she plunged a knot of unfolded ribbons into the tray of her trunk. “I’m always ashamed to face my things when I unpack.”

Thank you for checking out this book by Theophania Publishing. We appreciate your business and look forward to serving you soon. We have thousands of titles available, and we invite you to search for us by name, contact us via our website, or download our most recent catalogues. “He, he, he!” giggled Tavia. “What is the matter now, child?” demanded Dorothy Dale, haughtily. “There are no ‘hes’ in this lane. The road is empty before us——” “And the world would be, too, if it wasn’t for the possible ‘hes’ that are to come into our lives,” quoth Tavia, with shocking frankness. “You talk like a cave girl,” declared her chum. “Is there nothing on your mind but boys?” “Yes’m! More boys!” chuckled Tavia. “It is June. The bridal-wreath is in bloom. If ‘In spring the young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love,’ can’t our girls’ fancies turn in June to thoughts of white lace veils, shoes that pinch your feet horribly—and can’t we dream of hobbling up to the altar to the sound of Mendelssohn’s march?” “Hobble to the haltar, you mean,” sniffed Dorothy, with her best suffragette air.