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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/36823-0.txt b/36823-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..51850e8 --- /dev/null +++ b/36823-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6900 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Marjorie Dean, High School Junior, by Pauline Lester + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Marjorie Dean, High School Junior + +Author: Pauline Lester + +Release Date: July 23, 2011 [EBook #36823] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank, Katherine Ward and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Illustration: MARJORIE ENTERED HER MOTHER’S ROOM AND DROPPED +DISPIRITEDLY AT HER FEET.] + +- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - + + MARJORIE DEAN + + High School Junior + + By PAULINE LESTER + + AUTHOR OF + + “Marjorie Dean, High School Freshman” + “Marjorie Dean, High School Sophomore” + “Marjorie Dean, High School Senior” + + A. L. BURT COMPANY + + Publishers—New York + +- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - + + Copyright, 1917 + By A. L. Burt Company + + MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR + +- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - + MARJORIE DEAN, + HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR + + + + +CHAPTER I—MARJORIE DECLARES HERSELF + + +“Only to think, next week, at this time, I’ll be saying good-bye to you, +Mary Raymond.” Marjorie Dean’s brown eyes rested very wistfully on the +sunny-haired girl beside her in the big porch swing. + +“You know now, just how dreadfully I felt two years ago when I had to +keep thinking about saying good-bye to you,” returned Mary in the same +wistful intonation. “It was terrible. And after you had gone! Well—it +was a good deal worse. Oh, Marjorie, I wish I could live this last year +over again. If only——” + +Marjorie laid light fingers on Mary’s lips. “You mustn’t speak of some +things, Lieutenant,” she said quickly. “If you do I won’t listen. Forget +everything except the wonderful summer we’ve had together.” + +Mary caught the soft little hand in both hers. “It _has_ been +wonderful,” she agreed rather unsteadily. “I’ll have the memory of it to +treasure when I’m away off in Colorado. I can’t believe that I am really +going so far away from you. I hope I’ll like the West. Next summer you +must come out there and visit me, Marjorie. By that time I’ll be a +little bit at home in such a strange, new country.” + +“I’d love to do that,” responded Marjorie with an eagerness that merged +almost immediately again into regretful reflection. + +A sad little silence fell upon the two in the porch swing. Each young +heart was heavy with dread of the coming separation. This was the second +time in two years that the call to say farewell had sounded for Marjorie +Dean and Mary Raymond. + +Those who have followed Marjorie Dean through her freshman and sophomore +years at high school are already familiar with the details of Mary’s and +Marjorie’s first separation. In “Marjorie Dean, High School Freshman,” +was recorded the story of the way in which Marjorie had come to leave +her chum at the beginning of their first year in Franklin High School, +in the city of B——, to take up her residence in the far-off town of +Sanford, there to become a freshman at Sanford High. In her new home she +had made many friends, chief among them Constance Stevens, to whom she +had been greatly drawn by reason of a strong resemblance between +Constance and Mary. In an earnest endeavor to bring sunshine to the +former’s poverty-stricken lot she had thereby involved herself in a +series of school-girl difficulties, which followed her throughout the +year. True to herself, Marjorie met them bravely and conquered them, one +by one, proving herself a staunch follower of the high code of honor she +had adopted for her own. + +With the advent of Mary Raymond into her home for a year’s stay, +Marjorie was confronted by a new and painful problem. “Marjorie Dean, +High School Sophomore,” found Marjorie enmeshed in the tangled web which +Mary’s jealousy of Constance Stevens wove about the three girls. Led +into bitter doubt of Marjorie by Mignon La Salle, a mischief-making +French girl who had made Marjorie’s freshman days miserable, Mary +Raymond had been guilty of a disloyalty, which had come near to +estranging the two girls forever. It was not until their sophomore year +was almost over that an awakening had come to Mary, and with it an +earnest repentance, which led to equity and peace. + +It was to this which Mary had been about to refer mournfully when +Marjorie’s gentle hand had sealed her repentant utterance. All that +summer the two girls had been earnestly engaged in trying to make up for +those lost days. Constance and Mary were now on the most friendly terms. +The three had spent an ideal month together at the seashore, with no +hateful shadow to darken the pleasure of that delightful outing. Later +Constance had left them to spend the remainder of her vacation with her +family in the mountains. The Deans had lingered in their seaside cottage +until the last of August. Now September had arrived, her hazy hints of +coming Autumn reminding the world at large that their summer playtime +was over. + +To Mary Raymond it was a pertinent reminder that her days under the +Deans' hospitable canopy were numbered. In fact, only seven of them +remained. On the next Friday morning she would say her last farewells to +speed away to Denver, Colorado, where, on her invalid mother’s account, +the Raymonds were to make their home. So it is scarcely to be wondered +at that Marjorie and Mary were decidedly melancholy, as they sat hand in +hand, bravely trying to meet the trial which lay before them. + +“I wonder if Jerry will come home to-day.” Marjorie rose from the swing +with an abruptness that set it to swaying gently. The weight of parting +had grown heavier during that brief silence and she was very near to +tears. + +“I don’t know. Her letter said Thursday or Friday, didn’t it?” Mary’s +voice shook slightly. She, too, was on the verge of a breakdown. + +“Yes.” Marjorie’s back was toward Mary as she answered. She walked to +the end of the spacious veranda and gazed down the pebbled drive. Just +then she felt as though the sight of Geraldine Macy’s round, +good-humored face would be most welcome. Slowly returning to where Mary +still sat, she said: “As this is Friday, Jerry will surely——” + +“Marjorie!” called a clear voice from within the house. “The telephone +is ringing.” + +“Coming, Captain!” Marjorie quickened to sudden action. “I hope it’s +Jerry,” she flung over her shoulder as she ran to the open door. “Come +on, Mary.” + +Mary needed no second invitation. By the time Marjorie had reached the +telephone, she was only a step behind her chum. + +“Hello! Yes, this is Marjorie. Oh, Jerry!” Marjorie gave a little squeal +of delight. “We were just talking of you. We wondered if you’d be home +to-day. Won’t you come over now? You will? Well, then, hurry as fast as +ever you can. We’re crazy to see you. Mary wants to talk to you. Just +say 'hello' to her and hang up the receiver.” Marjorie cast a playful +glance at the girl beside her. “You can talk to her when you get here.” + +Marjorie held the receiver toward Mary, who greeted Jerry in brief but +affectionate fashion and obediently hung up. “Always do as your superior +officer tells you,” she commented with a smile. + +“That’s pure sarcasm,” retorted Marjorie gaily. “The question is, am I +your superior officer or are you mine? This business of both being +lieutenants has its drawbacks. We can never know just who’s who.” + +“I ought to be second lieutenant and you first,” demurred Mary soberly. +“I didn’t deserve to become a first with you last June after——” + +“Mary!” Marjorie cried out in distressed concern. Her brown eyes were +filled with tender reproach. “Aren’t you ever going to forget?” + +“I can’t.” Mary turned her face half away, then the flood of sadness she +had been fighting back all afternoon overtook her. Stumbling to the +stairs she sat down on the lowest step, her face hidden in her hands, +her shoulders shaking. + +“Poor, dear Lieutenant.” Her own eyes overflowing, Marjorie dropped down +beside Mary and wound her arms about the dejected figure. + +“This is a nice reception! I see I shall have to welcome myself. Why, +how are you, Geraldine? Boo, hoo! It’s a wonder you wouldn’t ring. You +never did have any manners. I don’t see why you called, anyway. Boo, +hoo!” + +The first sound of a loud, cheerful voice brought the weepers to their +feet. A loud, anguished “Boo, hoo!” sent them into half tearful giggles. + +“That’s more like it,” approved the stout girl in the doorway, her round +face alive with kindly solicitude. “If I had sensitive feelings I might +think you were crying because you’d invited me to call. But I haven’t. +Hal says I am the most unfeeling person he knows. He only says that when +his little sister can’t see things the way he does.” + +Jerry rattled off these pleasantries while in the midst of a rapturous +embrace, bestowed upon her plump person by two now broadly-smiling +mourners. + +“It’s splendid to see you again, Jerry,” caroled Marjorie, hugging her +friend with bearish enthusiasm. Mary echoed Marjorie’s fervent greeting. + +“The mere sight of me is always inspiring,” grinned Jerry, winding an +arm about each friend. “I hope you have both noticed by this time that I +am a great deal thinner than I was last June. I’ve lost two pounds. +Isn’t that some lose?” + +“Perfectly remarkable,” agreed Marjorie mischievously. “Come on out on +the veranda, Jerry. We have such a lot to talk about.” + +Four determined, affectionate arms propelled Jerry to the wide, +vine-decked porch, established her in the big porch swing, and climbed +in beside her. + +“Now, tell me, children, why these weeps?” Jerry demanded practically, +still retaining her loving hold of her two friends. + +“They’ve been on the way all day,” confessed Marjorie. “We’ve both tried +not to cry, but—somehow——” Her voice faltered. “You see, Jerry, this is +Mary’s and my last week together. Mary’s going away off to Colorado next +week.” + +“You don’t mean it?” Jerry sat up very straight, looking wide-eyed +concern. “You never said a thing about it in your letter. I mean +letters. I believe you did write me two.” Jerry registered comical +accusation. + +“Don’t remind me of my sins of omission,” Marjorie laughed, flushing a +trifle. “I always mean to write, but somehow I never do. We didn’t know +until the week before we came from the seashore that Mary would have to +go so soon. We thought it wouldn’t be until November.” Again her tones +quavered suspiciously. + +“I see.” Jerry frowned to hide her own inclination to mourn. During the +brief time they were thrown together, after the reunion of Marjorie and +Mary, she had learned to know and love the real Mary Raymond. “I’m more +sorry than I can say. I thought we’d all be together for our junior year +at Sanford High.” + +“Of course, I am anxious to be with mother and father,” put in Mary +loyally, “but I hate to leave Sanford. There are lots of things I meant +to do this year that I didn’t do last year.” + +“But you can’t be in two places at once,” was Jerry’s blunt consolation. +“Never mind, Mary, you can come back to visit us and we’ll write you +lots of letters. Marjorie is such a splendid correspondent.” Her +accompanying jolly chuckle robbed this last pertinent fling of offence. +“We’ll write you all the news. That reminds me, I’ve some for you girls. +You’ll never guess who stayed at the same hotel with us this summer. I +didn’t write about it, because I wanted to have it to tell when I came +home.” + +Mary cast a sidelong glance at the stout girl. There had been a faint +touch of disgust in Jerry’s intonation. “Was it—Mignon?” she asked, half +hesitant. + +“Right you are. How did you guess it?” + +“Oh, I just wondered,” was Mary’s brief response. A tide of red had +risen to her white skin, called there by distressing memories. + +“Yes, it was our dear Mignon,” continued Jerry briskly. “And she has a +friend, Rowena Farnham, who likewise stayed at our hotel. Believe me, +they were a well-matched pair. You see the La Salles usually go to +Severn Beach every summer, but they always stay at Cliff House. We +always go to the Sea Gull. That’s the whole length of the beach from +their hotel. Imagine how pleased I was to see Mignon come parading down +to dinner one evening, after we’d been there about two weeks. I was so +disgusted that I wanted my father to pack up and move us over to Cliff +House. But he wouldn’t, the hard-hearted person. + +“That is only part of my tale. The worst now comes trailing along. It’s +about this Rowena Farnham. It seems that the Farnhams moved to Sanford +last June just after school closed and——” + +“Is this Rowena Farnham a very tall, pretty girl with perfectly gorgeous +auburn hair and big black eyes?” broke in Mary abruptly. + +“Yes. Where did you ever see her?” demanded Jerry. “Where was I that I +didn’t?” + +“Oh, I saw her one day in the post-office with Mignon. It was after you +had gone away. I thought she must be a guest at the La Salles’.” + +“You thought wrong. She lives in that big house with the immense grounds +just the other side of the La Salles' home. It’s the one with that +terribly high, ornamental iron fence. I always used to call it the Jail. +It made me think of one. But that’s not my news, either. This new girl +is going to be a sophomore at Sanford High. I’m sorry for poor old +Sanford High.” + +“Why?” A curious note of alarm sprang into Marjorie’s question. After +two stormy years at high school, she longed for uneventful peace. +Jerry’s emphatic grumble came like a far-off roll of thunder, +prophesying storm. + +“Why?” Jerry warmed to her subject. “Because she is a terror. I can see +it in her eye. Just now she and Mignon are as chummy as can be. If they +stay chummy, look out for trouble. If they don’t, look out for more +trouble.” + +“Perhaps you may find this new girl quite different,” suggested Mary +hopefully. “It’s not fair to judge her by Mignon. Very likely she hasn’t +any idea that—that——” She was thinking of how completely she had once +fallen under Mignon’s spell. + +“That Mignon is Mignon, you mean,” interrupted Jerry. “She ought to know +her after being with her all summer. I’ll bet she does. That’s just why +I think she’s a trouble-maker. They always hang together, you know.” + +Marjorie slipped from the swing and faced her friends with the air of +one who has suddenly arrived at a definite conclusion. For a moment she +stood regarding Jerry in silence, hands clasped behind her back. + +“There’s just one thing about it, Jerry,” she began firmly, “and that +is: I _will not_ have my junior year spoiled by Mignon La Salle or her +friends. Last year we tried to help Mignon and our plan didn’t work. I +thought once that she had a better self, but now it would take a good +deal to make me believe it. She caused me a great deal of unnecessary +unhappiness and she almost made Constance lose her part in the operetta. +And little Charlie! I can’t forgive her for the way she treated that +baby. This year I am going to go on with my school just as though I had +never known her. I hope I won’t have to play on the same basket ball +team with her or against any team that she plays on. I’ve had enough of +Mignon La Salle. I’m going to steer clear of her.” + + + + +CHAPTER II—ALL IN HONOR OF MARY + + +“Be sure not to pack your white lace dress, Lieutenant.” Marjorie +delivered this reminder from the open doorway of the pretty blue room +which Mary had so long regarded as her own special nook. + +From a kneeling position before her trunk Mary Raymond turned her head, +her eyes two mournful blue stars. “It’s over there,” she returned, +nodding somberly toward the bed. “Everything else that had to be packed +is packed. I can put my dress in the last thing to-night. I’m so glad +Connie is home in time to see me off on my journey. I hope she and +Charlie will come over early this afternoon.” + +“They will.” The blithe assurance held a significance which Mary did not +catch. The shadow of the coming separation now hung more heavily upon +her. Marjorie’s cheery reply caused her to wonder vaguely if her chum +would really miss her so very much. The next instant she put the thought +away from her as unworthy. Of course Marjorie would miss her. Still she +could scarcely be blamed if she did not. In spite of the long, happy +summer they had spent together, occasionally the past rose to torture +Mary. + +Packing her effects had been a severe trial. Everything she touched +called forth memories. There was the blue linen frock she had worn on +the morning of her first entrance into Sanford High School. The very +sight of it filled her with remorse. And the dress she had worn on +Christmas Day, when the merciful Flag of Truce had bade a halt to the +hostilities which her own unreasonable jealousy had created. More than +one tear had fallen on the various dainty articles of wearing apparel as +she consigned them to her trunk. She wished above all to be brave and +cheerful, even to the very moment of farewell, but she found it hard to +fight back the terrible feeling of oppression that clutched at her +heart. + +From her position in the doorway, Marjorie had watched Mary for a moment +or two before speaking. She had guessed that the work of packing would +be something of a dolorous labor, which Mary might prefer to perform +alone. At heart she, too, was sad, but in her mind lurked a pleasant +knowledge which for the present Mary did not share. It was this +particular bit of knowledge that made it difficult for her to keep a +sober face as she met Mary’s doleful gaze. + +“I’m going to wear white, too,” she said brightly. “Captain finished my +new lingerie frock yesterday. As long as you’re through packing, why not +get dressed for dinner now? I’m going to, even if it is only three +o’clock. Then when Connie and Charlie come we can take a stroll down to +Sargent’s. That is, if we care to.” Again her lovely face threatened to +break forth into the smiles. + +“All right.” Mary’s acquiescence came rather listlessly. Rising from the +floor she began somewhat spiritless preparations toward making ready to +receive the expected guests. + +“I’m going to my house now to put on my costliest raiment.” Flashing a +mischievous glance toward Mary, Marjorie disappeared from the doorway +and tripped down the hall. Once inside her “house,” as she had +whimsically named her pink and white room, she executed a gleeful little +dance for her own benefit. “She doesn’t suspect a thing,” was her +jubilant comment. + +But while the two girls were engaged in arraying themselves to do honor +to Constance, a most peculiar state of affairs was in progress +downstairs. Through the wide flung hall door, one after another flitted +a mysterious procession of girls, moving with the noiseless tread of a +flock of ghosts. Their bright-eyed, smiling faces and gala attire, +however, marked them as being particularly human. One of the seven +specters bore a strong resemblance to Mary herself, and the diminutive +black-eyed sprite she led by the hand seemed on the verge of breaking +forth into an ecstatic flow of joyful sounds. + +Apparently, Mrs. Dean had also been suddenly bereft of speech. Only her +twinkling eyes and smiling lips gave sign of just how greatly welcome +were her silent guests. Ushering them into the living room she nodded +brightly, laid a warning finger to her lips and softly withdrew, pulling +together the silken portieres. A half-smothered giggle, to which no +self-respecting ghost would have stooped to give utterance, followed +her. Then profound stillness reigned within. + +“Are you ready, Mary?” A bewitching, brown-eyed vision in white pranced +in upon Mary as she was slowly adjusting the soft loops of her wide, +white ribbon sash. “Let me tie your sash.” Marjorie’s nimble fingers set +themselves to work. “There you are. You do look so perfectly sweet in +white. Now smile and say prettily, 'Thank you for them kind words, Miss +Marjorie.' That’s what Delia always says when she dresses up and I tell +her how fine she looks.” + +Marjorie’s buoyant spirits were so irresistible as to bring the coveted +light into Mary’s mournful eyes. “Forward, march! Here we go.” Seizing +Mary gently by the shoulders she marched her down the hall to the +stairway. “Break ranks,” she ordered. “The gallant regiment can’t afford +to tumble downstairs.” + +“Halt!” came the order, as Mary reached the lower hall a step ahead of +her commander. “We will now make an invasion on the living room. Two’s +right, march!” + +Mary obediently marched. Of her own accord she came to an abrupt halt. +“Oh!” she gasped. Her amazed exclamation was drowned in a chorus of +gleeful shouts as seven very lively apparitions closed in around her. + +“Charlie never said a word!” shrieked a high, triumphant voice. “We +comed to see you. Hooray!” A small, joyful figure hurled itself straight +into Mary’s arms. She stooped and hugged him close, her golden head bent +to the youngster’s. Straightening, she glimpsed the affectionate circle +of girls through a mist of unbidden tears. “I’m so glad and so surprised +to see all of you,” she faltered. “And you knew it all the time!” She +caught Marjorie’s hand. + +“Of course I knew it. Now we are even. You gave me a surprise party +once, so I thought I’d return the compliment,” laughed Marjorie. “I +could hardly keep it to myself, though. Every time I looked at you I +wanted to say, 'Cheer up, the best is yet to come.'” + +“It’s a good thing it wasn’t long coming,” retorted Jerry Macy. “I never +knew how much I liked to talk until I had to keep still.” + +“You must have slipped into the house like shadows,” declared Mary +happily. Her sad expression had quite vanished with the unexpected honor +that had been done her. She felt that, after all, she held some small +place in the affections of Marjorie’s intimate friends, and the cloud of +doubt that had obsessed her rolled away. + +“We did do that arriving stunt rather well,” was Harriet Delaney’s +complacent comment. “Of course, Susie giggled. We expected she would, +though. The rest of us were above reproach.” + +“No wonder I giggled,” defended Susan Atwell. “If you had been the last +one in line you’d have laughed, too. You girls looked as if you were +trying to walk on eggshells, and when Jerry crossed the room in about +three steps, it was too much for me.” Susan’s cheerful chuckle broke +forth anew and went the rounds. + +“Well, children, what is your pleasure?” inquired Marjorie. “Shall we +stay here, or sit on the veranda, or establish ourselves in the pagoda, +or what?” + +“The pagoda for mine,” decided Jerry, “provided the rest of you are of +the same mind. We can sit in a circle and tell sad stories of the deaths +of kings, etc. All those in favor of this lively pastime please say +'Aye;' contrary, keep quiet.” + +“Aye,” came the willing response. + +“What for is 'Aye?'” calmly demanded Charlie Stevens of Mary, to whom he +had immediately attached himself. + +“Oh, it means that Charlie can go out with us to the summer house and +have a nice time, if he would like to,” explained Mary. + +“Charlie don’t want to,” was the frank response. “Where’s Delia?” Fond +recollections of frequent visits to the Dean kitchen, invariably +productive of toothsome gifts, lurked in the foreground. “Delia likes to +see me.” + +“You mean you like to see Delia,” laughed Constance. “But you know you +came to see Mrs. Dean and Marjorie and Mary,” she reminded. + +“I’ve seen them. Now I have to see Delia.” + +“Delia wins the day,” smiled Mrs. Dean. “You are all jilted. Very well, +Charlie, you and I will pay our respects to Delia. Come on.” She +stretched forth an inviting hand to the little boy, who accepted it +joyfully, and trotted off with her to invade good-natured Delia’s +domain. + +“As long as our one cavalier has been lured away from us by Delia we +might as well try to console one another,” laughed Marjorie. + +“He’s growing terribly spoiled,” apologized Constance. “My aunt adores +him and thinks he must have everything he asks for. He’s a good little +boy, though, in spite of all the petting he gets.” + +“He’s a perfect darling,” dimpled Susan Atwell. “He says such quaint, +funny things. Has he ever tried to run away since the night of the +operetta?” + +“No.” Constance made brief reply. Her gaze wandered to Mary Raymond, who +was talking busily with Harriet Delaney and Esther Lind. The vision of a +fair-haired, blue-eyed girl, leading a small run-away up to the stage +door of the theatre rose before her. Next to Marjorie Dean, Mary ranked +second in her heart. Constance felt suddenly very humble in the +possession of two such wonderful friends. Life had been kinder to her +than she deserved was her grateful thought. + +Susan eyed her curiously. Although she was very fond of Constance, she +did not in the least understand her. Now she said rather timidly, “I +hope you didn’t mind because I spoke of the operetta and Charlie’s +running away, Connie?” + +Constance promptly came out of her day-dream. “You brought it all back +to me,” she smiled. “I was just wondering what I’d ever done to deserve +such friends as I’ve made here in Sanford. I can’t bear to think that +Mary won’t be with us this year.” + +Before Susan could reply, Jerry interrupted them with, “Come along, +girls. The sooner we get settled the longer we’ll have to talk.” + +It was a merry, light-hearted band that strolled out of the house and +across the lawn to the honeysuckle-draped pagoda, situated at the far +end of the velvety stretch of green. Mary and Marjorie brought up the +rear, their arms piled high with bright-hued cushions, and the guests +soon disposed themselves on the bench built circular fashion around the +pagoda, or sought the comfort of the several wicker chairs. + +Brought together again after more than two months' separation, a busy +wagging of tongues was in order, mingled with the ready laughter that +high-spirited youth alone knows. Everyone had something interesting to +tell of her vacation and rejoiced accordingly in the telling. Father +Time flew in his fleetest fashion, but no one of the group paid the +slightest attention to the fact. From vacation, the conversation +gradually drifted into school channels and a lively discussion of junior +plans ensued. + +“By the way, girls,” remarked Jerry Macy with the careless assumption of +casualty which was her favorite method of procedure when about to retail +some amazing bit of news. “Did you know that Miss Archer almost decided +to resign her position at Sanford High for one in Chicago?” + +“Of course _we_ didn’t know it, and _you_ know we didn’t,” laughed Susan +Atwell. “Whenever Jerry begins with 'By the way,' and tries to look +innocent you may know she has something startling to offer.” + +“Where on earth do you pick up all your news, Jerry?” asked Constance +Stevens. “You always seem to know everything about everybody.” + +“Oh, it just happens to come my way,” grinned Jerry. “I heard about Miss +Archer from my father. He’s just been elected to the Board of +Education.” + +“She isn’t really going to leave Sanford High, is she, Jerry?” An +anxious frown puckered Marjorie’s smooth forehead. She hated to think of +high school without Miss Archer. + +“No. At first she thought she would, but afterward she decided that +she’d rather stay here. She told father that she had grown so fond of +the dear old school she couldn’t bear to leave it. I’m certainly glad +she’s not going to resign. If she did we might have kind, delightful +Miss Merton for a principal. Then—_good night_!” Jerry relapsed into +slang to emphasize her disgust of such a possibility. + +“I shouldn’t like that,” Marjorie remarked bluntly. “Still, I can’t help +feeling a little bit sorry for Miss Merton. She shuts out all the +bright, pleasant things in life and just sticks to the disagreeable +ones. Sometimes I wonder if she was ever young or had ever been happy.” + +“She’s been a regular Siberian crab-apple ever since I can remember,” +grumbled Jerry. “Why, when I was a kidlet in knee skirts she was the +terror of Sanford High. I guess she must have been crossed in love about +a hundred years ago.” Jerry giggled a trifle wickedly. + +“She was,” affirmed quiet Irma with a smile, “but not a hundred years +ago. I never knew it until this summer.” + +“Here is something I don’t seem to know about,” satirized Jerry. “How +did that happen, I wonder?” + +“Don’t keep us in suspense, Irma,” implored Muriel Harding. “If Miss +Merton ever had a love affair it’s your duty to tell us about it. I +can’t imagine such an impossibility. Did it happen here in Sanford? How +did you come to hear of it?” + +A circle of eager faces were turned expectantly toward Irma. “My aunt, +whom I visited this summer, told me about it,” she began. “She lived in +Sanford when she was a girl and knew Miss Merton then. They went to +school together. There were no high schools then; just an academy for +young men and women. Miss Merton was really a pretty girl. She had pink +cheeks and bright eyes and beautiful, heavy, dark hair. She had a +sister, too, who wasn’t a bit pretty. + +“They were very quiet girls who hardly ever went to parties and never +paid much attention to the boys they knew in Sanford. When Miss Merton +was about eighteen and her sister twenty-one, a handsome young naval +officer came to visit some friends in Sanford on a furlough. He was +introduced to both sisters, and called on them two or three times. They +lived with their father in that little house on Sycamore Street where +Miss Merton still lives. The young ensign’s furlough was nearly over +when he met them, so he didn’t have much time to get well acquainted +with them. The night before he went away he asked Miss Merton if he +might write to her and she said 'Yes.'” + +“Some story,” cut in Jerry. “And did he write?” + +“Don’t interrupt me, Jeremiah,” reproved Irma. “Yes, he wrote, but——” + +“Miss Merton never got the letter,” supplemented the irrepressible +Jerry. “That’s the way it always happens in books.” + +“All right. You may tell the rest of it,” teased Irma, her eyes +twinkling. + +“Someone please smother Jerry’s head in a sofa cushion, so she can’t +interrupt,” pleaded Harriet. + +“Try it,” challenged Jerry. “Excuse me, Irma. I solemnly promise to +behave like a clam. On with the miraculous, marvelous memoirs of +meritorious Miss Merton.” + +“Where was I? Oh, yes. The young ensign wrote, as he thought, to Miss +Merton, but in some way he had confused the two sisters' first names. So +he wrote to Alice Merton, her sister, instead, thinking it was our Miss +Merton.” + +“How awful! The very idea! What a dreadful mistake!” came from the +highly interested listeners. + +“The sister was delighted because she liked the ensign a lot and thought +he didn’t care much about her. You can imagine how Miss Merton felt. She +never said a word to anyone then about his asking her if he might write. +She thought he had just been flirting with her when really he had fallen +in love with her. Then his ship went on a trip around the world, but he +kept on writing to the sister, and at last he asked her to marry him. So +they were engaged and he sent her a beautiful diamond ring. They planned +to be married when he received his next furlough. But when he came to +Sanford to claim his bride, he found that he had made a terrible +mistake.” + +“What did he do then?” chorused half a dozen awed voices. + +“Oh, he made the best of it and married the sister,” Irma replied with a +shrug. “I suppose he felt that he couldn’t very well do anything else. +Perhaps he didn’t have the courage to. But one day before his wedding he +went to the house and found Miss Merton alone. She had been crying and +he felt so sorry that he tried to find out what was the matter. Somehow +they came to an understanding, but it was too late. Three or four years +after that he was drowned during a storm at sea. Miss Merton never quite +got over it all, and it changed her disposition, I guess.” + +“What a sad story.” Constance Stevens' blue eyes were soft with +sympathy. + +“That makes Miss Merton seem like a different person, doesn’t it?” +Marjorie thoughtfully knitted her brows. + +“I suppose that is why she acts as though she hated young people,” +offered Mary. “We probably remind her of her cheated youth.” + +“She should have been particular enough to let that stupid ensign know +that she was she,” criticized practical Jerry. “I’m glad I haven’t a +sister. There’s no danger of any future aspirant for my hand and heart +getting me mixed with Hal.” + +The sentimental shadow cast upon the group by Irma’s romantic tale +disappeared in a gale of laughter. + +“Honestly, Jerry Macy, you haven’t the least idea of romance,” giggled +Susan. “Here Irma tells us a real love story and you spoil it all about +a minute afterward.” + +“Can’t help it,” asserted Jerry stoutly. “I have to say what I think.” + +“Oh, here come Captain and Charlie,” cried Marjorie, sighting a gracious +figure in white descending the steps with Charlie in tow. “That means +dinner is about to be served, children. Our farewell feast to Lieutenant +Mary Raymond.” + + + + +CHAPTER III—THE SHIELD OF VALOR + + +A chorus of ohs and ahs ascended as the guests filed into a dining room, +the decoration of which spelled Patriotism in large capitals. In honor +of the pretty soldier play to which she and Mary had so long clung, +Marjorie had decreed that the dinner should be a patriotic affair so far +as decorations went. The walls of the large, attractive room were +plentifully festooned with red, white and blue bunting. Flags were in +evidence everywhere. From the center of the large oak table a large doll +dressed as Uncle Sam held gallantly aloft the tri-colored ribbons that +extended to each place. On one side of him stood a smaller doll dressed +in the khaki uniform of the United States soldier. On the other, a +valiant Jackie stood guard. At each cover was a small soldier doll and +the place cards were tiny, folded, silk flags, each guest’s name written +in one of the stripes of white uppermost. + +Mary occupied the seat of honor at the head of the table, with Marjorie +at her right and Constance at her left. But at the departing +Lieutenant’s place rose an amazing pile of tissue-paper wrapped, +beribboned bundles that smacked of Christmas. + +“Company, attention,” called Mrs. Dean from the foot of the table, the +instant the party had seated themselves. “Lieutenant Raymond, you are +ordered to inspect your wealth before mess.” + +“I—oh——” stammered the abashed Lieutenant, regarding said “wealth” in +stupefaction. “All those things are not really for _me_!” + +“Open them and see,” directed Marjorie, her face radiant with unselfish +happiness. “Every one of them holds an original poetic message. None of +us knows what the other wrote. You are to read them in a loud voice and +satisfy our curiosity. Now hurry up and begin.” + +Under a battery of smiling faces, Mary slowly undid a good-sized square +bundle. With slightly shaking fingers she drew forth a white box. When +opened it displayed several sizes of note paper and envelopes bearing +her monogram in silver. Picking up a card she steadied her voice and +read: + + “You say, of course, 'I’ll surely write,' + But when you’ve traveled out of sight, + This nice white box may then remind you + Of Jerry Macy, far behind you.” + +“I truly will write you, Jerry. Thank you.” Mary beamed affectionately +on the stout girl. “It’s a lovely present, and my own monogram, too.” + +“See that you do,” nodded Jerry gruffly. She loved to give, but she did +not relish being thanked. + +“Next,” smilingly ordered Marjorie. “If you don’t hurry and open them, +we shall all starve.” + +The next package disclosed a dainty little leather combination purse and +vanity case from Muriel Harding with the succinct advice: + + “Don’t lose your ticket or your money, + To be stone broke is far from funny. + When wicked cinders seek your eye, + Consult your mirror on the sly.” + +After Muriel had been thanked and her practical, poetic advice lauded, +Mary went on with her delightful investigation. An oblong bundle turned +out to be a box of nut chocolates from Susan, who offered: + + “In time of homesick tribulation, + Turn to this toothsome consolation. + To eat it up will be amusin'—— + Here’s sweet farewell from giggling Susan.” + +“Giggling Susan’s” effort brought forth a ripple of giggles from all +sides. + +“That’s my present,” squealed Charlie, as Mary fingered a tiny package +ornamented with a huge red bow. “It’s a——” + +“Shh!” warned Constance, placing prompt fingers on the too-willing lips. + +Mary cast the child a tender glance as she glimpsed a tiny leather +violin case, partially obscured by a card. In this instance it was Uncle +John Roland who had played poet, after receiving Charlie’s somewhat +garbled instructions regarding the sentiment. + +“Say it s’loud as you can,” commanded the excited youngster. + +Mary complied, reading in a purposely loud tone that must have been +intensely gratifying to the diminutive giver: + + “Once when away from home I ranned + To play my fiddle in the band, + You comed and finded me, 'n then + I never ranned away again. + So now I’m always nice and good + An' do as Connie says I should, + And 'cause you’re going to run away + You’d better write to me some day! + Inside the little fiddle box + There is a fountain pen that talks + On paper—it’s for you from me, + The great musishun; your friend, C.” + +As Mary read the last line she slipped from her place to Charlie and +kissed the gleeful, upturned face. “You darling boy,” she quavered. +“Mary won’t forget to write.” + +“Mine’s the best of all,” observed Charlie with modest frankness, as he +enthusiastically returned the kiss. + +Back in her place again, Mary finished the affectionate inspection of +the tokens her friends had taken so much pleasure in giving. There was a +book from Harriet, a folded metal drinking cup in a leather case from +Esther Lind, a hand-embroidered pin and needle case from Irma, a pair of +soft, dark-blue leather slippers from Constance, and a wonderful +Japanese silk kimono from Mrs. Dean. The remembrances had all been +selected as first aids to Mary during her long journey across the +country. With each one went a humorous verse, composed with more or less +effort on the part of the givers. + +But one package now remained to be opened. Its diminutive size and shape +hinted that it might have come from the jeweler’s. Mary knew it to be +Marjorie’s farewell token to her. She would have liked to examine it in +private. She was almost sure that she was going to cry. She thrust back +the inclination, however, flashing a tender, wavering smile at her chum +as she untied the silver cord that bound the box. It bore the name of a +Sanford jeweler and when the lid was off revealed a round, gold +monogrammed locket, gleaming dully against its pale blue silk bed. In a +tiny circular groove of the box was a fine-grained gold chain. + +Mary’s changeful face registered many emotions as she took the locket in +her hands and stared at it in silence. Acting on a swift, overwhelming +impulse she sprang mutely from her chair and rushed out of the room. +Marjorie half rose from her place, then sat down again. “Lieutenant will +come back soon,” she said fondly. “She hasn’t really deserted from the +army, she’s only taken a tiny leave of absence. I remember just how I +felt when some of the boys and girls of Franklin High gave me a surprise +party. That was the night this came to me.” She patted the butterfly pin +that had figured so prominently in her freshman year at Sanford. “I +almost cried like a baby. I remember that the whole table blurred while +Mary was making a speech to me about my beautiful pin.” Marjorie talked +on with the kindly object of centering the guests' attention on herself +until Mary should return. + +Meanwhile, in the living room Mary Raymond was engaged in the double +task of trying to suppress her tears and open the locket at the same +time. Her eyes brimming, she worked at the refractory gold catch with +insistent fingers. Opened at last, she beheld Marjorie’s lovely face +smiling out at her. On the inside of the upper half of the locket was +engraved, “Mary from Marjorie.” Below was the beautiful Spanish phrase, +“_Para siempre_,” literally translated, “for always,” but meaning +“forever.” + +Within a brief space of time, following her flight, the runaway +reappeared, her eyelids slightly pink. “I hope you will all pardon me,” +she apologized prettily. “I—I—couldn’t help it. You’ve been so sweet to +me. I can’t ever thank you as you deserve to be thanked for giving me so +many lovely things; the very ones I shall need most when I’m traveling. +I am sure you must know how dear you all are to me; dearer even than my +Franklin High friends. I hope each one of you will write to me. I’ll +truly try hard not only to be a good correspondent, but always to be +worthy of your friendship.” + +Mary’s earnest words met ready responses of good fellowship from those +whom she had once scorned. Everything was so different now. The new Mary +Raymond was an entire opposite to the sullen-faced young person who had +once flouted all overtures of friendship on the part of Marjorie’s +particular cronies. Beyond an eloquent hand clasp and, “My picture +locket is wonderful, Lieutenant. Thank you over and over,” Mary had +reserved further expression of her appreciation until the two chums +should be entirely by themselves. + +The delightful dinner ended with a general distribution of fancy cracker +bon-bons, which the guests snapped open with a will, to find cunning +caps representing the flags of various nations. They donned these with +alacrity and trooped into the living room for an evening of stunts in +which music played an important part. Constance lifted up her exquisite +voice untiringly, weaving her magic spell about her eager listeners. +Jerry sang a comic song, mostly off the key, merely to prove the +impossibility of her vocal powers. Charlie Stevens, who had trustfully +tugged his faithful fiddle along, insisted on rendering a solo of +anguishing shrieks and squawks, assuming the majestic mien of a +virtuoso. He took himself so seriously that no one dared laugh, although +the desire to do so was throttled with difficulty. Susan was prevailed +upon to perform a scarf dance, her one accomplishment, using a strip of +red, white and blue bunting with graceful effect. Harriet Delaney also +sang a ballad, and Esther Lind offered a beautiful Swedish folk song she +had learned from her father, who had sung it as a boy in far-off +Scandinavia. When the small repertoire of soloists had been exhausted, +everyone turned to with Constance at the piano, and made the living room +ring with school songs. + +Just before the farewell party broke up the door bell rang. Its loud, +insistent peal brought a significant exchange of glances, in which Mary +alone did not share. Mrs. Dean hurried into the hall. A moment and she +returned to the living room, escorting Delia, whose broad, homely face +was wreathed in smiles. She advanced toward Mary, holding out a goodly +sheaf of letters. “Special delivery, Miss Mary,” she announced. “May yez +have many of the same.” She made a little bobbing bow as Mary took them, +bestowed a friendly grin on the company and waddled out. + +“I don’t understand.” Mary seemed overcome by this fresh surprise. “Are +they all for me?” + +“They’re your railway comforts, Lieutenant,” laughed Marjorie. “There’s +a letter from each of us. You can read one a day. There are enough to +reach to Denver and a few thrown in to cure the blues after you get +there. So you see we won’t let you forget us.” + +“It’s the nicest reminder I could possibly have. I don’t need a single +thing to make me remember you, though. You’re all here in my heart to +stay as long as I live.” Mary had never appeared more sweetly appealing +than she now looked, as her clear tones voiced her inner sentiments. + +“You’re a nice girl,” approved Charlie Stevens. “If I ever grow to be’s +tall’s you, Mary Raymond, I’ll be married to you and you can play in the +band, too. Uncle John’ll buy you a fiddle.” + +This calm disposal of Mary’s future drove sentiment to the winds. +Unconsciously, little Charlie had sounded a merry note just in time to +lift the pall which is always bound to hang over a company devoted to +the saying of farewells. + +At eleven o’clock Mary and Marjorie accompanied their guests to the +gate, the latter avowing their intention to be at the station the +following morning to see Mary off on her journey. The two girls strolled +back to the house, under the stars, their arms entwined about each +other’s waists. + +“We had a beautiful evening, Lieutenant. How I wish General could have +been here. I hate to go away without saying good-bye to him,” sighed +Mary. + +“I’m sorry, too. I wish he could always be at home. He has to be away +from Sanford and home so much.” Marjorie echoed Mary’s sigh. +Brightening, she said: “I’ve another dear surprise for you, though. Come +up to my house and I’ll give it to you. It’s his farewell message. He +wanted you to have it the very last thing to-night.” + +“We are going upstairs, Captain,” called Mary, as they passed through +the living room. “Want to come?” + +“Later,” returned Mrs. Dean. She was too good a commander to intrude +upon the last precious moments of confidence her little army still had +left to them. + +Marjorie marched Mary to the pink and white window seat and playfully +ordered, “Sit down and fold your hands like a nice, obedient lieutenant. +Shut your eyes and don’t open them until I say so.” + +Tripping gleefully to the chiffonier she opened the top drawer, bringing +forth a small package and a square white envelope. Tucking them into +Mary’s folded hands she said, “First you may open your eyes; then you +must open your presents. I haven’t the least idea what’s in the package +or what the letter says. General mailed them to me from Boston.” + +Two pairs of eyes, bright with affectionate curiosity, bent themselves +eagerly on the little quaintly enameled box, which Mary hastily +unwrapped. “Oh!” was the concerted exclamation. On a white satin pad lay +an exquisitely dainty gold pin. It was in the form of a shield. Across +the top winked three small jewels set in a row, a ruby, a diamond and a +sapphire. + +“'Three cheers for the red, white and blue,'” sang Marjorie, dropping +down beside Mary and hugging her enthusiastically. “Do read the letter, +Lieutenant. We’ll rave about this cunning pin afterward. Oh, I forgot. +Perhaps General didn’t mean me to know what he wrote.” + +“Of course he did,” flung back Mary loyally. “We’ll read it together.” +Tearing open the envelope, she unfolded the letter and read aloud: + + “Beloved Lieutenant: + + “You are going away to a far country on a long hike, and, as it is + the duty of every good general to look to the welfare of his + soldiers, I am sending you the magic Shield of Valor to protect you + in time of need. It is a token of honor for a brave lieutenant who + fought a memorable battle and won the victory against heavy odds. It + is a magic shield, in that it offers protection only to the soldier + who has met and worsted the giant, Self. It was wrought from the + priceless metal of Golden Deeds and set with the eyes of Endurance, + Truth and Constancy. No enemy, however deadly, can prevail against + it. It is a talisman, the wearing of which must bring Honor and + Peace. + + “Dear little comrade, may happiness visit you in your new barracks. + Let the bugle call 'On duty' find you marching head up, colors + flying, until 'Taps' sounds at the close of each busy day. Though + you have answered the call to a new post, your general hopes with + all his heart that you will some day hurry back to your regiment in + Sanford to receive the sword of captaincy and the enthusiastic + welcome of your brother officers. May all good go with you. + + “Loyally, + "General Dean.” + +Mary’s voice trailed away into a silence that outrivaled mere speech. +The two girls sat staring at the jeweled token before them as though +fearing to break the spell their general’s message had evoked. + +“Isn’t it queer?” came from Mary, “I don’t feel a bit like crying. When +all the nice things happened to me downstairs I wanted to cry. But this +letter and my wonderful Shield of Valor make me feel different; as +though I’d like to march out and conquer the world!” + +Marjorie’s red lips curved into a tender smile as she took the pin from +the box and fastened it in the folds of lace where Mary’s gown fell away +at the throat. “That’s because it is a true talisman,” she reminded +softly. “We never knew when long ago we played being soldiers just for +fun that we were only getting ready to be soldiers in earnest.” + + + + +CHAPTER IV—THE NEW SECRETARY + + +“I’m ready to go to school, Captain!” Marjorie Dean popped her curly +head into the living room. “Is the note ready, too? It’s simply dear in +you to give me a chance to call on Miss Archer.” + +“Just a moment.” Mrs. Dean hastily addressed an envelope and slipped +into it the note she had just finished writing. “I could mail it, I +suppose, but I thought you might like to play special messenger,” she +observed, handing Marjorie the note. + +“It was a glorious thought,” laughed Marjorie. “I wanted to see Miss +Archer yesterday, but I didn’t like to go to her office on the very +first day without a good excuse. Do I look nice, Captain?” she inquired +archly. + +“You know you do, vain child.” Mrs. Dean surveyed the dainty figure of +her daughter with pardonable pride. “That quaint flowered organdie frock +exactly suits you. Now salute your captain and hurry along. I don’t care +to have you tardy on my account.” + +Marjorie embraced her mother in her usual tempestuous fashion and went +skipping out of the house and down the stone walk with the joyous +abandon of a little girl. Once the gate had swung behind her she dropped +into a more decorous gait as she hurried along the wide, shady street +toward school. “Oh, goodness!” she murmured. When within two blocks of +the high school building she glimpsed the City Hall clock. Its huge, +black hands pointed to five minutes to nine. “I’ll have to run for it,” +was her dismayed reflection. “If I hurry, I can make it. I won’t have +time to put my hat in my new junior locker, though.” + +Decorum now discarded, Marjorie set off on a brisk run that brought her +into the locker room at precisely one minute to nine. Hastily depositing +her dainty rose-trimmed leghorn on a convenient window ledge, she ran up +the basement stairs to the study hall, gaining the seat assigned to her +the previous day just as the nine o’clock bell clanged forth its +warning. She smiled rather contemptuously as she noted the disapproving +glance Miss Merton flung in her direction. She had escaped a scolding by +virtue of a few brief seconds. + +“_She_ hasn’t changed a bit,” was Marjorie’s inward judgment, as she +turned her gaze upon the rows of students; called together again to +continue their earnest march along the road of education. Her heart +thrilled with pride as she noted how few vacant seats the great study +hall held. The freshman class was unusually large. She noticed there +were a number of girls she had never before seen. It looked, too, as +though none of last year’s freshmen had dropped out of school. As for +the juniors, they were all present, even to Mignon La Salle. But how +decidedly grown-up the French girl looked! Her black curls were arranged +in an ultra-fashionable knot at the back of her head that made her +appear several years older than she really was. Her gown, too, an +elaborate affair of sage green pongee, with wide bands of heavy +insertion, added to her years. She looked very little like a school girl +Marjorie thought. + +Lost in contemplation of the new Mignon, she was rudely reminded of the +fact that she was staring by Mignon herself. Their eyes meeting, Mignon +made a face at Marjorie by way of expressing her candid opinion of the +girl she disliked. Marjorie colored and hastily looked away, amused +rather than angry at this display of childishness. It hardly accorded +with her grown-up air. She had not realized that she had been guilty of +staring. Her mind was intent on trying to recall something she had heard +in connection with the French girl that now eluded her memory. Shrugging +her shoulders she dismissed it as a matter of small consequence. + +As the members of the four classes were still vacillating between which +subjects to take up and which to exclude from their programs of study, +classes that morning were to mean a mere business of assembling in the +various recitation rooms, there to receive the first instructions from +the special teachers before settling down to the usual routine of +lessons. + +For her junior program, Marjorie had decided upon third year French, +English Literature, Cæsar’s Commentaries and civil government. As she +had recently begun piano lessons, she had wisely concluded that, with +piano practice, four subjects would keep her sufficiently busy. Her +interest in music had developed as a result of her association with +Constance Stevens. She yearned to be able some day to accompany +Constance’s beautiful voice on the piano. Mrs. Dean had long deplored +the fact that Marjorie was not interested in becoming at least a fair +pianist. Herself a musician of considerable skill, she believed it a +necessary accomplishment for girls and was delighted when Marjorie had +announced that she wished to begin lessons on the piano. + +By reciting English literature during the first period of the morning +and French the second, the last period before noon was hers for study. +Civil government and Cæsar recitations the first two periods of the +afternoon left her the last hour of that session free. She had always +tried to arrange her subjects to gain that coveted afternoon period, and +now she felt especially pleased at being able to also reserve the last +period of the morning for study. + +It was while she sat in her old place in French class, listening to the +obsequiously polite adjurations of Professor Fontaine, that she +remembered the still undelivered note from her mother to Miss Archer. +“I’m a faithless messenger,” was her rueful thought. “I’ll hurry to Miss +Archer’s office with Captain’s note the minute class is over.” +Contritely patting a fold of her lace-trimmed blouse where she had +tucked the letter for safe-keeping, Marjorie gave strict attention to +the earnestly-exhorting instructor. + +“Eet ees een thees class that we shall read the great works of the +incomparable French awthors,” he announced with an impressive roll of +r’s. “Eet ees of a truth necessary that you should become familiar weeth +them. You moost, therefore, stoody your lessons and be thus always +preepaired. Eet ees sad when my pupeels come to me with so many fleemsy +excuses. Thees year I shall nevaire accept them. I most eenseest that +you preepaire each day the lesson for the next.” + +Marjorie smiled to herself. The long-suffering professor was forever +preaching a preparedness, which it never fell to his lot to see +diligently practised by the majority of his pupils. Personally, she +could not be classed among the guilty. Her love of the musical language +kept her interest in it unflagging, thereby making her one of the +professor’s most dependable props. + +The recitation over, she paused to greet the odd little man, who +received her with delight, warmly shaking her hand. “Eet ees a grand +plaisir thus to see you again, Mees Marjorie,” he declared. “Ah, I am +assured that you at least weel nevaire say 'oonpreepaired.'” + +“I’ll try not to. I’m ever so glad to see you, too, Professor Fontaine.” +After a brief exchange of pleasantries she left the class room a trifle +hurriedly and set off to call on Miss Archer. + +Entering the spacious living-room office, she was forcibly reminded that +Marcia Arnold’s high school days had ended on the previous June. The +pretty room was quite deserted. Marjorie sighed as she glanced toward +the vacant chair, drawn under the closed desk that had been Marcia’s. +How much she would miss her old friend. Since that day long past on +which they had come to an understanding, she and Marcia had found much +in common. Marjorie sighed regretfully, wondering who Miss Archer’s next +secretary would be. + +As there was no one about to announce her, she walked slowly toward the +half-closed door of the inner office. Pausing just outside, she peeped +in. Her eyes widened with surprise as she caught sight of an unfamiliar +figure. A tall, very attractive young woman stood before the principal’s +desk, busily engaged in the perusal of a printed sheet of paper which +she held in her hand. It looked as though Miss Archer had already +secured someone in Marcia’s place. + +“May I come in, please?” Marjorie asked sweetly, halting in the doorway. + +The girl at the desk uttered a faint exclamation. The paper she held +fluttered to the desk. A wave of color dyed her exquisitely tinted skin +as she turned a pair of large, startled, black eyes upon the intruder. +For a second the two girls eyed each other steadily. Marjorie conceived +a curious impression that she had seen this stranger before, yet it was +too vague to convey to her the slightest knowledge of the other’s +identity. + +“You are Miss Archer’s new secretary, are you not?” she asked frankly. +“You can tell me, perhaps, where to find her. I have a note to deliver +to her personally.” + +A quick shade of relief crossed the other girl’s suddenly flushing face. +Smiling in self-possessed fashion, she said, “Miss Archer will not be +back directly. I cannot tell you when she will return.” + +“I think I’ll wait here for her,” decided Marjorie. “I have no +recitation this period.” + +The stranger’s arched brows arched themselves a trifle higher. “As you +please,” she returned indifferently. She again turned her attention to +the papers on the desk. + +Seating herself on the wide oak bench, Marjorie took speculative stock +of the new secretary. “What a stunning girl,” was her mental opinion. +“She’s dressed rather too well for a secretary, though,” flashed across +her as she noted the smart gown of white china silk, the very cut of +which pointed to the work of a high-priced modiste. “I suppose she’s +getting examination papers ready for the new pupils. I wonder why she +doesn’t sit down.” + +As she thus continued to cogitate regarding the stranger, the girl +frowned deeply at another paper she had picked up and swung suddenly +about. “Are you just entering high school?” she asked with direct +abruptness. + +“Oh, no.” Marjorie smilingly shook her head. “I am a junior.” + +“Are you?” The stranger again lost herself in puzzled contemplation of +the paper. Hearing an approaching footfall she made a quick move toward +the center of the office, raising her eyes sharply to greet a girl who +had come in quest of Miss Archer. Promptly disposing of the seeker, she +returned to her task. Several times after that she was interrupted by +the entrance of various students, whom she received coolly and dismissed +with, “Not here. I don’t know when Miss Archer will return.” Marjorie +noted idly that with every fresh arrival, the young woman continued to +move well away from the desk. + +Marjorie watched her in fascination. She was undoubtedly beautiful in a +strangely bold fashion, but apparently very cold and self-centered. She +had received the students who had entered the office with a brusqueness +that bordered on discourtesy. Two or three of them, whom Marjorie knew, +had greeted her in friendly fashion, at the same time mutely questioning +with uplifted brows as to whom this stranger might be. + +“This problem in quadratic equations is a terror,” the girl at the desk +suddenly remarked, her finger pointing to a row of algebraic symbols on +the paper she was still clutching. “Algebra’s awfully hard, isn’t it?” + +“I always liked it,” returned Marjorie, glad of a chance to break the +silence. “What is the problem?” + +“Come here,” ordered the other girl. “I don’t call _that_ an easy +problem. Do you?” + +Marjorie rose and approached the desk. The stranger handed her the +paper, indexing the vexatious problem. + +“Oh, that’s not so very hard,” was Marjorie’s light response. + +“Can you work it out?” came the short inquiry, a note of suppressed +eagerness in the questioner’s voice. + +“Why, I suppose so. Can’t you?” + +“I was trying it before you came in just for fun. I’ve forgotten my +algebra, I guess. I don’t believe I got the right result. It’s rather +good practice to review, isn’t it?” + +“She must be a senior,” sprang to Marjorie’s mind. Aloud, she agreed +that it was. “I ought not to have forgotten my algebra,” she added. +“It’s only a year since I finished it.” + +“See if you think I did this right, will you? I’m curious to know.” The +stranger thrust into her hand a second paper, covered with figures. + +Marjorie inspected it, feeling only mildly interested. “No; you made a +mistake here. It goes this way. Have you a pencil?” + +The pencil promptly forthcoming, the obliging junior seated herself at a +nearby table and diligently went to work. So busy was she that she +failed to note the covert glances which her companion sent now and then +toward the door. But, during the brief space of time in which Marjorie +was engaged with the difficult equation, no one came. Altogether she had +not been in the office longer than fifteen minutes. To her it seemed at +least half an hour. + +“Here you are.” She tendered the finished work to the other girl, who +seized it eagerly with a brief, “Thank you. I can see where I made my +mistake when I have time to compare the two.” With a smile, which +Marjorie thought a trifle patronizing, she carelessly nodded her +gratitude. Laying the printed examination sheet on a pile of similar +papers, she placed a weight upon them and walked gracefully from the +office, taking with her the two sheets of paper, bearing the results of +her own and Marjorie’s labor. + +Another fifteen minutes went by. Still no one came, except a student or +two in quest of Miss Archer. Marjorie decided that she would wait no +longer. She would come back again that afternoon, before the second +session opened. It was almost noon. Were she to return to the study hall +just then, it meant to court the caustic rebuke of Miss Merton. The +locker room offered her a temporary refuge. Accordingly, she wended her +steps toward it. + +“Where were you that last period?” demanded Jerry Macy, coming up behind +her as she stood at the mirror adjusting her rose-weighted hat. + +“Oh, Jerry! How you startled me.” Marjorie swung about. “I was up in +Miss Archer’s office.” + +“So soon?” teased Jerry, putting on a shocked expression. “I _am_ +surprised.” + +“Don’t be so suspicious,” responded Marjorie, adopting Jerry’s bantering +tone. “I had a note, if you please, from Captain, to deliver to Miss +Archer. I saw the new secretary, too.” + +“Humph!” ejaculated Jerry. “You must have only thought you saw her. So +far as I know Miss Archer hasn’t secured a secretary yet.” + +“But she must have,” Marjorie insisted. “There was a tall girl in her +office when I went there. She must surely be the girl to take Marcia’s +place, for she was standing at Miss Archer’s desk, going over some +papers.” + +“That’s funny. What did she look like? You said she was tall?” + +“Yes; tall and very pretty. She had big, black eyes and perfectly +gorgeous auburn hair——” Marjorie broke off with a puzzled frown. Her own +words had a curious reminiscent ring. Someone else had said the very +same thing about——Who had said it, and about whom had it been said? + +“Now I know you didn’t see Miss Archer’s new secretary,” cried Jerry in +triumph. “There’s only one person that can answer to your description. +She’s that Rowena Farnham I told you about, Mignon’s side partner. I +told you she was going to enter the sophomore class. She was probably +waiting for Miss Archer herself. She has to try her exams, I suppose.” + +“But what was she doing at Miss Archer’s desk?” asked Marjorie sharply. +“Why did she answer me and make me think she was the secretary? She told +several other girls that Miss Archer was out!” + +“Search me,” replied Jerry inelegantly. “If she’s much like Mignon it’s +hard to tell what she was up to. Believe me, they’re a precious pair of +trouble-makers and don’t you forget it.” + +“I ought to have recognized her,” faltered Marjorie. A curious sense of +dread had stolen over her. “Don’t you remember Mary described her almost +as I did just now, that day you came to see us, when first you got back +to Sanford?” + +“Well, nobody’s going to kill you because you didn’t, are they?” +inquired Jerry with a grin. “What’s the matter? What makes you look so +solemn?” + +“Oh, I was just wondering,” evaded Marjorie. Outwardly only slightly +ruffled, tumult raged within. She had begun to see clearly what had +hitherto been obscure and the revelation was a severe shock. All she +could hope was that what she now strongly suspected might not, after +all, be true. + + + + +CHAPTER V—A STORMY INTERVIEW + + +Marjorie returned to school that afternoon in a most perturbed state of +mind, occasioned by Jerry Macy’s identification of Rowena Farnham as the +girl whom she had assisted in the working out of the problem in +quadratic equations. She was now almost certain that she had unwittingly +assisted in a most dishonest enterprise. If the papers on Miss Archer’s +desk comprised the trial examination to sophomore estate, then Rowena +had no doubt been guilty of tampering with what should concern her only +at the moment when the test began. If they were the sophomore +examination papers, why had Miss Archer left them thus exposed on her +desk? And now what was she, Marjorie, to do about it? She felt that when +she delivered her mother’s note to Miss Archer, she ought to inform the +principal of what had occurred during her absence. Yet she hated to do +this. It was tale bearing. Besides, her suspicions might prove +unfounded. + +She was still juggling the trying situation when she entered Miss +Archer’s office to deliver her captain’s note. Should she speak of it or +not? The fact that Miss Archer was now accessible but extremely busy, +with several girls occupying the office benches, caused her to put off +her decision for a time. She stopped only long enough to receive a +kindly welcome from the principal and to perform her mission as +messenger. Then she went dejectedly to her recitation in civil +government, wondering resentfully if the event of the morning was the +beginning of an unpleasant year. + +By a determined effort of will, Marjorie put the whole thing aside to +attend strictly to her recitations. But during the study hour that +preceded dismissal for the day, a way of settling the difficulty +presented itself to her. It was not an agreeable way, but her +straightforward soul welcomed it as a means toward settlement. She was +resolved to seek Rowena Farnham and learn the truth. The question of +where to find her was next to be considered. She had not yet made an +appearance into the study hall. Doubtless she was in the little +recitation room on the second floor that was seldom used except in the +case of pupils with special examinations to try. Marjorie mused darkly +as to whether the problem she had obligingly solved would figure in +Rowena’s algebra paper. + +Half-past three saw Marjorie on her way to the locker room, keeping a +sharp lookout for a tall figure crowned with luxuriant auburn hair. Her +vigilance met with no reward, however, and she left the school building +in company with Irma, Jerry, Constance and Susan, deliberating as to +what she had best do next. Outside the high school she caught no glimpse +of her quarry among the throng of girls that came trooping down the wide +stone steps. Although she took part in her friends' animated +conversation, she was steadily thinking of the self-imposed task that +lay before her. + +“Let’s go down to Sargent’s,” proposed Susan, gleefully jingling a +handful of silver that clinked of sundaes and divers delicious cheer. + +“You girls go. I can’t. I’ve an errand to do.” Marjorie’s color rose as +she spoke. + +“Do your errand some other time,” coaxed Susan. “I may not have any +money to spend to-morrow.” + +“I’ll treat to-morrow,” Marjorie assured her. “I can’t possibly put off +my errand. You can imagine I’m with you. Always cultivate your +imagination.” + +Four voices rose to protest her decision, but she remained firm. +“To-morrow,” she compromised. “Please don’t tease me. I can’t really go +with you to-day.” + +“We’ll try to get along without you, just this once,” agreed tactful +Constance. Something in Marjorie’s manner told her that her friend +wished to go on her way alone. + +“Go ahead then, Marjorie. Do your errand, faithful child,” consented +Jerry, who had also scented the unusual and shrewdly speculated as to +whether it had anything to do with their conversation of the morning. + +Anxious, yet regretful, to be free of her chums, Marjorie said good-bye +and hurried off in an opposite direction. Jerry had said that the +Farnhams lived in the beautiful residence that adjoined Mignon La +Salle’s home. It was not a long walk, yet how Marjorie dreaded it. Given +that Rowena were at home, Mignon would, perhaps, be with her. That would +make matters doubly hard. Yet she could do no less than carry out the +interview she felt must take place at the earliest possible moment. + +It was a very grave little girl who opened the ornamental iron gate and +proceeded reluctantly up the long driveway to the huge brown stone +house, set in the midst of a wide expanse of tree-dotted lawn. For all +the residence was a magnificent affair, Marjorie shivered as she mounted +the massive stone steps. There was little of the atmosphere of home +about it. + +“Is Miss Rowena Farnham here?” was her low-voiced question of the +white-capped maid who answered the door. + +“She hasn’t come home from school yet, miss,” informed the maid. “Will +you step into the house and wait for her?” + +“Yes, thank you.” Marjorie followed the woman into a high-ceilinged, +beautifully appointed, square hall and across it to a mammoth +drawing-room, very handsomely furnished, but cheerless, nevertheless. +She felt very small and insignificant as she settled herself lightly on +an ornate gilt chair, to await the arrival of Rowena. + +Her vigil was destined to be tedious, unbroken by the sight of anyone +save the maid, who passed through the hall once or twice on her way to +answer the bell. Even she did not trouble herself to glance through the +half-parted brocade portieres at the lonely little figure in the room +beyond. Consulting her wrist watch, Marjorie read five o’clock. She had +been waiting for over an hour. She guessed that the girl on whom she had +come to call must be with Mignon La Salle. There was at least a grain of +comfort for her in this conjecture. If Mignon were at home now, there +was small chance that she would be present at the interview. + +An impatient hand on the bell sent a shrill, reverberating peal through +the great house. An instant and she heard the maid’s voice, carefully +lowered. There came the sound of quick, questioning tones, which she +recognized. Rowena had at last put in an appearance. Immediately there +followed a flinging back of the concealing portieres and the girl who +had sprung into Marjorie’s knowledge so unbecomingly that morning walked +into the room. + +“You wished to see——Oh, it’s you!” The tall girl’s black eyes swept her +uninvited guest with an expression far from cordial. + +“Yes, it is I,” Marjorie’s inflection was faintly satirical. “I made a +mistake about you this morning. I thought you were Miss Archer’s new +secretary.” She lost no time in going directly to the point. + +For answer Rowena threw back her auburn head and laughed loudly. “I +fooled you nicely, didn’t I?” According to outward signs her conscience +was apparently untroubled. + +“Yes,” returned Marjorie quietly. “Why did you do it?” + +Rowena’s laughing lips instantly took on a belligerent curve. The very +evenness of the inquiry warned her that trouble was brewing for her. +“See here,” she began rudely, “what did you come to my house for? I’m +not pleased to see you. Judging from several things I’ve heard, I don’t +care to know you.” + +Marjorie paled at the rebuff. She had half expected it, yet now that it +had come she did not relish it. At first meeting she had been irritated +by the other girl’s almost rude indifference. Now she had dropped all +semblance of courtesy. + +“I hardly think it matters about your knowing or not knowing me,” she +retorted in the same carefully schooled tone. “You, of course, are the +one to decide that. What does matter is this—I must ask you to tell me +exactly why you wished me to work out that quadratic problem for you. It +is quite necessary that I should know.” + +“Why is it so necessary?” + +“Because I must believe one of two things,” was Marjorie’s grave +response. “I must have the truth. I won’t be kept in the dark about it. +Either you only pretended to play secretary as a rather peculiar joke, +or else you did it purposely because——” She hesitated, half ashamed to +accuse the other of dishonesty. + +“What will you do if I say I did it on purpose?” tantalized Rowena. “Go +to your Miss Archer, I suppose, with a great tale about me. I understand +that is one of your little pastimes. Now listen to me, and remember what +I say. You think I was prying into those examination papers, don’t you?” + +“I’d rather not think so.” Marjorie raised an honest, appealing glance +to meet the mocking gleam of Rowena’s black eyes. + +“Who cares what _you_ think? You are a goody-goody, and I never saw one +yet that I’d walk across the street with. Whatever I want, I always get. +Remember that, too. If your dear Miss Archer hadn’t been called to +another part of the building, I might never have had a chance to read +over those examinations. She went away in a hurry and left me sitting in +the office. Naturally, as her desk was open, I took a look to see what +there was to see. I wasn’t afraid of any subject but algebra. I’m n. g. +in that. So I was pretty lucky to get a chance to read over the +examination. I knew right away by the questions that it was the one I’d +have to try. + +“My father promised me a pearl necklace if I’d pass all my tests for the +sophomore class. Of course I wanted to win it. That quadratic problem +counted thirty credits. It meant that without it I’d stand no chance to +pass algebra. I couldn’t do it, and I was in despair when you came into +the office. If you hadn’t been so stupid as to take me for Miss Archer’s +secretary and hadn’t said you were a junior, I’d have let you alone. +That secretary idea wasn’t bad, though. It sent those other girls about +their business. I thought _you_ could do that problem if _I_ couldn’t. +It’s a good thing you did. I copied it in examination this afternoon and +I know it’s right,” she ended triumphantly. + +Sheer amazement of the girl’s bold confession rendered Marjorie silent. +Never in all her life had she met a girl like Rowena Farnham. Her calm +admittance to what Marjorie had suspected was unbelievable. And she +appeared to feel no shame for her dishonesty. She gloried in it. Finding +her voice at last, the astounded and dismayed interviewer said with +brave firmness: “I can’t look at this so lightly, Miss Farnham. It +wasn’t fair in you to deceive me into doing a thing like that.” + +“What’s done can’t be undone,” quoted Rowena, seemingly undisturbed by +the reproof. “You are as deep in the mud as I am in the mire. You helped +me, you know.” + +“I will not be included in such dishonesty.” Marjorie sprang angrily to +her feet and faced Rowena. “If Miss Archer knew this she would not +accept your algebra paper. She might not wish to accept you as a pupil, +either. I hoped when I came here this afternoon that everything would +turn out all right, after all. I hoped that paper might not be the +algebra test you were to have. I don’t wish to tell Miss Archer, yet +it’s not fair to either of us that you should masquerade under false +colors. You have put me in a very hard position.” + +It was now Rowena who grew angry. During the interview she had remained +standing, looking down on the girl in the chair with amused contempt. +Marjorie’s flash of resentment unleashed a temper that had ever been the +despair of Rowena’s father and mother. Her dark eyes glowed like live +coals, her tall, slender body shook with fury. “If you dare go to Miss +Archer with what I’ve told you, I’ll put you in a much harder position. +I’ll make you lose every friend you have in school. I know all about +you. You’ve bullied and snubbed poor Mignon La Salle and made her lose +_her_ friends. But you can’t bully or threaten or snub me. I didn’t want +to come to Sanford to live. It’s nothing but a little, silly country +town. I didn’t want to go to your old school. My father and mother make +me go. My father doesn’t believe in select boarding schools, so I have +to make the best of it. If I pass my examinations into the sophomore +class I’ll make it my business to see that I get whatever I take a +notion to have. You can’t stop me. I’ve always done as I pleased at home +and I’ll do as I please in school. If you tell Miss Archer about this +morning, I’ll see that you get more blame than I. Don’t forget that, +either.” + +Marjorie felt as though she had been caught in a pelting rain of +hail-stones. Yet the furious flow of vituperation which beat down upon +her did not in the least intimidate her. “I am not afraid of anything +you may do or say,” she returned, a staunch little figure of dignified +scorn. “I came to see you in all good faith, willing to give you the +benefit of the doubt. Now that I understand exactly how you feel about +this affair, I won’t trouble you further. Good afternoon.” + +“Stop! What are you going to do?” called Rowena. Marjorie had already +passed into the hall. “You’ve got to tell me before you leave this +house.” She darted after her steadily retreating caller, cheeks flaming. + +At the outer door, Marjorie paused briefly, her hand on the dead latch. +“I said 'good afternoon,'” was her sole response. Then she let herself +out and walked proudly away from the house of inhospitality, oblivious +to the torrent of hot words which the irate Rowena shrieked after her +from the veranda. + + + + +CHAPTER VI—A QUESTION OF SCHOOL-GIRL HONOR + + +“I’ve something to report, Captain.” Marjorie entered her mother’s room +and dropped dispiritedly at her feet. Unpinning her flower-decked hat, +she removed it with a jerk and let it slide to the floor. + +“Well, dear, what is it?” Mrs. Dean cast a half anxious look at her +daughter. The long strip of pink crochet work, destined to become part +of an afghan for Marjorie’s “house” dropped from her hands. Reaching +down she gave the dejected curly head at her knee a reassuring pat. +“What has happened to spoil my little girl’s second day at school?” + +Marjorie flashed an upward glance at her mother that spoke volumes. +“I’ve had a horrid time to-day,” she answered. “Last year, when things +didn’t go right, I kept some of them to myself. This year I’m going to +tell you everything.” Her voice quivering with indignation at the +calamity that had overtaken her unawares, she related the disturbing +events that had so recently transpired. “I don’t know what to do,” she +ended. “Do you think I ought to go to Miss Archer and tell her +everything?” + +“That is a leading question, Lieutenant.” Mrs. Dean continued a +sympathetic smoothing of Marjorie’s curls. “It is one thing to confess +one’s own faults; it is quite another to make public the faults of +someone else. It is hardly fair to Miss Archer to allow this girl to +profit by her own dishonesty. It is not fair to the girl herself. If she +is allowed to pursue, unchecked, a course which will eventually lead to +a great dishonesty, then you would be in a measure responsible. On the +other hand, I abhor a talebearer. I can’t decide at once what you ought +to do. I shall have to think it over and give you my answer later. Your +rights must be considered also. You were an innocent party to a +despicable act, therefore I do not believe that you owe the author of it +any special loyalty. I am not sure but that I ought to go to Miss Archer +myself about it. You have suffered a good deal, since you began going to +Sanford High School, through Mignon La Salle. I do not propose that this +new girl shall spoil your junior year for you. Come to me to-morrow at +this time and I will have made up my mind what is best for you. I am +glad you told me this.” + +“So am I,” sighed Marjorie. “I know that whatever you decide will be +best for me, Captain. I am not afraid for myself. It’s only that I hate +to make trouble for this girl, even though she deserves it. You see it +may mean a good deal to her father and mother to have her get along well +in school. She said her father wouldn’t let her go away to boarding +school. That sounds as though he wanted her to be at home where he could +look after her.” + +“That must also be considered,” agreed Mrs. Dean. “Now don’t worry about +this affair any more. I am sure we shall find the wisest way out of it +for everyone concerned. You had better run along now and get ready for +dinner. It’s almost half past six.” + +Marjorie reached for her discarded hat. Scrambling to her feet she +embraced her mother and went to her room, infinitely cheered. As she +left the room, Mrs. Dean sent after her a glance freighted with motherly +protection. She had no sympathy for a girl such as Marjorie had +described Rowena Farnham to be, and she uttered a mental prayer of +thankfulness that her own daughter was above reproach. + +No further mention of the affair was made between mother and daughter +that evening. Nevertheless, Marjorie went to school the next morning in +a far from buoyant mood. She had been wakened by a reverberating roll of +thunder, followed by the furious beating of rain against her windows. A +true child of sunshine, the steady tapping of the heavy drops filled her +with a dread sense of oppression which she could not shake off. + +By noon, however, it had passed away with the storm. When she went home +to luncheon the sun was high in the sky. The rain-washed streets were +rapidly succumbing to his warm smile. Only a puddle here and there, or a +shower of silver drops from a breeze-shaken tree remained to remind her +of the morning deluge. + +Returning from luncheon, she had hardly gained her seat when Miss Merton +stalked down the aisle to her desk. “Report to Miss Archer at once, Miss +Dean,” she commanded in her most disagreeable manner. + +Marjorie’s thoughts immediately flew to yesterday. Was it possible that +Rowena Farnham had gone to the principal of her own volition? It was +hardly to be credited. Remembering her mother’s note, Marjorie jumped to +the conclusion that this was the most probable reason for the summons. + +“Good afternoon, Marjorie,” greeted Miss Archer from her desk, as the +pretty junior appeared in the doorway. “Come here, my dear. I have +something rather unusual to show you.” She motioned Marjorie to draw up +a chair beside her own. “I wonder if you can throw any light upon this.” + +“This” was an open letter, which she now tendered to the puzzled girl. +Marjorie read: + + “Miss Archer: + + “Yesterday morning, at a little after eleven o’clock, Marjorie Dean + and a girl with red hair and black eyes, whose name I do not know, + meddled with the examination papers on your desk while you were in + another part of the building. Marjorie Dean showed the girl how to + do one of the examination problems in algebra. This I know because I + heard them talking about it and saw them have the list of questions. + Such dishonesty is a disgrace to Sanford High School. + + “The Observer.” + +Marjorie allowed the letter to fall from her nerveless hands. She felt +herself grow hot and cold as she forced herself to meet Miss Archer’s +intent scrutiny. Yet she said nothing. Only her brown eyes sent forth +agonized signals of distress. + +Noting her strange demeanor, Miss Archer’s pleasant face hardened. Was +Marjorie Dean really guilty of such dishonor? If innocent, why did she +not hotly proclaim the fact? “I am waiting for you to explain the +meaning of this note, Marjorie,” she reminded sternly. “Can you do so?” + +“Yes,” came the low monosyllable. + +“Then do so at once,” crisply ordered the principal. + +Marjorie drew a long breath. “I can’t explain my part of it without +bringing in someone else,” she faltered. + +“You mean Miss Farnham, I suppose?” + +Marjorie hesitated, then nodded. It appeared that Miss Archer had +already put two and two together. + +“I happen to know that Miss Farnham is the only one who could possibly +answer to the description this letter gives,” continued Miss Archer +impatiently. “She was also the only one to be interested in the papers +on my desk. I sent for you first, however, because I wished to give you +a chance to explain how you happened to figure in this affair. I have +always had a great deal of faith in you, Marjorie. I do not wish to lose +that faith. Now I must insist on knowing exactly what occurred here +yesterday morning. Did you or did you not assist Miss Farnham in solving +a problem in algebra, which she culled from the examination paper in +that subject?” + +“Miss Archer,” Marjorie said earnestly, “I did help Miss Farnham with +that problem, but I had no idea that she was trying to do anything so +dishonorable. It all came about through a mistake. I’d rather she would +explain that part of it. The reason I happened to be in this office was +because of the note my mother asked me to bring you. Miss Farnham was +here when I came in. While I sat waiting for you she asked me to help +her with that problem. I solved it for her and she took it and went +away. I waited a little longer, then left the office.” + +Miss Archer’s stern features gradually relaxed as Marjorie made this +straightforward account of her own actions. The principal noted, +however, that she had revealed considerably less regarding the other +girl. “That is a somewhat indefinite statement,” she said slowly. “You +have not been frank as to Miss Farnham. You are keeping something back. +You must tell me all. I prefer to know the absolute facts from you +before sending for the other party to this affair.” + +“Please don’t ask me to tell you, Miss Archer,” pleaded Marjorie. “I’d +rather not.” + +Miss Archer frowned, This was not the first time that Marjorie had taken +such a stubborn stand. She knew the young girl’s horror of telling +tales. Yet here was something that she deemed it necessary to uncover. +She did not relish being thus balked by a too rigid standard of +school-girl honor. It suddenly occurred to her to wonder how Marjorie +could have been so easily deceived. + +“Do you think this is fair to me?” she questioned sharply. “I feel that +I have behaved very fairly to you in thus far assuming that you are +innocent. There are gaps in your story which must be filled. I wish you, +not Miss Farnham, to supply them. Suppose I were to say, it is very +strange that you did not suspect this girl of trickery.” + +“But I didn’t, truly I didn’t,” sounded the half-tearful protest. + +“I am not actually saying that you suspected her. Tell me this, at +least. Did you know that the problem she asked you to solve for her was +from the examination sheet?” + +“I—she——” stammered the unfortunate junior. + +“You did know it, then!” exclaimed Miss Archer in pained suspicion. +“This places you in a bad light. If you knew the source of the problem +you can hardly claim innocence now unless you give me absolute proof of +it.” + +“You have my word that I am not guilty.” Her desire to cry vanished. +Marjorie now spoke with gentle dignity. “I try always to be truthful.” + +Miss Archer surveyed the unobliging witness in vexed silence. At heart +she believed Marjorie to be innocent, but she was rapidly losing +patience. “Since you won’t be frank with me, I shall interview Miss +Farnham as soon as she finishes her examinations of the morning. I shall +not allow her to go on with this afternoon’s test until I have reached +the bottom of this affair. Come to my office as soon as you return from +luncheon. That is all.” The principal made a dignified gesture of +dismissal. + +The beseeching glance poor Marjorie directed toward Miss Archer was lost +upon the now incensed woman. She had already begun to busy herself at +her desk. If she had glimpsed the reproach of those mournful eyes, it is +doubtful whether she would have been impressed by them. Secretly she was +wondering whether she had made the mistake of reposing too much +confidence in Marjorie Dean. + + + + +CHAPTER VII—FAITH AND UNFAITH + + +On reaching home that noon Marjorie’s first impulse was to hurry to her +mother with a recital of the morning’s events. Greatly to her dismay, +Delia met her at the door with the announcement that her mistress had +motored to a neighboring town to meet Mr. Dean, who had telegraphed her +from there. They would not arrive home in time for luncheon, probably +not until late in the afternoon. + +Divided between the pleasure of seeing her father and distress +occasioned by Miss Archer’s implied disbelief, Marjorie ate a lonely and +most unsatisfactory luncheon. She could think of nothing other than the +impending session in which she and Rowena Farnham would so soon figure. +She pondered gloomily on the strange way in which the knowledge of +Rowena’s unscrupulous behavior had been borne to Miss Archer. Who could +have written that letter? Could it be laid at the door of one of the +several girls who had inquired for the principal and promptly retired +from the scene? If this were so, then some one of them must have +lingered just outside to spy upon herself and Rowena. She knew the +majority of those who had sought the office while she lingered there. +Only one or two had been strangers. Of those she knew, she could recall +no one of them she would deem guilty of spying. + +As she left her home for the high school, Marjorie smiled in wry fashion +at the thought of Rowena’s anger when she learned that her unfair +tactics had been discovered and reported. If she treated Miss Archer to +a scene similar to that which Marjorie had undergone in Rowena’s home, +she was very likely to find herself out of high school before having +actually entered. As it was, Rowena stood a strong chance of forfeiting +the privilege to try the remainder of her examinations. + +Twenty minutes past one found Marjorie on the threshold of the +principal’s office. At sight of her Miss Archer bowed distantly and went +on with her writing. As yet Rowena had not put in an appearance. Ten +minutes later she strolled nonchalantly in, her bold, black eyes +registering supreme contempt of the world in general. Her smart gown of +delft blue crêpe set off her dazzlingly fair skin and heavy auburn hair +to perfection. She was a stunning young person, and well aware of her +good looks. + +“I understand you wish to see me,” she drawled in a tone bordering on +impatience. Ignoring Marjorie, save for one swift, menacing glance, she +addressed herself to the woman at the desk. + +Miss Archer had already risen. Now she fixed the newcomer with stern, +searching eyes. “Sit over there, Miss Farnham.” She waved her to a seat +beside Marjorie on the oak bench. + +With an insolent shrugging of her shoulders, Rowena sat down, placing +the length of the bench between herself and its other occupant. “Well, +what is it?” she asked unconcernedly. + +Miss Archer’s lips compressed themselves a trifle more firmly. “Your +manner is distinctly disrespectful, Miss Farnham. Kindly remember to +whom you are speaking.” + +Rowena’s shoulders again went into eloquent play. “Oh, excuse me,” she +murmured. + +Ignoring the discourtesy, Miss Archer reached to her desk for the +letter, the contents of which Marjorie already knew. Handing it to +Rowena she said: “Read this letter. You will then understand why I sent +for you.” + +Looking distinctly bored, the girl perused the letter. A tantalizing +smile curved her red lips as she finished. “This is your work,” she +accused, turning to Marjorie. + +The latter opened her brown eyes in genuine amazement. The accusation +was totally unexpected. “You know very well it is not,” she flung back, +the pink in her cheeks deepening. + +“Whatever you have to say, Miss Farnham, you may say to me,” reproved +the principal. “I have already gone over the contents of this letter +with Miss Dean.” + +“I have nothing to say,” replied Rowena serenely. + +“But _I_ have several things to say to you,” reminded Miss Archer +sharply. “I demand a complete explanation of what occurred here during +my absence yesterday morning.” + +“I am afraid you’ve come to the wrong person, then.” Rowena was coolly +defiant. “Miss Dean can answer your question better than I. No doubt she +has already said a number of pleasant things about me.” + +“Miss Dean has said nothing to your discredit. In fact she has refused +to commit herself. She prefers that you do the explaining.” +Unconsciously Miss Archer sprang into irritated defense of Marjorie. + +Rowena’s black eyebrows lifted themselves. So the goody-goody had +refused to betray her! This was decidedly interesting. Her clever brain +at once leaped to the conclusion that with Marjorie’s lips sealed it +would be hard to establish her own dishonesty. In itself the letter +offered no actual proof. It was merely signed “The Observer.” A cunning +expression crept into her eyes. “Someone must have been trying to play a +joke,” she now airily suggested. “The very fact that the letter isn’t +properly signed goes to prove that.” + +“_Miss Farnham!_” The principal’s authoritative utterance betrayed her +great displeasure. “You are overstepping all bounds. Miss Dean herself +has admitted that she solved an algebraic problem for you. I insist on +knowing whether or not that problem was taken from an examination sheet +that lay among others on my desk. If so, there is but one inference to +be drawn. During my absence you tampered with the papers on my desk. No +such thing has ever before occurred in the history of this school. Now I +ask you pointblank, did you or did you not meddle with my papers?” + +Without replying, Rowena’s eyes roved shrewdly to Marjorie, as though +trying to discover what the latter intended to do. Were she to reply to +the question in the negative, would this baby of a girl, whom she +already despised, still maintain silence? + +Apparently, Marjorie read her thought. “Miss Farnham,” she broke in, her +soft voice ringing with purpose, “if you do not answer Miss Archer +truthfully, I, at least, will.” + +That settled it. Nevertheless, Rowena determined that Marjorie should +pay for her interference. “If you must know,” she said sullenly, “I did +glance over them. You had no business to leave them on the desk. Miss +Dean saw me do it, too, but she didn’t seem to mind. I even showed her +that problem in quadratics and told her I couldn’t do it. So she did it +for me.” + +“Is this true?” To the distressed listener Miss Archer’s amazed question +came as a faint and far-off sound. Driven into a corner by Rowena’s +spiteful misrepresentation, Marjorie determined to clear herself of the +opprobrium. “I saw Miss Farnham with the papers,” she affirmed. “She +pointed out to me the one she couldn’t do and I solved it for her. I +thought——” + +“That will do.” Never to Marjorie’s recollection had Miss Archer’s voice +carried with it such unmeasured severity. For once she was too +thoroughly displeased to be just. Only that morning Marjorie had +earnestly proclaimed her innocence. Brought face to face with Rowena, +she had renigged, or so it now seemed to the affronted principal. +Abhoring deceit and untruthfulness, she rashly ticketed her hitherto +favorite pupil with both faults. + +“But Miss Archer,” pleaded Marjorie desperately, “won’t you allow me +to——” + +“It strikes me that too much has already been said that might better +have been left unsaid,” cut in the principal coldly. “You two young +women are guilty of a most despicable bit of work. If it lay within my +power I would expel both of you from the school you have disgraced. This +matter will be taken up by the Board of Education. All I can do is to +send you both home, there to await the decision of those above me. Your +parents shall be informed at once of what has taken place. As for you, +Miss Farnham, in case the Board decides to give you another chance you +will be obliged to take an entirely new set of examinations. In a +measure I hold myself responsible for this. I should have locked my +desk. I have always trusted my pupils. Dishonesty on the part of two of +them is a severe blow. You may both leave the school at once. _You_, +Miss Dean, need not return to the study hall.” + +Rowena Farnham received her dismissal with an elaborate shrug that +plainly indicated how little she cared. Without deigning a reply she +strolled out of the office, apparently as self-possessed as when she had +entered. Marjorie, however, remained rooted to the bench on which she +sat. She could not believe the evidence of her own ears. Neither could +she credit the principal’s sudden unjust stand. + +“Miss Archer,” she faltered, “won’t you——” + +“The subject is closed, Miss Dean. Kindly leave my office.” Miss Archer +refused to meet the two pleading eyes that persistently sought hers. +This self-revelation of the girl’s guilt had dealt her a hurt which she +could not soon forget. To uncover treachery and dishonesty in a friend +is an experience which carries with it its own bitterness. The very fact +that it is unexpected makes it infinitely harder to bear. Miss Archer’s +disappointment in Marjorie was so great as to obscure her usually clear +insight into matters. She had trusted her so implicitly. She felt as +though she could not endure her presence in the office. Now she kept her +gaze resolutely fixed on her desk, nor did she alter it until the echo +of the misjudged lieutenant’s light footfalls had entirely died away. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII—FOR THE GOOD OF THE ARMY + + +Marjorie could never quite recall the details of that dreadful walk +home. Only once before in her short life had she been so utterly +crushed. That was on the day she had rushed from the little gray house, +believing that her beloved Constance was a thief. Now it came back to +her with force. Just as she had felt on that terrible afternoon, so must +Miss Archer be feeling now. Miss Archer thought that she, Marjorie Dean, +was unworthy to be a pupil of Sanford High. “If only Miss Archer had +listened to me,” surged through her troubled brain as she walked the +seemingly endless road home. What would Captain and General say? + +Yet with this thought a gleam of daylight pierced the dark. Her Captain +already knew all. She knew her daughter to be innocent of wrongdoing. +General would believe in her, too. They would not see her thus disgraced +without a hearing. She would yet be able to prove to Miss Archer that +she was blameless of such dishonesty. + +“Well, well!” She had mounted the steps of her home when a cheery voice +thus called out to her. The next instant she was in her father’s arms. +Delight in seeing him, coupled with all she had just undergone, broke +down the difficult composure she had managed to maintain while in Miss +Archer’s presence. With a little sob, Marjorie threw herself into her +father’s arms, pillowing her curly head against his comforting shoulder. + +“My dear child, what has happened?” Mrs. Dean regarded her daughter’s +shaking shoulders with patient anxiety as she cried out the startled +question. + +“There, there, Lieutenant.” Mr. Dean gathered the weeping girl close in +his protecting arms. “Surely you aren’t crying because your worthy +general has come home?” + +“No-o-o,” came the muffled protest. “I’m—glad. It’s—not—that. +I’ve—been—suspended—from—school.” + +“What!” Mr. Dean raised the weeper’s head from his shoulders and gazed +deep into the overflowing brown eyes. + +“It’s true,” gulped Marjorie. “I’m not—to—blame—though. It’s +all—a—misunderstanding.” + +“Then we’ll straighten it out,” soothed Mr. Dean. “Come, now. You and +Captain and I will go into the living room and sit right down on the +nice comfy davenport. Then you can wail your troubles into our +sympathetic ears. Your superior officers will stand by you. You take one +arm, Captain, and I’ll take the other.” + +Resigning herself to the guidance of those who loved her best, Marjorie +suffered herself to be led into the living room and deposited on the +friendly davenport, a solicitous parent on either side. + +“You’re wonderful, both of you,” she sighed, possessing herself of a +hand of each. Her brief gust of grief had spent itself. Her voice was +now almost steady. + +Mrs. Dean had already made a shrewd guess regarding the reason for +Marjorie’s tears. “Is that affair of yesterday responsible for your +suspension from school, Lieutenant?” she questioned abruptly. + +“Yes.” With an occasional quaver in her speech, Marjorie went over the +details of both visits to the principal’s office. + +“Hm!” ejaculated Mr. Dean, his eyes seeking his wife’s. “Suppose you +tell your general the beginning of all this.” + +“It strikes me that Miss Archer behaved in a a rather high-handed +manner,” he observed dryly when Marjorie had ended her sad little story. + +“I can’t blame her so much.” Marjorie was loyal to the death. “I know +just how terribly it must have hurt her. I suppose I should have told +her everything in the first place.” + +Mrs. Dean released Marjorie’s hand and rose from the davenport, intense +determination written on every feature. “Miss Archer will listen to +_me_,” she announced grimly. “I shall go to Sanford High School at once. +My daughter is entitled to justice and she shall receive it. I am +surprised at Miss Archer’s unfair attitude. Go upstairs and bathe your +face, Marjorie. General, will you see to the car?” + +“But she won’t see me, I am afraid.” + +“Nonsense,” returned her mother with unusual brusqueness. Stepping into +the hall, she consulted the telephone directory. “Give me Sycamore 213,” +she called into the transmitter. “Miss Archer? This is Mrs. Dean. +Marjorie has just come from school. I am sure you will accept my word +that she has done nothing dishonest. Will it be convenient for you to +see us at once? Thank you. We will be at the high school within the next +half hour.” + +During the short telephone conversation, Marjorie stood at her mother’s +side, hardly daring to breathe. Mrs. Dean hung up the receiver to the +accompaniment of her daughter’s wild embrace. “Go and make yourself +presentable,” she chided. Disengaging the clinging arms, she gave +Marjorie a gentle shove toward the stairs. + +Youth’s tears are quickly dried, its sorrows soon forgotten. Ten minutes +afterward, a radiant-faced lieutenant presented herself in the hall, +renewed buoyancy in her step as she and her captain passed through the +gate to where the automobile awaited them with Mr. Dean at the wheel. + +“I’ll stay here,” he decided as they drew up before the high school. +“Let our valiant captain lead the charge. You can fall back on your +reserves if you are routed with slaughter.” + +“Captain’s won half the battle,” joyfully declared Marjorie. “Now I am +sure I can win the other half.” Blowing a kiss to her father she set her +face toward vindication. + +Miss Archer greeted Mrs. Dean in a friendly, impersonal fashion, which +showed plainly that she was not displeased with the latter for taking +such prompt action. Her bow to Marjorie was distinctly reserved, +however. She had yet to be convinced of the girl’s innocence. + +“According to Marjorie’s story, Miss Archer,” began Mrs. Dean with +gentle directness, “she has been the victim of circumstantial evidence. +I am not here to criticize your stand in this affair. I understand that +you must have been severely tried. I merely wish to ask you to allow +Marjorie to tell her story from beginning to end. She came to me +yesterday with it, and asked my advice. I deferred decision until +to-day. It seems I was a day too late. However, I wish her to do the +explaining.” + +A faint, embarrassed flush stole to Miss Archer’s face as she listened. +She was beginning to realize that she had for once been too quick to +condemn. Mrs. Dean was too high-principled a woman to attempt to smooth +over her own child’s offences. Under the battery of her friend’s clear +eyes, the principal found herself penitently responding: “Mrs. Dean, I +must admit that I am at fault. Had I stopped to listen to Marjorie, I am +now certain that I should have found her explanation satisfactory.” + +“Thank you.” Mrs. Dean extended a gracious hand in which the principal +laid her own with a smile. The two women understood each other +perfectly. + +Marjorie’s sensitive lips quivered as Miss Archer’s hand went out to her +also. “I am only too glad to be able to apologize for misjudging you, +Marjorie,” she said with grave gentleness. “The truest atonement which I +can make is to say 'I believe in you' without a hearing.” + +“But I wish to tell you everything, Miss Archer,” assured Marjorie +earnestly. “It was only because I hated the idea of tale-bearing that I +didn’t tell you this morning. I thought that Miss Farnham——” + +“Would tell me,” supplemented the principal. “I quite understand. +Frankly it would help me very much if you put me in complete possession +of the facts of the case. I hardly believe you owe it to Miss Farnham to +conceal anything.” + +With a charitable striving toward placing the other girl in the least +obnoxious light, Marjorie gave Miss Archer a true but unmalicious +version of all that had passed between herself and Rowena Farnham. + +“This is simply outrageous,” was Miss Archer’s emphatic verdict. “Miss +Farnham is a menace to Sanford High School. In all my experience with +young women I have never met with her equal. I shall recommend the Board +that she be not allowed to enter the school. A firebrand such as she has +shown herself to be is more than likely to spread her devastating +influence throughout the school. We have a duty to perform to the +parents who intrust their daughters to us which cannot be overlooked.” + +“I agree with you,” was Mrs. Dean’s grave response. “Still, I am very +sorry for this girl, and for her parents. We all wish to be proud of our +children. It must be dreadful to be disappointed in them.” + +“You, at least, will never be called upon to bear such a +disappointment.” Miss Archer’s hearty reply caused an exchange of +affectionate glances between her hearers. + +“I hope I shall always prove worthy of Captain’s and your trust.” +Marjorie’s little speech rung with modest sincerity. Hesitatingly she +added: “Miss Archer, couldn’t you possibly give Miss Farnham another +chance? When I was at her house the other day she said that her father +and mother wanted her to go to high school. She’d rather go to boarding +school, but they won’t let her. If she isn’t allowed to enter Sanford +High she will have to go away to school. That might not be the best +thing for her.” Marjorie paused, blushing at her own temerity. + +“You are a very forgiving little girl.” Miss Archer eyed the pleader in +a whimsical fashion. “There is a great deal in your view of the matter, +too. It is a question of one girl’s parents against many, however. So +far as I can remember this is the first case in the history of the +school that warranted dismissal. As you have been the chief sufferer in +this tangle, your plea for clemency should be respected. It shall be +mentioned to the members of the Board of Education. That is all I can +promise now. Personally, as _you_ are great-spirited enough to plead for +her, I am willing to do my part. But only on your account. I doubt the +advisability of allowing her to go on with her examinations. However, +'forewarned is forearmed.' Should she be permitted to enter the school, +I shall keep a watchful eye on her.” + +Real admiration of Marjorie’s readiness to help one who had treated her +so shabbily caused the principal to speak as confidentially to her pupil +as she might have to a member of the Board. Marjorie, as well as her +mother, was aware of this. Yet far from being elated at the mark of +confidence, the pretty junior bore her honors almost humbly. She merely +thanked Miss Archer in the sweet, gracious fashion that set her apart +from all other girls with whom the principal had come in contact during +her long service on the field of education. + +Almost immediately afterward the Deans said farewell and departed +happily to convey the good news to their somewhat impatient chauffeur, +who sat in the automobile pondering whimsically on the length and +breadth of women’s chats. Long after they had gone, Marjorie’s winsome, +selfless personality haunted the busy principal. To be truly great one +must be truly good was her inner reflection. Remembering past +circumstances in which Marjorie had figured ever as a force for good, +she marveled that she could have doubted her. And as a vision of the +girl’s lovely face, animated by the light from within, rose before her +she mentally prophesied that Marjorie Dean was destined one day to reach +the heights. + + + + +CHAPTER IX—A SUDDEN ATTACK + + +“Where were you yesterday afternoon?” demanded Jerry Macy, as Marjorie +walked into the locker room at the close of the morning session. + +Marjorie considered for a moment. Should she tell Jerry or should she +not? She decided in the negative. “I was at home a part of the +afternoon.” + +Jerry measured her with a calculating eye. “You don’t want to tell me, +do you?” was her blunt question. “All right. Forget it. Anyway, we +missed you. You’re a mysterious person. One day you march off on a dark, +secret errand after making lavish promises to treat on the next. When +that day rolls around you don’t appear at all. Never mind. I saved your +face by treating for you.” Jerry delivered her opinion of her friend’s +peculiar behavior good-humoredly enough. Underneath, however, she was a +tiny bit peeved. She was very fond of Marjorie and prided herself that +she was entirely in the latter’s confidence. + +“You’re not cross with me, are you, Jerry?” Marjorie regarded the stout +girl rather anxiously. She could not conceive of being on the outs with +funny, bluff Geraldine Macy. + +“No; I’m not a silly like Mignon,” mumbled Jerry gruffly. “You ought to +know that by this time without asking me.” + +“Jerry Macy, I believe you are angry with me,” declared Marjorie, +looking still more troubled. + +“No, I’m not,” came the quick retort. “I’m not blind, either, and my +head isn’t made of wood.” + +“What do you mean?” It was Marjorie’s turn to speak quickly. + +“Just what I say,” asserted Jerry. “You’ve had some sort of trouble over +that Farnham girl. Rowena—humph! It ought to be Row-ena with a special +accent on the _Row_. I knew by the way you looked and spoke of her day +before yesterday that something had gone wrong. I’ll bet I know where +you went on that errand, too. You went to her house. Now didn’t you?” + +Marjorie gave a short laugh. It held a note of vexation. “Really, Jerry, +you ought to be a detective. How did you know where I went yesterday +after I left you?” + +“Oh, I just guessed it. It’s like you to do that sort of thing. I’m +dying to hear what it’s all about. Are you going to tell me _now_?” She +accented the “now” quite triumphantly. + +“I hadn’t intended to mention it to anyone, but I might as well tell +_you_. You seem to know quite a little bit about it already. I can’t say +anything more now. Here come Susan and Muriel. We’ll talk of it after we +leave them at their street. By the way, where is Constance? She wasn’t +in school this morning.” + +“Don’t know. I wondered about her, too. She didn’t say yesterday that +she wasn’t coming to school to-day. Maybe her father marched into Gray +Gables without notice.” + +“Perhaps. I’ll ask the girls if they know.” + +Neither Susan, Muriel nor Irma, the latter joining the quartette +immediately after, knew the reason for Constance Stevens' absence. The +five girls trooped out of the building together, chatting gaily as they +started home for luncheon. Marjorie gave a little shiver as it occurred +to her how near she had come to losing her right to be a pupil of +Sanford High. She felt that nothing save the loss of her dear ones would +have hurt her more than to have been dismissed from school under a +cloud. + +“Now tell me everything,” began Jerry, the moment they had parted from +the three girls to continue on up the pleasant, tree-lined avenue. + +“I think that was simply _awful_,” burst forth the now irate Jerry, as +Marjorie concluded her narration. “Talk about Mignon—she’s an angel with +beautiful feathery wings, when you come to compare her with Row-ena. I +hope the Board says she can’t set foot in school again. That’s what I +hope. I’ll tell my father to vote against letting her try any more +examinations. That’s what I’ll do.” + +“You mustn’t do that.” Marjorie spoke with unusual severity. “What I’ve +said to you is in confidence. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair. For her +father’s and mother’s sake I think she ought to have another chance. It +might be the very best thing for her to go to high school. She will be +far better off at home than away at boarding school. If she could go +away to a college it would be different. Colleges are more strict and +dignified. A girl just has to live up to their traditions. General says +that even in the most select boarding schools the girls have too much +liberty. So you see it wouldn’t be a good place for this girl.” + +“I see you’re a goose,” was Jerry’s unflattering comment. “You’re a dear +goose, though. You certainly have the reform habit. I can tell you, +though, that you are all wrong about this Farnham girl. You remember how +beautifully we reformed Mignon, and how grateful she was. Mignon’s a +mere infant beside gentle, little Row-ena. You notice I still say _Row_. +It’s a very good name for her. Of course, we could change off +occasionally and call her Fightena, or Quarrelena, or Scrapena.” Jerry +giggled at her own witticism. + +Marjorie could not forbear joining her. Jerry’s disapproval of things +was usually tinged with comedy. “You’re a heartless person, Jeremiah,” +she reproved lightly. “I’m not going to try to reform Miss Farnham. I +can’t imagine her as taking kindly to it. I’m only saying that she ought +to have another chance.” + +“Well, if you can stand it I can,” Jerry sighed, then chuckled as her +vivid imagination pictured to her the high-handed Rowena struggling in +the clutches of reform. “Miss Archer ought to have thought twice and +spoken once,” she added grimly. “That’s what she’s always preaching to +us to do.” Jerry was no respecter of personages. + +“I can’t blame her much,” Marjorie shook her head. “It’s dreadful to +think that someone you’ve trusted is dishonorable. It hurts a good deal +worse than if it were someone you had expected would fail you. I +_know_.” + +“I suppose you do.” Jerry understood the significant “I know.” Rather +more gently she continued: “Perhaps you’re right about Fightena, I mean +Row-ena. You generally are right, only you’ve got into some tangled webs +trying to prove it. Anyway, she won’t be a junior if she does manage to +get into school. She’ll be a sophomore. I hope she stays where she +belongs. You’d better look out for her, though. If she really thinks you +wrote that anonymous letter—I don’t believe she does—she’ll try to get +even. With Mignon La Salle to help, she might bother you a good deal. I +hope they have a falling out.” + +“You are always hoping some terrible thing,” laughed Marjorie. “You have +the hoping habit, and your hopes about other people are really +horrifying.” + +“Never mind, they never amount to much,” consoled Jerry with a chuckle. +“I’ve been hoping awful things about people I don’t like for years and +that’s all the good it’s ever done.” + +“I think I’ll run over to Gray Gables after school,” Marjorie changed +the subject with sudden abruptness. “Want to go with me?” + +“I’ll go,” assented Jerry. “I owe Charlie a box of candy. I promised it +to him the night of Mary’s farewell party. Mary wrote me a dandy letter. +Did I tell you about it?” + +“No. I’ve had one from her, too; eighteen pages.” + +“Some letter. Mine was only ten.” + +The introduction of Mary’s name into the conversation kept the two girls +busy talking until they were about to part company. + +“Don’t forget you are going with me to see Constance,” reminded Marjorie +as Jerry left her at the Macys' gate. + +“Do you believe that I could possibly forget?” Jerry laid a fat hand +over her heart in ridiculous imitation of a certain sentimental high +school youth whom Marjorie continually endeavored to dodge. + +“See that you don’t,” was her laughing retort. “Shall we ask Muriel, +Susan and Irma to go with us?” + +“None of them can go. Muriel has to take a piano lesson. Susan has a +date with her dressmaker, and Irma’s going shopping with her mother. You +see I know everything about everybody,” asserted Jerry, unconsciously +repeating Constance Stevens' very words. + +“You surely do,” Marjorie agreed. “Good-bye, then. I’ll meet you in the +locker room after school to-night.” + +“My name is Johnny-on-the-spot,” returned the irrepressible Jerry over +her shoulder. + +“Oh, dear!” Marjorie exclaimed in impatience, as she walked into the +locker room at the end of the afternoon session to find Jerry already +there ahead of her. “I’ve left my Cæsar in my desk. I’ll have to go back +after it. That lesson for to-morrow is dreadfully long. Somehow I +couldn’t keep my attention on study that last hour, so I just bundled +all my books together and thought I’d put in a busy evening. I don’t see +how I missed my Commentaries. It shows that my mind was wandering.” + +“Come on over to my house this evening. You can use my Cæsar. We’ll put +one over on the busy little bee and have some fun afterward. Besides, +Hal will be grateful to me for a week. I’ll make good use of his +gratitude, too,” grinned wily Jerry. + +Marjorie’s cheeks grew delightfully pink. In her frank, girlish fashion +she was very fond of Jerry’s handsome brother. Although her liking for +him was not one of foolish sentimentality, she could not help being a +trifle pleased at this direct insinuation of his preference for her. + +“All right. I’m sure Captain will say 'yes,'” she made reply. “I won’t +bother to go back after my book. If I did Miss Merton might snap at me. +I try to keep out of her way as much as I can. Where are the girls? Have +they gone?” + +“Yes, they beat it in a hurry. Come on. Let’s be on our way.” Though +deplorably addicted to slang, Jerry was at least forcefully succinct. + +It was a fairly long walk to Gray Gables, but their way led through one +of the prettiest parts of Sanford. Situated almost on the outskirts of +the town, the picturesque dwelling was in itself one of the beauty spots +of the thriving little city. + +“There’s the Jail.” Jerry indexed a plump finger toward the inhospitable +stone house which Marjorie had so lately visited. The two girls had +reached the point where a turn in the wide, elm-shaded avenue brought +them within sight of the La Salle and Farnham properties. “It would be a +good place for Row-ena, if she had to stay locked up there. She could +think over her sins and reform without help. I hope——” + +“There you go again,” laughed Marjorie. “Don’t do it. Suppose some day +all these things you have hoped about other people were to come back to +you.” + +“I won’t worry about it until they do,” Jerry made optimistic answer. +“If I——” She checked herself to stare at a runabout that shot past them, +driven at a reckless rate of speed by an elfish-faced girl. “There they +go!” she exclaimed. “Did you see who was in that machine? Oh, look! +They’re slowing up! Now they’ve stopped! I hope they’ve had a +break-down.” + +Marjorie’s eyes were already riveted on the runabout which they were now +approaching. A tall figure whom she at once recognized as belonging to +Rowena Farnham was in the act of emerging from the machine. Hatless, her +auburn head gleaming in the sun, her black eyes flaming challenge, she +stood at one side of the runabout, drawn up for battle. + +“She’s waiting for us!” gasped Jerry. “Let’s turn around and walk the +other way, just to fool her. No; let’s not. I guess we can hold our +own.” + +“I shall have nothing to say to her,” decided Marjorie, a youthful +picture of cold disdain. “Don’t you say a word, either, Jerry. We’ll +walk on about our own business, just as though we didn’t even see her.” + +Jerry had no time to reply. Almost immediately they caught up with the +belligerent Rowena. Realizing that her quarry was about to elude her, +she sprang squarely in front of them with, “Wait a minute. I’ve +something to say to _you_.” The “you” was directed at Marjorie. + +Marjorie was about to circle the lively impediment and move on, when +Mignon La Salle called from the runabout, “I told you she was a coward, +Rowena.” A scornful laugh accompanied the insult. + +That settled it. Marjorie’s recent resolution flew to the winds. “I will +hear whatever you have to say,” she declared quietly, stopping short. + +“I don’t very well see how you can do anything else,” sneered Rowena. “I +suppose you think that you gained a great deal by your tale-bearing +yesterday, don’t you? Let me tell you, you’ve made a mistake. I’m going +to be a sophomore in Sanford High School just the same. You’ll see. You +are a sneaking little prig, and I’m going to make it my business to let +every girl in school know it. You can’t——” + +“_You_ can’t talk like that to Marjorie Dean.” Before Marjorie could +reply, Jerry Macy leaped into a hot defense. “I won’t have it! She is my +friend.” + +“Shh! Jerry, please don’t,” Marjorie protested. + +“I will. Don’t stop me. You,” she glared at Rowena, “make me sick. I +could tell you in about one minute where you get off at, but it isn’t +worth the waste of breath. Marjorie Dean has more friends in a minute in +Sanford High than you’ll ever have. You think you and Mignon La Salle +can do a whole lot. Better not try it, you’ll wish you hadn’t. Now get +busy and beat it. You’re blocking the highway.” + +“What a delightful person you are,” jeered Rowena. “Just the sort of +friend I’d imagine Miss Dean might have. As I have had the pleasure of +telling her what I think of her, you may as well hear my opinion of +yourself. You are the rudest girl I ever met, and the slangiest. My +father and mother would never forgive me if they knew I even spoke to +such a girl.” Having delivered herself of this Parthian shot, Rowena +wheeled and stepped into the runabout with, “Go ahead, Mignon. I don’t +care to be seen talking with such persons.” + +As the runabout started away with a defiant chug, Jerry and Marjorie +stared at each other in silence. + +“I hope——” began Jerry, then stopped. “Say,” she went on the next +instant, “that was what Hal would call a hot shot, wasn’t it?” + +“It was,” Marjorie admitted. In spite of her vexation at the unexpected +attack, she could hardly repress a smile. Quite unknowingly Rowena had +attacked Jerry’s pet failing. Her constant use of popular slang was a +severe cross to both her father and mother. Over and over she had been +lectured by them on this very subject, only to maintain that if Hal used +slang she saw no reason why she shouldn’t. To please them she made +spasmodic efforts toward polite English, but when excited or angry she +was certain to drop back into this forceful but inelegant vernacular. + +“I suppose I do use a whole lot of slang.” Jerry made the admission +rather ruefully. “Mother says I’m the limit. There I go again. I mean +mother says I’m—what am I?” she asked with a giggle. + +“You are a very good friend, Jerry.” Marjorie looked her affection for +the crestfallen champion of her rights. “I wouldn’t worry about what +she—Miss Farnham says. If you think you ought not to use slang, then +just try not to use it.” Marjorie was too greatly touched by Jerry’s +loyalty to peck at this minor failing. “What a strange combination those +two girls make!” she mused. “I can’t imagine them being friends for very +long. They are both too fond of having their own way. I must say I +wasn’t scared by all those threats. It isn’t what others say about one +that counts, it’s what one really is that makes a difference.” + +“That’s just what I think,” agreed Jerry. “We all know Mignon so well +now that we can pretty nearly beat her at her own game. As for this +Rowena, she’d better wait until she gets back into Sanford High before +she plans to do much. All that sort of thing is so silly and useless, +now isn’t it? It reminds me of these blood-and-thunder movies like 'The +Curse of a Red Hot Hate,' or 'The Double-dyed Villain’s Horrible +Revenge,' or 'The Iron Hand of Hatred’s Death-Dealing Wallop.'” Jerry +saw fit to chuckle at this last creation of fancifully appropriate +title. “You’re right about those two, though. Don’t you remember I said +the same thing when I first told you of this Farnham girl? Mignon has +met her match, at last. She’ll find it out, too, before she’s many weeks +older, or my name’s not Jerry Macy.” + + + + +CHAPTER X—A CRUSHING PENALTY + + +As Jerry had guessed, Constance Stevens' absence from school was due to +the fact that her foster-father had descended upon Gray Gables for a +brief visit. He was delighted to see both Marjorie and Jerry. Constance +insisted that they should remain to dinner, whereupon the tireless +telephone was put into use and the two remained at Gray Gables, there to +spend a most agreeable evening. At about eleven o’clock Hal Macy +appeared to take them home in the Macy’s smart limousine. Thus, in the +pleasure of being with her friends, Marjorie quite forgot the +disagreeable incident that had earlier befallen herself and Jerry. +Strange to say, Cæsar’s Commentaries, also, faded from recollection, and +it was not until they were driving home that the estimable Roman was +tardily remembered along with previous good intentions. “It’s unprepared +for ours,” was Jerry’s doleful cry, thereby proving that the will to +abolish slang was better than the deed. + +Due to placing pleasure before duty, Marjorie felt it incumbent upon her +to make an early entrance into school the next morning for the purpose +of taking a hasty peep at her neglected text books. She was lucky, she +told herself, in that the last hour in the morning would give her an +opportunity to go over her Cæsar lesson. She, therefore, confined her +attention to her English literature, deciding that she could somehow +manage to slide through her French without absolute failure. Civil +government would also have to take its chance for one recitation. + +When at fifteen minutes past eleven she came into the study hall from +French class and settled herself to begin the business of Latin, she was +for once glad to lay hold on the fat, green volume devoted to the doings +of the invincible Cæsar. Opening it, a faint cluck of surprise fell from +her lips as she took from it a square, white envelope addressed to +herself. It was unsealed and as she drew forth the folded paper which it +held she wondered mightily how it had come to be there. She was very +sure she had not placed it in the book. Her bewilderment deepened as she +read: + + “Miss Dean: + + “After what occurred the other day in the principal’s office it is + surprising that you were not expelled from Sanford High School. It + proves you to be a special pet of Miss Archer. Such unfairness is + contemptible in a principal. It should be exposed, along with your + dishonesty. Sooner or later even that will be found out and you will + receive your just deserts. It is a long lane that has no turning. + + “The Observer.” + +Marjorie emitted a faint sigh of pure amazement as she finished reading +this sinister prediction of her ultimate downfall. It was a piece of +rank absurdity, evidently penned by someone who had no intimate +knowledge of inside facts. Still it filled her with a curious sense of +horror. She loathed the very idea of an anonymous letter. Once before +since she had first set foot in Sanford High the experience of receiving +one of these mysterious communications had been hers. It had pertained +to basket ball, however. She had easily guessed its origin and it had +troubled her little. This letter was of an entirely different character. +It proved that among the girls with whom she daily met and associated +there was one, at least, who did not wish her well. + +As she reread the spiteful message, her thoughts leaped to Rowena +Farnham as the person most open to suspicion. Yet Rowena had made a +direct attack upon her. Again there was Mignon. She was wholly capable +of such a deed. Strangely enough, Marjorie was seized with the belief +that neither girl was responsible for it. She did not know why she +believed this to be true. She simply accepted it as such, and cudgelled +her brain for another more plausible solution of the mystery. + +As she studied it the more she became convinced that the writing was the +same as that of the similarly signed letter Miss Archer had received. +The stationery, too, was the same. The words, “The Observer,” were the +crowning proof which entirely exonerated Rowena. She had certainly not +written the first note. Therefore, she had not written the second. +Marjorie was in a quandary as to whether or not she should go frankly to +the principal and exhibit the letter. She felt that Miss Archer would +wish to see it, and at once take the matter up. She could hardly charge +Rowena with it, thereby lessening her chances of entering the school. +This second note made no mention of Rowena. Its spitefulness was +directed entirely toward Marjorie herself. As it pertained wholly to +her, she believed that it might be better to keep the affair locked +within her own breast. After all, it might amount to nothing. No doubt, +Rowena had related her own version of the algebra problem to Mignon. +Mignon was noted for her malicious powers of gossip. A garbled account +on her part of the matter might have aroused some one of her few allies +to this cowardly method of attack. Still this explanation would not +cover the writing of the first letter. + +Quite at sea regarding its source, Marjorie gave the distasteful missive +an impatient little flip that sent it fluttering off her desk to the +floor. Reaching down she lifted it, holding it away from her as though +it were a noisome weed. She burned to tear it into bits, but an inner +prompting stayed her destroying hands. Replacing it in the envelope, she +tucked it inside her silk blouse, determining to file it away at home in +case she needed it for future reference. She hoped, however, that it +would never be needed. Whoever had slipped it into her Cæsar must have +done so after she had left her desk on the previous afternoon, following +the close of the session. She wished she knew those who had lingered in +the study hall after half-past three. This she was not likely to learn. +Her own intimate friends had all passed out of the study hall at the +ringing of the closing bell. She resolved that she would make casual +inquiries elsewhere in the hope of finding a clue. + +During the rest of the week she pursued this course with tactful +assiduousness, but she could discover nothing worth while. What she did +learn, however, was that due to a strenuous appeal to the Board of +Education on the part of Mr. Farnham, his daughter had been allowed, on +strict promise of future good behavior, to try an entirely new set of +examinations. Fortune must have attended her, for on the next Monday she +appeared in the study hall as radiantly triumphant as though she had +received a great honor, rather than a reluctant admission into the +sophomore fold. + +“Well, she got there!” hailed Jerry Macy in high disgust, happening to +meet Marjorie in the corridor between classes on the morning of Rowena’s +retarded arrival. “My father said they had quite a time about it. She +got into school by just one vote. He wouldn’t tell me which way he +voted, but he said he was glad she wasn’t his daughter.” + +“I’m honestly glad for hers and her parents' sake that she was allowed +another trial.” Marjorie spoke with sincere earnestness. “She’s had a +severe lesson. She may profit by it and get along without any more +trouble.” + +“Profit by nothing,” grumbled Jerry. “She can’t change her disposition +any more than a cat can grow feathers or an ostrich whiskers. Row-ena, +Scrapena, Fightena, Quarrelena she is and will be forever and forever. +Let’s not talk about her. She makes me—I mean I feel somewhat languid +whenever her name is mentioned.” Jerry delivered her polite emendation +with irresistible drollery. “Did you know that there’s to be a junior +basket ball try-out next Tuesday after school?” + +“No.” Marjorie’s interest was aroused. “Who told you? It certainly +hasn’t been announced.” + +“Ellen Seymour told me. She’s going to help Miss Davis manage the team +this year in Marcia Arnold’s place. I imagine she’ll do most of the +managing. I guess Miss Davis had enough of basket ball last year. She +told Ellen that it took up too much of her time. She knew, I guess, that +the upper class girls wouldn’t relish her interference. Ellen says you +must be sure to be at the try-out. She hopes you——” Jerry left off +speaking and looked sheepish. + +“Well, why don’t you finish? What does Ellen wish me to do?” + +“You’ll find out at the try-out. Now don’t ask me any more questions +about it.” Jerry’s cheerful grin belied her brusque words. + +“You’re a very tantalizing person,” smiled Marjorie. “There goes the +second bell. I’ll see you later.” She scudded away, wondering what it +was that Jerry had stoutly refused to reveal. Evidently, it must be +something of pleasant import, else Jerry would have frowned rather than +smiled. + +The next day, directly after opening exercises, Miss Merton dryly read +out the official call to the try-out. It was received by the junior +section with an audible joy which she sternly quenched. Miss Merton was +in even less sympathy with “that rough-and-tumble game” than she was +with the girls who elected to play it. It was directly due to her that +Miss Davis had lost interest in it. + +To those intimately interested in making the junior team, the Tuesday +afternoon session seemed interminable. Eager eyes frequently consulted +the moon-faced study-hall clock, as its hands traveled imperturbably +toward the hour of reprieve. Would half-past three never come? At ten +minutes past three Muriel Harding’s impatience vented itself in the +writing of a heart-felt complaint to Marjorie. She wrote: + + “This afternoon is one hundred years long. Darling Miss Merton + wishes it was two hundred. The very idea that we are going to the + try-out gives her pain. She hates herself, but she hates basket ball + worse. If I should invite her to the try-out she would gobble me up. + So I shall not risk my precious self. You may do the inviting.” + +This uncomplimentary tribute to Miss Merton was whisked successfully +down the section and into Marjorie’s hands. As note-passing was +obnoxious to the crabbed teacher, Muriel had neither addressed nor +signed it. She had craftily whispered her instructions to the girl ahead +of her, who had obligingly repeated them to the next and so on down the +row. Unfortunately, Miss Merton’s eyes had spied it on its journey. She +instantly left her desk to pounce upon it at the moment it was delivered +into Marjorie’s keeping. + +“You may give me that note, Miss Dean,” she thundered, extending a thin, +rigid hand. + +“Pardon me, Miss Merton, but this note is for _me_.” Her fingers closing +about it, Marjorie lifted resolute, brown eyes to the disagreeable face +above her. + +“Give it to me instantly. You are an impertinent young woman.” Miss +Merton glared down as though quite ready to take Marjorie by the +shoulders and shake her. + +Back in her own seat, Muriel Harding was divided between admiration for +Marjorie and fear that she would yield to Miss Merton’s demand. Despite +lack of signature, the latter would have little trouble in identifying +the writer were she given a chance to read the note. Muriel saw trouble +looming darkly on her horizon. + +“I am sorry you think me impertinent. I do not mean to be.” The soft +voice rang with quiet decision. “But I cannot give you this note.” +Marjorie calmly put the note in her blouse, and, folding her hands, +awaited the storm. + +“You will stay here to-night until you give it to me,” decreed Miss +Merton grimly. Beaten for the time, she stalked back to her desk, quite +aware that she could hardly have imposed a more crushing penalty. True, +her effort to obtain the note had been fruitless, but one thing was +patent: Marjorie Dean would not be present at the junior basket ball +try-out. + + + + +CHAPTER XI—AT THE ELEVENTH HOUR + + +Left to herself for a brief respite, Marjorie drew out the note and read +it. An expression of amused consternation flashed into her eyes as she +took in its spirit. Knowing the writing to be Muriel’s she was now glad +she had stood her ground. Note writing was not forbidden in Sanford High +and never had been. Miss Merton alone, of all the teachers, strenuously +opposed it. To be sure, it was not regarded by them with special favor. +Nevertheless, in the class-rooms no one was ever taken to task for it +unless it seriously interfered with the recitation. Marjorie did not +know Miss Archer’s views on the subject, but she believed her principal +too great-minded to cavil at such trifles. + +The instant she had finished reading the note, she reduced it to +unreadable bits, leaving them in plain sight on her desk. Not by so much +as a backward glance did she betray the writer. Knowing Miss Merton to +be on the alert, she took no chances. Should the latter send her to Miss +Archer, she would very quickly express herself on the subject. As a +junior she believed that the time for treating her as a member of the +primary grade had long since passed. + +It was not until she had effectually blocked all possibility of the note +falling into Miss Merton’s possession that she remembered the try-out. +Her heart sank as she recalled what a lengthy, lonely stay in the study +hall meant. The try-out would go on without her. She would lose all +chance of obtaining a place on the junior team. Her changeful face paled +a trifle as she sadly accepted this dire disaster to her hopes. If only +Muriel had not written that note. + +The first closing bell sent a tremor of despair to her heavy heart. She +wondered how long Miss Merton would detain her. She had said, “You will +stay here to-night until you give it to me.” Even in the midst of +misfortune the edict took a humorous turn. She had a vision of herself +and Miss Merton keeping a lonely, all-night vigil in the study hall. + +At the second bell the long lines of girls began a decorous filing down +the aisles to the great doors. Marjorie watched them go, vainly +pondering on why, thus far, her junior year had been so filled with +mishaps. A bad beginning sometimes made a good ending was her only +comforting reflection. She hoped that in her case it would prove true. + +“Why are you staying, Miss Harding?” rasped forth Miss Merton when the +big room had at last emptied itself. + +Marjorie faced about with a start. She had not reckoned on this. She +made a desperate sign to Muriel to go. Muriel merely shook an obstinate +head. Then she announced bravely, “I wrote that note to Miss Dean.” + +“Then you may remain in your seat,” snapped the frowning teacher. “Miss +Dean, do you intend to give me that note?” + +“I have destroyed it,” came the calm reply. + +“You are determined to defy me, I see. Very well, you may tell me the +contents of it. I saw you read it after I had returned to my desk.” + +“I have nothing to say,” Marjorie replied with terse obstinacy. + +“Miss Harding, _you_ may tell me what you wrote.” Miss Merton suddenly +swung her attack from Marjorie to Muriel. + +“I will not.” Muriel spoke with hot decision. “Neither Miss Dean nor I +are grammar school children. I see no reason why we should be treated as +such. I think it very ridiculous, and I will not submit to it. You may +send me to Miss Archer if you like. I am quite ready to say to her what +I have just said to you.” + +As Muriel’s challenge of defiance cut the storm-laden atmosphere, a most +unexpected thing happened. Almost as if the mere mention of her name had +served to bring her to the scene, Miss Archer walked into the study +hall. She had come in time to catch Muriel’s last sentence, and her +quick faculties had leaped to conclusion. + +“What is it that you are quite ready to say to me, Miss Harding?” was +her grave interrogation. + +Miss Merton’s sallow cheeks took on a lively tinge of red. She was not +specially anxious to bring Miss Archer into the discussion. Had the +recipient of the note been other than Marjorie Dean, she would have +allowed the incident to pass with a caustic rebuke. But her dislike for +the winsome girl was deep-rooted. She could never resist the slightest +opportunity to vent it publicly. + +“I wrote a note to Miss Dean, Miss Archer,” burst forth Muriel. “Miss +Merton asked Miss Dean for it and she wouldn’t give it to her. So Miss +Merton said she must stay here until she did. Miss Dean tore the note +up. I stayed because I wrote it. Miss Merton says we must tell her what +was in that note. I won’t do it. Neither will Marjorie. I just said that +I did not think we ought to be treated like grammar-school children. I +said, too, that I would be willing to say so to you, and I have.” + +Miss Archer’s quizzical gaze traveled from Muriel’s flushed face to +Marjorie’s composed features. Here was, indeed, a problem in that +unknown quantity, girl nature. Miss Archer was too thoroughly acquainted +with the ways of girls not to comprehend what lay beneath this out and +out defiance of Miss Merton’s commands. She understood, if Miss Merton +did not, or would not, the rather overdrawn sense of school-girl honor +which prompted the rebellion. She knew that except in extreme cases, +there was little to be obtained by using force. It was all too likely to +defeat its own object. + +“The attitude of these two young women toward me is insufferable.” Miss +Merton now took up a harsh stand. She did not intend the principal +should allow the matter to be passed over lightly. “Miss Dean, in +particular, has been most disrespectful. In fact, ever since she became +a pupil of this school she has derived an especial delight from annoying +me.” + +Miss Archer’s face wore an inscrutable expression as she listened. Years +of association with Miss Merton had taught her to read between the +lines. Yet she knew she must now proceed with the utmost diplomacy. As a +teacher Miss Merton was entitled to the respect of her pupils. She had +an inner conviction, however, that the irate woman was piling injustice +upon Marjorie’s shoulders. She herself was beginning to understand the +girl’s motives could never be classed as unworthy. Young in years, she +possessed already a breadth of mind which Miss Merton could never hope +to attain. + +“You are entitled to the utmost respect on the part of your pupils, Miss +Merton,” she levelly acknowledged. “I am sorry to hear bad reports of +any of my pupils. I am sure that Miss Harding and Miss Dean will rectify +the matter with an apology. As for the note, perhaps it might be wiser +to allow the matter to drop.” + +“Girls,” she now addressed the belligerents, “it seems to me that, as +long as note-writing has proved a source of trouble to you, you might +better give up the practice. Let me ask you a question. Was there any +grave and important reason for writing that note?” + +Muriel Harding hung her head. “No, Miss Archer,” came her low answer. + +Marjorie’s pale face took on a faint glow of pink. “It was not +necessary,” she admitted. + +“Very well. You have both agreed that it was unnecessary. My advice to +you is to discontinue the practice. I must insist that both of you make +apology to Miss Merton for the annoyance you have caused.” + +“Miss Merton, I regret that you should have been annoyed by me.” +Marjorie made an immediate and dignified apology, which was perfectly +sincere on her part. For more reasons than one she deplored the +annoyance. + +Muriel, however, hesitated a second or two before committing herself. +Suddenly it dawned upon her that Miss Archer’s demand for apology had a +deeper significance. She thereupon made haste to repeat Marjorie’s exact +words. + +Miss Merton received both apologetic speeches in black silence. She was +inwardly furious with the principal, not only for her unexpected +intrusion, but for the lax manner in which she had administered +discipline. At least, Miss Merton considered it distinctly lax. Still, +she knew that it would be in bad taste to try to overrule the +principal’s decision. “You are dismissed,” she said stiffly. “See to it +that you conduct yourselves properly hereafter.” She could not resist +this one touch of authority. + +The ex-culprits lost no time in leaving the study hall behind them. Not +a word passed between them until the door of the junior locker room had +closed upon them. Their eyes meeting, they burst into laughter, +discreetly subdued, but most expressive of their feelings. Each mind +held the same thought. What would Miss Merton have said had she read the +note? + + + + +CHAPTER XII—A DOUBTFUL VICTORY + + +“Marjorie Dean, you are true blue!” exclaimed Muriel. “Whatever +possessed me to write that awful note? If Miss Merton had read it—well, +you can guess what would have happened. I shook in my shoes when I heard +her ask you for it.” + +“I’m glad I didn’t give it to her.” An angry sparkle leaped into +Marjorie’s soft eyes. “She only made a fuss about it because it was I +who had it. I think Miss Archer understood that. I love her for it. She +treats us always as though we were young women; not as naughty children. +But we mustn’t stand here. It’s four o’clock now. I am afraid we won’t +have a chance to play. Only about fifteen or twenty juniors are going to +try for the team. It may be made already.” Marjorie picked up the bag +which contained her basket ball suit and tennis shoes. + +“Let us hustle along then,” urged Muriel. Seizing her friend by one +hand, her luggage in the other, the two raced for the gymnasium, hoping +against hope. + +“It’s all over.” Muriel cried out in disappointment as they entered the +great room. + +“I am afraid so,” faltered Marjorie, as she noted the group of +bloomer-clad girls standing idle at one end of the gymnasium. Here and +there about the floor were others in uniform. Altogether she counted +eighteen. Ellen Seymour and two other seniors were seated on the +platform, their chairs drawn together, their attention apparently fixed +on a pad on Ellen’s knee. Spectators had been firmly but politely denied +admission. Ellen had pronounced them a detriment to the try-out and +elected that they should remain away. + +“Hello, Marjorie Dean,” joyfully called out Harriet Delaney. As she +hailed Marjorie she ran toward the two girls. “We thought you were lost +to us forever. Where were you, Muriel? You surely didn’t have to stay.” + +“Did you make the team?” was Muriel’s excited query. + +“Not yet.” Harriet’s eyes twinkled. “The try-out hasn’t begun yet.” + +“Hasn’t begun!” echoed two voices. + +“No. Ellen was awfully cross about the way Miss Merton acted, so she +said we’d wait for Marjorie. Then, when Muriel didn’t appear, she said, +that if neither of you materialized, she would have the try-out put off +until to-morrow. Miss Davis is so busy with that new system of +gymnastics she’s going to adopt this year that she’s left basket ball to +Ellen. I don’t see how she could help herself, though. Last year the +juniors and seniors ran their own teams.” + +“Ellen’s a dear,” exulted Muriel. “We are lucky to have her for manager. +Marjorie and I will be her grateful slaves for the rest of the year. I +wrote that note; so, naturally, I had to stay and face the music.” + +“You did!” It was Harriet who now registered surprise. “What was in it?” + +Muriel giggled. She could now afford to laugh. “Oh, a lot of sweet +things about Miss Merton. You can guess just how sweet they were.” + +“Goodness!” breathed Harriet. “No wonder Marjorie wouldn’t give it up. +She—why, she’s gone!” + +Marjorie had stopped only to greet Harriet. While Muriel was explaining +matters, she slipped away to the platform where Ellen Seymour sat. “It +was splendid in you, Ellen!” she burst forth, as she reached the +senior’s side. “Thank you, ever so much.” + +“Hurrah! Here’s Marjorie.” Ellen sprang up, her pleasant face breaking +into a smile. “I’m so glad you came at last, and so sorry for what +happened. You must tell me how you came out. But not now. We shall have +to hustle to make up for lost time. I suppose you know Miss Elbert and +Miss Horner. No?” Ellen promptly performed introductions. + +“Pleased to meet you,” nodded both young women. Neither looked specially +delighted. Miss Elbert, a small, plump girl with near-sighted, gray +eyes, bowed in reserved fashion. Miss Horner, a rather pretty brunette, +acknowledged the introduction with languid grace. Marjorie had long +known both by sight. On two different occasions she had been introduced +to Miss Horner. Afterward, on meeting her in the street, the latter had +made no sign of recognition. + +“I suppose you are satisfied now, Ellen,” drawled Miss Horner sweetly. +“You are lucky, Miss Dean, to have Ellen for a champion. She insisted +that we must wait for you.” + +“I am very grateful to her,” Marjorie made courteous reply. Had there +lurked a touch of sarcasm in the other’s polite comment? + +“Miss Merton is altogether too fussy,” remarked Miss Elbert. Her blunt +tone quite belied her reserved nod. “She tried that with me last year. +It didn’t work, though.” Her air of constraint vanished in a bright +glance, which indicated friendliness. + +“You must remember that she has a great deal to try her,” reminded Miss +Horner softly. + +Again Marjorie thought she sensed hostility. She laid it to the +supposition that Miss Horner was, perhaps, a trifle peevish at being +delayed. Yet she could not resist the quiet comment, “Miss Merton is +also very trying.” + +“Of course she is,” agreed Ellen warmly. “You know it as well as we do, +Charlotte Horner. _You_ have no cause to love her. Just remember how +cranky she was to you during your freshman year.” + +“That was a long time ago,” shrugged the senior. “I understand her much +better now than then.” The placid answer held a suspicion of +condescending approval of Miss Merton. + +“I’m glad someone does,” flung back Ellen with careless good humor. +“Hurry along, Marjorie, and get into your basket ball suit. I shouldn’t +have kept you talking.” Drawing her aside, she whispered: “I’d rather +see you play center on the team than any girl I know.” + +“It seems to me, Ellen,” drawled Charlotte Horner, as her indolent gaze +followed Marjorie across the floor to the dressing room, “that you are +babying that Miss Dean entirely too much. Someone told me the other day +that she has a bad attack of swelled head. I must say, I think her +self-opinionated. She answered me very pertly.” + +“If you mean her remark about Miss Merton, she only spoke the truth,” +defended Ellen hotly, completely astonished by this unexpected attack on +Marjorie. “She is not in the least self-opinionated nor vain. It’s +remarkable that she isn’t. She is very pretty and awfully popular.” + +“Glad you told me,” murmured the other, lazily unbelieving. “I know +several girls with whom she is not particularly popular.” + +To this Ellen made no response. With vexation at her own stupidity, she +now remembered too late that Charlotte Horner had always been rather +friendly with Mignon La Salle. Remembering only Charlotte’s undeniable +prowess as a basket ball player, she had asked her to act with herself +and Leila Elbert as one of the three judges at the try-out. This +explained why Charlotte had not been in favor of postponing the try-out +in case Marjorie were detained indefinitely. Ellen found herself hoping +that personal prejudice would not influence Charlotte to decry +Marjorie’s work on the floor. + +“I think Miss Dean is very nice.” It was Leila Elbert who made this +announcement. Her reserved manner had arisen merely from shyness. She +was a quiet, diffident girl, who, beyond an enthusiasm for basket ball, +had mixed little with the social side of high school. She was an expert +player who had been on the same team with Ellen during her freshman, +sophomore and junior years. Accordingly, she was eminently fitted to +judge the merits of the respective contestants. + +“That’s sweet in you.” Ellen flashed her a grateful look. It would be +two against one in Marjorie’s favor. + +Within ten minutes after seeking the dressing room Marjorie issued from +it ready for the fray, wearing her sophomore basket ball uniform. +Running up to Ellen she announced: “I am ready. So is Muriel.” In a +lower tone she added: “It was dear in you to wish me well.” Then she +trotted over and joined the contestants, who had gradually collected in +one spot. + +“All right.” Ellen left the platform and approached the fruitful +material for junior honors. “Girls,” she began, with an elaborate bow, +“behold your stern manager.” + +She was interrupted by giggling applause. Cheerful Ellen Seymour was +beloved throughout Sanford High School. + +“Much obliged,” she nodded gaily. “As I was saying when interrupted by +your heart-felt appreciation, _I_ am your manager. This year there will +be no senior team. The seniors have soared to heights beyond mere basket +ball. I had to soar with them, though I wasn’t in a soaring mood. Since +I can’t play the good old game alone, I’ve decided to bury my +disappointment in managership. Of course, you know that you can’t all +play. So if you’re not chosen, don’t be disappointed. It’s going to be +an absolutely fair try-out. If you’re chosen, it is because you are a +better player than the girl who isn’t. Now please line up until I count +you over.” + +It was a nondescript line that whipped itself promptly into position. +There were the five gray-clad girls who had made up Mignon La Salle’s +famous team. There were also the five black-garbed players who had +comprised Marjorie’s squad. Besides these were ten new applicants in +blue gymnasium suits who had not been fortunate enough to make either of +the two teams that had striven against each other in the sophomore year. +These girls had decided to try again, hoping that better luck would be +theirs. + +Marjorie thrilled with excitement as she cast a quick glance up and down +the line. Every face was set in determined fashion. It was going to be +much harder than ever before to make the team. + +Ellen Seymour walked up and down the row of girls with the air of a +general. She was shrewdly calculating the best plan of action. It would +hardly be fair to try out the black and scarlet girls against the grays, +leaving the other ten of lesser experience to play against each other. +Among the new girls there was, undoubtedly, some excellent material +which contact with the regular players was sure to bring out. She, +therefore, chose five blues to play against two grays and three black +and scarlet girls. Mignon and Daisy Griggs represented the grays, +Marjorie, Susan and Harriet Delaney the black and scarlet. + +Clearing the floor of the others, Ellen signaled the two teams to their +places and soon had the ball in play. It seemed very strange to Marjorie +to find herself once more on the same team with Mignon La Salle. She was +too busy attending to her own affairs, however, to give it more than a +passing thought. Centering her whole mind on her work she played with +her usual snap and brilliancy. + +After twenty minutes' energetic work, the warning whistle sounded +retreat. Then the other ten girls remaining were ordered to the floor to +show what they could do. When, after the same allowance of time, they +had been called off, the three judges went into consultation with the +result that ten names were struck from the list Ellen held. These names +Ellen read out, expressing a regret for the failure of their owners to +make good that was in a measure quite consoling. They left the floor to +their more fortunate sisters apparently with the best possible grace, +considering the disappointment that was theirs. + +There were still left Susan, Muriel, Marjorie, Mignon, Daisy Griggs and +Anne Easton of the seasoned teams. The other were four of the blue-clad +girls who had done surprisingly well. These ten were again divided into +opposing fives and went at it with a will. + +T-r-ill! Ellen’s whistle at last called an end to the spirited fray. The +girls pattered off the playing floor. Grouped together they breathlessly +awaited the verdict. + +This time it was longer in coming. Up on the judge’s stand, Ellen +Seymour found herself participating in the wrangle with Charlotte +Horner, which she had anticipated. But Marjorie was not alone subject of +it. It was Mignon’s basket ball future, too, that now tottered. Four +names had been struck off the list of ten. It lay between Mignon and +Marjorie Dean as to whom the fifth should be. + +“Mignon is a better player than this Dean girl,” sharply argued +Charlotte Horner. “But poor Mignon simply wasn’t up to her usual form +to-day.” + +“But it’s to-day that counts, else why have a try-out?” protested Ellen. +“Marjorie has completely outplayed her in this last test. I consider +Marjorie the better player at any time. She is reliable. Mignon isn’t. I +insist that Marjorie shall have the position. I think she’s the best +player of the whole team.” + +“And _I_ insist that Mignon must have it.” In her anger Charlotte forgot +her usual languid drawl. + +“It rests with Leila.” Ellen shrugged her shoulders. “What is your +opinion, Leila?” + +“Miss Dean is the better player,” declared Leila stolidly. “Anyone can +see that.” + +“Two against one. The ayes have it.” Ellen drew a firm pencil through +Mignon’s name. + +And thus Marjorie Dean won a victory over Mignon La Salle, which was +destined to bring her a great deal of unhappiness. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII—UNSEEN; UNKNOWN; UNGUESSED + + +Outside the school building Jerry Macy and Irma Linton were holding a +patient vigil. Not permitted to witness the try-out they had declared +their intention of waiting across the street for their friends. +Confidently expecting that their wait would be long, they had set off +for Sargent’s directly after school, there to while away at least a part +of the time. It was twenty minutes after four when they returned to the +school and determinedly perched themselves upon the top step of the long +flight where they proposed to remain stationed until the try-out should +be over. As ardent fans, they had a lively curiosity to know as soon as +possible the results of the contest. They were also deeply concerned as +to what had transpired between Marjorie and Miss Merton. + +“Good gracious!” grumbled Jerry, as she frowningly consulted her wrist +watch. “When do you suppose it will be over? It’s half-past five now. I +hope——” + +“Hark!” Irma raised a warning hand. “I hear voices. Here they come at +last.” + +As she spoke the heavy door behind her swung open. One after another the +contestants began issuing forth to unite into little groups as they +passed down the steps to the street. Jerry and Irma were now on their +feet eagerly watching for their friends. Jerry’s shrewd power of +observation had already been put to good use. Thus far she glimpsed +defeat in the faces of those who passed. Among them was Mignon La Salle. +Her arm linked in that of Charlotte Horner, the French girl was carrying +on a low-toned monologue, the very nature of which could be read in the +stormy play of her lowering features. + +Jerry gave Irma a significant nudge as Mignon switched past them without +sign of recognition. Irma nodded slightly to show that she understood +its import. She, too, had guessed that Mignon had not made the team. + +“At last!” Jerry sighed relief, as Marjorie stepped across the +threshold, followed by Susan, Muriel and Daisy Griggs. “What’s the good +word?” She hailed. + +“We are the real people,” boasted Muriel Harding, a throbbing note of +triumph in her light tones. “Marjorie, Susan, Daisy and I made the team. +The fifth girl is Rita Talbot. She was the only one of the blues chosen. +Poor Harriet didn’t make it. Neither did Esther. Harriet’s been chosen +as a sub, though. She has that queer little green-eyed Warner girl. +She’s such a quiet mouse, I never even dreamed she could play basket +ball. She can, though.” Muriel rattled off all this, hardly stopping to +take breath. + +“So dear Miss Merton changed her mind,” burst forth Jerry irrelevantly. +“How long did she keep you, Marjorie? What did she say?” They had now +progressed as far as the sidewalk and had halted there to talk. + +Marjorie entered into brief details, giving Muriel the lion’s share of +credit for her blunt explanation to Miss Archer. “If Muriel hadn’t +spoken so plainly, Miss Archer might not have seen things in the right +light,” she ended. + +“Don’t you believe it,” disagreed Jerry. “Miss Archer knows Miss Merton +like a book. It’s a real comfort to have a principal like her. Say, I’ll +bet Mignon is so mad she can’t see straight. You should have seen her +when she passed us. She was talking a blue streak to that Miss Horner. +She was one of the judges, wasn’t she?” + +“Yes.” Marjorie’s face clouded at mention of the languidly spoken +senior. It now occurred to her that she had not been at fault in +believing that Charlotte Horner disliked her. No doubt Mignon was the +motive for her dislike. Like Ellen, she, too, tardily recalled that the +two had been occasionally seen together last year. It might account also +for the emphatic wagging of heads that had gone on among the three +judges before the final result of the try-out had been announced. + +“I suppose you are going to play the sophomores.” Irma’s soft intonation +brought Marjorie out of her brown study. + +“Of course.” It was Daisy Griggs who answered. “They are to have their +try-out to-morrow afternoon. I don’t believe we will be ready to play +them before November. We have a lot of practice ahead of us. We’ll have +to have new suits, too. But we won’t know until we have a meeting what +colors to choose. We ought to ask the subs what they’d like. We can’t +very well go by the junior colors this year. They are deep crimson and +white, you know. We couldn’t possibly have white suits with a crimson J, +and crimson suits wouldn’t be pretty, either.” + +“_I_ think they _would_,” put in Muriel Harding stoutly. “We could have +our suits of a little darker crimson than the class color. They would be +stunning with a white J on the blouse and a wide, rolling collar of +white broadcloth. Besides, crimson is a victorious color. We’d just have +to win. It would be inspiring.” + +“It sounds good to me,” approved Susan. “They’d certainly be different +from any we’ve ever had. We could all put together and buy the cloth. +Then have them made by one person instead of each going to our own +dressmaker.” + +“I think that would be nice,” nodded Marjorie. “But we want to please +Daisy, too, so perhaps——” + +“Oh, I don’t mind. Just so they aren’t a glaring red,” hastily amended +Daisy. “I suppose the subs will want to have new suits, too. We ought to +call a meeting of the team some time this week. That reminds me, we +don’t know yet who is to be captain. You ought to be, Marjorie. I think +Ellen will ask you.” + +“No.” Marjorie shook a decided head. “To be given center is honor enough +for me. Girls, I’d love to have Muriel for captain. She’d be simply +splendid.” + +“Oh, no, not me,” protested Muriel in ungrammatical confusion. +Nevertheless, she flushed with pleasure at Marjorie’s generous proposal. + +“That would be fine,” asserted Susan Atwell heartily. She was not in the +least jealous because Marjorie had not proposed her for the honor. She +had long since learned that Marjorie Dean was incapable of showing +favoritism. She had selected Muriel strictly with the good of the team +in mind. + +“Let’s ask Ellen if we can’t have Muriel,” said Daisy Griggs earnestly. + +“You see three of us are of the same mind,” Marjorie pointed out with a +smile. “I know Rita will say so, too. But where are she and Harriet?” + +“Still in the gym, I guess, with Ellen. Harriet lives next door to +Ellen,” reminded Susan. “They’ll be along presently.” + +“I can’t wait for them,” Marjorie demurred. “It’s almost six. Captain +will wonder why I’m so late. Come on, Jerry and Irma,” she called. Jerry +and Irma had wandered a little away from the group and were deeply +engaged in earnest discussion. “How many of you are going our way?” + +“I’m going to my aunt’s for dinner,” said Muriel. “So I’ll say good-bye. +Daisy goes my way, too. See you to-morrow. Come along, Daisy.” + +Left to themselves, Susan, Marjorie, Irma and Jerry swung off toward +home, four abreast. + +“See here, Marjorie,” began Jerry. “You want to look out for Mignon. I +told you how mad she looked when she passed us. Irma saw, too. She’ll +try to do something to get you off the team and herself on. See if she +doesn’t.” + +“I’m not going to bother my head about her,” Marjorie made careless +reply. “She has never really hurt anyone she’s tried to hurt since I’ve +known her. With Ellen Seymour managing the teams, we are all sure of +fair play.” + +“Don’t be too sure,” muttered Jerry. She added in a louder tone, +“Ellen’s not much protection with Mignon on the job. If she can’t play, +she’ll try to fix it so somebody else can’t. Not you, perhaps. Anyway, +it won’t do any harm for you to keep your eyes open.” + +“Don’t croak, Jeremiah.” Marjorie laid a playful hand on Jerry’s lips. +“Didn’t I tell you long ago that I should not allow Mignon La Salle to +trouble me this year? I am going to keep at a safe distance from her.” + +“I hope you stick to that,” was Jerry’s ungracious retort. Under her +breath she added, “but I doubt it.” + +Jerry Macy’s well-meant warning was destined, however, to come back most +forcibly to Marjorie no later than the following morning. As she ran +down the steps of her home and on down the walk on her way to school, +she encountered the postman at the gate. He handed her two letters, +which she received with a gurgle of girlish delight. On the top envelope +she had glimpsed Mary’s familiar script. The gurgle changed to a +dismayed gasp as she examined the other. Only too quickly had she +recognized the handwriting. Shoving Mary’s letter into the pocket of her +pretty tan coat, she hastily opened the other envelope. Her evil genius +had again come to life. A wave of hot resentment swept her as she +unfolded the one sheet of heavy white paper and read: + + “Miss Dean: + + “No doubt you think yourself very clever to have made the junior + team. You could never have done so had partiality not been shown. + Others at the try-out were much more worthy of the choice. You + believe because you can dress like a doll and are popular with a few + rattle-brained girls that everyone likes you. But you are mistaken. + A few persons, at least, know how vain and silly and deceitful you + are. You pretend to hate snobbery, but you are a snob. Some day + _everyone_ will know you for what you really are. The time is not + far off. Beware. + + “The Observer.” + +Turning, Marjorie went slowly back to the house and climbed the stairs +to her room. Pausing before her desk, she opened it. From a pigeon-hole +she extracted another letter. Carefully she compared it with the one +that had come by post. Yes, they must have both emanated from the same +source. Stationery, writing and signature were unmistakable proofs. With +a sigh she shoved them both into the pigeon-hole. Who could her +mysterious enemy be? These letters were certainly of the variety she had +heard classed as “poison pen.” + +Thus far she had flouted the idea of Mignon La Salle as the writer of +them. Now she was forced to wonder if she had been wrong. Was it +possible that Mignon had lurked outside Miss Archer’s office on the +morning when she had solved the problem for Rowena Farnham? If this were +so, the letter Miss Archer had received might then be accredited to her, +as well as the two now in her desk. Barring Rowena Farnham, Marjorie +knew no one else who would be likely to engage in such a despicable +enterprise. If Mignon were guilty of this, Jerry Macy’s warning had not +been an idle one. It, therefore, behooved her, Marjorie Dean, to be on +her guard. Yet how could she guard herself against a shadow, an enemy +unseen; unknown; unguessed? + + + + +CHAPTER XIV—A SOLDIER IN EARNEST + + +Absorbed in a vain attempt to find a clue to the mysterious prophesier +of evil, Marjorie forgot Mary Raymond’s letter until she happened to +thrust a hand into her coat pocket on the way home from school at noon. +Mary’s long, cheery epistle partially atoned for the hateful sentiments +expressed by the unknown. On her return home in the afternoon, a second +comforter was accorded her in a letter from Constance Stevens. The day +after Marjorie and Jerry had spent the evening at Gray Gables Mr. +Stevens had gone to New York. Constance had accompanied him. + +Since the great change had taken place in the girl’s life her school +days had been more or less broken. Still she managed to keep up in her +classes despite frequent short absences from school. It was tacitly +understood, not only by Miss Archer, but also by Constance’s other +teachers, that she intended to study for a grand opera dèbut as soon as +her high school days were over. The mere possession of so remarkable a +voice as was hers rather set her apart in some indefinite fashion from +her schoolmates. Where others would have been taken to strict account +for absence, she was allowed an unusual amount of consideration. +Undoubtedly, the fact that when actually in school she invariably +acquitted herself with credit in her various studies had much to do with +the leniency accorded her. From a very humble person, she was rapidly +becoming a personage from whom Sanford expected one day to hear great +things. + +Marjorie Dean felt Constance’s absences more keenly than anyone else. +She had been particularly lonesome for her friend during this latest +one, and the news that Constance would return to Sanford and to school +on the following week banished for the time the shadow of the morning’s +unpleasant incident. + +“Constance will be home on Sunday, Captain,” she caroled gleefully, as +she danced about the living room by way of expressing her jubilation. + +“I am glad to hear it. You really need the child to cheer you up. You’ve +been looking rather solemn lately, my dear. Aren’t you happy in your +school? Sit down here and give an account of yourself,” commanded Mrs. +Dean with a smile. + +“Oh, yes.” The answer was accompanied by a faint sigh, as Marjorie +curled up on the floor beside her mother. “So far, this has been rather +a queer year, though. Nothing very pleasant has happened except basket +ball. That’s always a joy. Our team is doing beautifully. We are to play +the sophomores on the Saturday before Thanksgiving. It’s going to be a +real tussle. Ellen Seymour says there are some great players among the +sophs. You’ll come to the game, Captain?” + +“I suppose I must. You consider me a loyal fan. That means I must live +up to my reputation. By the way, Lieutenant, did that girl who made you +so much trouble enter high school? You never told me.” + +“You mean Rowena Farnham? Yes; she was allowed to try another set of +examinations. Jerry Macy said she won the chance by only one vote. +Jerry’s father’s a member of the Board. I wouldn’t tell anyone else but +you, though, about that one vote. She is a sophomore now. I see her in +the study hall, but we never speak. The girls say she is quite popular +with the sophs. I suppose she’s trying hard to make up her lost ground.” +Marjorie’s inflection was slightly bored. She felt that she had small +cause for interest in Rowena. She had never told her mother of the +latter’s attack on herself and Jerry. She preferred not to think of it, +much less talk of it. To her it had seemed utterly senseless, as well as +cheap. + +“And how is Mignon La Salle doing?” questioned Mrs. Dean. “I haven’t +heard you mention her, either. I must say I am very glad that you and +she are not likely to be thrown together again. Poor little Mary made a +bad mistake last year. It is wonderful that things ever worked out as +well as they did.” Mrs. Dean’s face grew stern as she recalled the +tangle in which Mary’s obstinacy had involved her daughter. + +“Oh, Mignon has found a friend in Rowena Farnham. They go together all +the time. Jerry says they will soon fall out. I am sure they are welcome +to chum together, if they choose.” Marjorie shrugged her shoulders as +though desirous of dismissing both girls from her thoughts. + +“Jerry is quite likely to be a true prophet,” commented Mrs. Dean. “She +is a very wise girl, but decidedly slangy. I cannot understand why a +girl brought up in her surroundings should be so thoroughly addicted to +slang.” + +“She’s trying awfully hard not to use it.” Recalling Jerry’s recent +efforts to speak more elegant English, Marjorie laughed outright. “She’s +so funny, Captain. If any other girl I know used slang as she does, I +wouldn’t like it. But Jerry! Well, she’s different. Next to Connie and +Mary I love her best of all my friends. I don’t know what I’d do without +her.” + +“She is a very fine girl, in spite of her brusque ways,” praised Mrs. +Dean. “General is fond of her, too.” She added this little tribute lest +Marjorie might feel that she had been unduly critical. She understood +the fact that Marjorie’s friends were sacred to her and on that account +rarely found fault with them. Marjorie could be trusted to choose her +associates wisely. Those to whom her sympathies went out usually proved +themselves worthy of her regard. Motherly anxiety alone had prompted +Mrs. Dean to draw her daughter out with a view toward learning the cause +of Marjorie’s recent air of wistful preoccupation. Daily it had become +more noticeable. If a repetition of last year’s sorrows threatened her +only child, Mrs. Dean did not propose to be kept in the dark until it +became well-nigh impossible to adjust matters. + +Secretly Marjorie was aware of this anxiety on her mother’s part. She +felt that she ought to show her Captain the sinister letters she had +received, yet she was loath to do so. Her mother’s inquiry concerning +Mignon had caused her to reflect uneasily that now if ever was the +moment for unburdening her mind. “Captain,” she began, “you know that +something is bothering me, don’t you?” + +“Yes. I have been hoping you would tell me.” Mrs. Dean laid an +encouraging hand on the drooping, brown head against her knee. + +“Wait a minute.” Imbued with a desperate energy, Marjorie sprang to her +feet and ran from the room. She soon returned, the disturbing letters +clutched tightly in one hand. “I wish you to read these,” she said. +Tendering them to her mother, she drew up a chair opposite Mrs. Dean and +sat down. + +Silence hung over the cheerful room while Mrs. Dean acquainted herself +with the cause of Marjorie’s perturbation. Contempt filled her voice as +she finally said: “A most despicable bit of work, Lieutenant. The writer +had good reason to withhold her true name. So this explains the solemn +face you have been wearing of late. I wouldn’t take it very deeply to +heart, my dear. Whoever wrote these letters must possess a most cowardly +nature.” + +“That’s just what I think,” nodded Marjorie. “You see it really started +with the letter Miss Archer received. You know, the one about the +algebra problem. The only person I can really suspect of writing any of +them is Mignon. But she’s not this sort of coward. Besides, I don’t +believe she’d write just this kind of letter. What sort of person do you +think would, Captain?” + +Before answering, Mrs. Dean thoughtfully reread both letters. “It is +hard to say,” she mused. “It looks to me as though the writer of them +might have been prompted by jealousy. The second one in particular is +full of jealous spite. I suppose you don’t care to let Miss Archer see +them.” + +“No.” Marjorie shook a vehement head. “I’d rather worry through without +that. Perhaps there won’t be any more of them. I hope not. Anyway, I’m +glad I told you about them. If another does come, I can bring it to you +and not feel so bad over it as if I had to think things out alone. Even +if I knew this very minute who wrote them, I don’t know what I’d do +about it. It would depend upon who the girl was, whether or not I’d say +anything to her. It’s all very mysterious and aggravating, isn’t it?” +she added wistfully. + +“It’s far worse than that.” Mrs. Dean’s lips set in a displeased line. +“Sanford High School appears to harbor some very peculiar girls. I can’t +imagine any such thing happening to you at Franklin High. I don’t like +it at all. If the rest of your junior year is going to be like this, you +might better go away to a good preparatory school.” + +“Oh, Captain, don’t say that!” Marjorie cried out in distress. “I +couldn’t bear to leave you and General and Sanford High. I’d be terribly +unhappy away from home. Please say you didn’t really mean that.” Tears +lurked in her pleading tones. + +“Now, now, Lieutenant,” came the soothing reply, “don’t be so ready to +run out to meet calamity. I only suggested your going away as a means of +taking you out of these pits you seem always innocently to be tumbling +into. You know that General and I could hardly get along without our +girl. It is of your welfare I am thinking.” + +Marjorie slipped to her mother’s side and wound coaxing arms about her. +“I was afraid this would hurt you. That’s why I hated to tell you. Don’t +worry, Captain. Everything will come out all right. It always has, you +know. So long as I keep a clear conscience, nothing can really hurt me. +I hope I’m too good a soldier to be frightened, just because I’ve been +fired upon by an unseen enemy. If I ran away now I’d be a deserter, and +a deserter’s a disgrace to an army. So you see there’s only one thing to +do; stand by and stick fast to my colors. I’ve got to be a soldier in +earnest.” + + + + +CHAPTER XV—AN UNWILLING FOLLOWER + + +Marjorie’s confidential talk with her Captain brought to her a renewal +of faith in herself, which carried her along serenely through various +small difficulties which continually sprang up in her junior path. One +of them was Miss Merton, who seemed always on the watch for an +opportunity to belittle the girl she so detested. Still another was the +hostile interest Mignon La Salle had again begun to take in her. Hardly +a day passed without an angry recital on Jerry’s part of something she +had heard against Marjorie, which had originally come from Mignon or +Rowena Farnham. Mignon’s ally, Charlotte Horner, was an equal source for +provocation. Although she had no special right to do so, she often +dropped in on junior basket ball practice merely to find food for +adverse criticism of Marjorie. She watched the latter with a hawk-like +eye, only to go forth and make capital of any small imperfection in +Marjorie’s playing, which she saw or fancied she saw. + +The fact that Rowena Farnham was a member of the sophomore team did not +add to Marjorie’s happiness. She had no wish to come into such close +contact with her, which the approaching games between the two teams +would necessitate. From Jerry, the indefatigable news-gatherer, she had +learned that Rowena was a skilful, but rather rough player. Knowing her +to be utterly without scruple, Marjorie had small reason to believe she +could be trusted to play an absolutely fair game against her opponents. +Rowena was already becoming an insolent power in the sophomore class. +Her extreme audacity, coupled with her good looks and fine clothes, +brought her a certain amount of prestige in Sanford High School. She +possessed to a marked degree that impudent quality of daring, which is +so peculiarly fascinating to school girls. + +Although she was not sincerely liked she was admired and feared. She had +a fund of clever sayings at her command, which gave her a reputation for +brilliancy. The frequent reproof of her teachers rolled off her like +water from a duck’s back. She made public sport of whomever she pleased, +whenever it pleased her to do so, with a conscienceless air of good +humor that rendered her a dangerous foe. She never hesitated to forge +her way to whatever she wanted, in a hail-fellow-well-met manner which +changed like a flash to insolence with the slightest opposition offered. +She was a bully of the first water, but with the glamor of her newness +still upon her, the worst side of her nature was yet to be revealed to +many. + +Marjorie Dean and Jerry Macy, at least, entertained no illusions +concerning her. Neither did Mignon La Salle. For once in her life, +Mignon was beginning to find herself completely overshadowed by a nature +far more hatefully mischievous than her own. True she was Rowena’s most +intimate friend. Yet there were times when she inwardly regretted having +rushed blindly into such a friendship. Striving ever to rule, now she +was invariably overruled. Instead of being leader, she became follower. +Rowena criticized, satirized and domineered over her, all in the name of +friendship. Had she been anyone else, Mignon would not have borne long +with her bullying. She would have speedily put an end to their +association. Rowena, however, was one not thus easily to be dropped. In +Mignon she glimpsed powers for mischief-making only secondary to her +own. She preferred, therefore, to cling to her and was clever enough +never to allow Mignon’s flashes of resentment against her +high-handedness to mature into open rebellion. Those who knew the French +girl for exactly what she was agreed that Mignon had at last met her +match. They also agreed that a taste of her own medicine would no doubt +do her a great deal of good. + +The approach of Thanksgiving also brought with it a stir of excitement +for the coming basket ball game, the first to be played in a series of +four, which were scheduled to take place at intervals in the school +year. The sophomore team had already played the freshman and given them +a complete white-washing. Now they were clamoring to meet the juniors +and repeat their victory. The junior team had attended the +freshman-sophomore game in a body, thereby realizing to the full the +strength of their opponents. Reluctantly, they were forced to admit the +brilliancy of Rowena Farnham as a player. She knew the game and she went +into it with a dash and vigor that marked her as a powerful adversary. +Naturally, it won her an admiration which she determined should grow and +deepen with each fresh achievement. + +Her doughty deeds on the floor of contest merely imbued the junior team +with stronger resolution to win the coming game. They practised with +stubborn energy, sedulously striving to overcome whatever they knew to +be their weak points. Though manager of all the teams, Ellen Seymour’s +heart was secretly with them. This they felt rather than knew. +Outwardly, Ellen was impartial. She made them no show of favoritism, but +they divined that she would rejoice to see them win. There was no doubt +of the smoothness of their team work. Having played basket ball on the +freshman and sophomore teams, Marjorie Dean herself knew that the squad +of which she was now a member excelled any other of past experience. +Fairly confident that it could hold its own, she looked impatiently +forward to the hour of action. + +To set one’s heart too steadfastly on a particular thing, seems +sometimes to court disappointment. On the Thursday before the game an +unexpected state of affairs came to pass. It started with a notice on +the bulletin board requesting the presence of the junior team in the +gymnasium at four o’clock that afternoon. It was signed “Ellen Seymour, +Manager.” Naturally, the juniors thought little of it. They were +accustomed to such notices. Ellen, no doubt, had some special +communication to make that had to do with them. But when five minutes +after four saw them gathered in the gymnasium to meet their manager, her +sober face warned them that the unusual was afoot. + +“Girls, I have something to ask of you which you may not wish to do. I +am not going to urge you to do it. You are free to choose your own +course. As it especially concerns you, yours is the right to decide. Two +girls of the sophomore team are ill. Martha Tyrell has come down with +tonsilitis, and Nellie Simmons is threatened with pneumonia. Both are in +bed. They can’t possibly play on Saturday. The sophs are awfully cut up +about it. They wouldn’t mind using one sub, but two, they say, is one +too many. They have asked me to ask you if you are willing to postpone +the game until these girls are well again.” + +“I don’t see why we should,” objected Captain Muriel Harding. “I don’t +believe they’d do the same for us. Of what use are subs, if not to +replace absent players?” + +“That’s what I think,” put in Daisy Griggs. “It’s too provoking. +Everyone is looking forward to the game. If we don’t play we’ll +disappoint a whole lot of people. It’s very nervy in the sophs to ask us +to do such a thing. Besides, we are crazy to wear our new suits.” + +Ellen smiled quizzically. “Remember, you are to do as you please about +it,” was all she said, betraying neither pleasure or displeasure at the +ready protests. + +“I suppose the sophomores will think us awfully mean if we don’t do as +they ask,” ventured Rita Talbot. + +“Oh, let them think,” declared Susan Atwell impatiently. “It’s the first +time I ever heard of such a thing. They must be terribly afraid we’ll +beat them.” + +“That’s just the point.” At this juncture Marjorie broke into the +discussion. “If we insist on playing and win, they might say we won +because we had them at a disadvantage. That wouldn’t be much of a +victory, would it?” + +“That’s so.” Muriel reluctantly admitted the force of Marjorie’s +argument. “I know at least one of them who would say just that.” + +“Mustn’t be personal,” gently chided Ellen. Nevertheless, there was a +twinkle in her blue eyes. The sophomore who had come to her had +insinuated what Marjorie had voiced. “I’ll give you ten minutes to talk +it over. I promised to let the sophomores know to-night. The girl who +came to me is waiting in the senior locker room for your answer.” + +“I’m ready to decide now,” asserted Marjorie. “For my part I’m willing +to postpone the game.” + +“We might as well,” conceded Captain Muriel ruefully. Marjorie’s point +had gone home. “If we win we want it to be a sweeping victory.” + +One by one the three other interested parties agreed that it seemed best +to yield gracefully to the plea. + +“Now that you’ve all spoken I’m going to tell you my opinion,” announced +Ellen. “I am glad that you are willing to do this. It becomes you as +juniors. No one can say that you have been anything but strictly +generous. You deserve a crown of victory for being so nice about this.” + +Ellen’s conclusion brought a smile to five faces. Her remark might be +construed as a declaration of favor toward them. + +“I believe you’d love to see us win the whole four games, Ellen +Seymour,” was Muriel’s frank comment. + +“As your august manager, my lips are sealed,” Ellen retorted laughingly. +“Now I must leave you and put an anxious sophomore out of her misery. +While you are waiting for the sick to get well you can put in some more +practice.” With this injunction she left them. + +Once out of the gymnasium, her smile vanished. The anxious sophomore was +Rowena Farnham. Ellen cherished small liking for this arrogant, +self-centered young person whose request had been more in the nature of +a command. Personally, she had not favored putting off the game. Had +illness befallen a member or members of any team on which she had +formerly played, no such favor would have been asked. Nothing short of +incapacitation of the whole squad would have brought forth a stay in +activities. Yet as manager she was obliged to be strictly impersonal. +True, she might have exercised her authority and herself made the +decision. But she had deemed the other way wisest. + +On entering the senior locker room she was still more annoyed to find +Mignon La Salle with Rowena. If Ellen disliked the latter, she had less +love for the tricky French girl. “Birds of a feather,” she mentally +styled them as she coldly bowed to Mignon. Her chilly recognition was +not returned. Mignon had not forgiven her for the try-out. + +“Well, what’s the verdict?” inquired Rowena, satirically pleasant. Her +manner toward dignified Ellen verged on insolence. + +“The junior team are willing to postpone the game,” informed Ellen +briefly. She intended the interview to be a short one. + +“They know on which side their bread is buttered,” laughed the other +girl. “I suppose they weren’t specially delighted. Did they make much +fuss before they gave in?” + +“As I have delivered my message, I will say 'good afternoon,'” Ellen +returned stiffly. + +“Don’t be in too much of a hurry,” drawled Rowena. “When I ask a +question, I expect an answer.” + +“Good afternoon.” Ellen wheeled and walked calmly from the locker room. +Rowena’s expectations were a matter of indifference to the disgusted +manager. She, at least, was not to be bullied. + +Mignon La Salle laughed unpleasantly. “You were foolish to waste your +breath on her.” She wagged her black head in the direction of the door, +which had just closed behind Ellen. “You didn’t impress her _that_ +much.” She snapped her fingers significantly. + +Smarting under the dignified snubbing Ellen had administered, Rowena +hailed Mignon as an escape valve. “You keep your remarks to yourself,” +she blustered. “How dare you stand there laughing and snapping your +fingers? No wonder people say you’re two-faced and tricky. You’re so +deceitful you don’t know your own mind. One minute you come whining to +me about this Seymour snip, the next you take sides with her.” + +“I wasn’t standing up for her and you know it,” muttered Mignon. As +always, Rowena’s brutally expressed opinion of herself had a vastly +chastening effect on the designing French girl. Rowena never minced +matters. She delivered her remarks straight from the shoulder, +indifferent to whether they pleased or displeased. Mignon’s disregard +for sincerity and honor suited her admirably. She was equally devoid of +these virtues. Mignon made an excellent confederate. Still, she had to +be kept in her place. Her very love of subtle intrigue made plain +speaking abhorrent to her. On occasions when Rowena mercilessly held +before her the mirror of truth, she invariably retired in confusion. At +the same time she entertained a wholesome respect for the one who thus +dared to do it. This explained to a great extent the strong influence +which Rowena exerted over her. She was not happy in this new friendship. +More than once she had meditated ending it. Fear of the other’s furious +retaliation was a signal preventative. Rowena, as a friend, was greatly +to be preferred to Rowena as an enemy. + +As she sulkily viewed the Titian-haired tyrant, who knew her too well +for her own peace of mind, she wondered why she had not flung back taunt +for taunt. Perhaps Rowena made a shrewd guess regarding her thoughts. +Adopting a milder tone she said brusquely: “Oh, quit pouting and come +along. None of these stupid girls are worth quarreling over. I suppose +that Marjorie Dean, the big baby, told Miss Seymour something hateful +about me. That’s the reason she acted so frosty.” + +At the mere mention of Marjorie’s name Mignon’s elfish face grew dark. +She and Rowena had at least one bond in common, they both despised +Marjorie Dean. Mignon reflected that no scheme she had devised for +humbling the former had ever borne lasting fruit. Rowena might succeed +where she had failed. Rowena had sworn reprisal for the affair of the +algebra problem. Undoubtedly, she would seize upon the first opportunity +for retaliation. With such a glorious prospect ahead of her, Mignon +craftily decided to stick to Rowena and share in her triumph. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI—A TINY CLUE + + +The end of the week following Thanksgiving brought the two temporarily +disabled sophomore basket ball players back to school. The day after +their return a notice appeared on the bulletin board stating that the +junior-sophomore game would be played on the next Saturday afternoon. +From all sides it received profound approbation and the recent +postponement of the contest served to give it greater importance. The +sophomore team had been highly delighted with the respite, and +gratefully accorded the credit to Rowena Farnham, who reveled in her +sudden advance in popularity. + +The juniors had little to say to the world at large. Among themselves +they said a great deal. One and all they agreed that the victory of the +coming game must be theirs. They yearned to show the public that in +postponing the game they had merely postponed the glory of winning it. +Though they knew the strength of the opposing team, they confidently +believed themselves to be even stronger. How it happened, none of them +were quite able to explain, but when the fateful hour of conflict +arrived the victor’s crown was wrested from them. A score of 18-16 in +favor of the sophomores sent them off the field of defeat, crestfallen +but remarkably good-natured, considering the circumstances. + +Behind the closed door of their dressing-room, with the jubilant shouts +of the sophomores still ringing in their ears, they proceeded to take +stock of themselves and their triumphant opponents. + +“There is no use in talking, that Rowena Farnham is a wonderful player,” +was Muriel Harding’s rueful admission. “She could almost have won the +game playing alone against us.” + +“She’s a very rough player,” cried Daisy Griggs. “She tears about the +floor like a wild Indian. She gave me two or three awful bumps.” + +“Still, you can’t say she did anything that one could make a fuss +about,” said Rita Talbot slowly. “I guess she’s too clever for that.” + +“That’s just it,” chimed in Susan Atwell crossly. “She’s as sharp as a +needle. She goes just far enough to get what she wants without getting +into trouble by it. Anyway, they didn’t win much of a victory. If that +last throw of Marjorie’s hadn’t missed the basket we’d have tied the +score. It’s a pity the game ended right there. Three or four minutes +more were all we needed.” + +“I was sure I’d make it,” declared Marjorie rather mournfully, “but a +little before, in that big rush, I was shoved forward by someone and +nearly fell. I made a slide but didn’t quite touch the floor. All my +weight was on my right arm and I felt it afterward when I threw the +ball.” + +“Who shoved you forward? That’s what I’d like to know,” came +suspiciously from Susan. “If——” + +“Oh, it wasn’t anyone’s fault,” Marjorie hastened to assure her. “It was +just one of those provoking things that have to happen.” + +“Listen to those shrieks of joy,” grumbled Muriel, as a fresh clamor +began out in the gymnasium. “Oh, why didn’t we beat them?” + +“Never mind,” consoled Marjorie. “There’d be just as much noise if we +had won. You can’t blame them. Next time it will be our turn. We’ve +still three more chances. Now that we’ve played the sophs once, we’ll +know better what to do when we play them again. We really ought to go +out there and congratulate them. Then they would know that we weren’t +jealous of them.” + +“I’d just as soon congratulate a big, striped tiger as that Rowena +Farnham. She makes me think of one. She has that cruel, tigerish way +about her. Ugh! I can’t endure that girl.” Muriel Harding made a gesture +of abhorrence. + +“Come in,” called Marjorie as four loud knocks beat upon the door. “It’s +Jerry, Connie and Irma,” she explained, as the door opened to admit the +trio. + +“Better luck next time,” cheerfully saluted Jerry Macy. “You girls +played a bang-up, I mean, a splendid game. I was sure you’d tie that +score. You had a slight accident, didn’t you, Marjorie?” + +“Yes. Did you notice it?” Marjorie glanced curiously at Jerry’s +imperturbable face. + +“I always notice everything,” retorted Jerry. “I hope——” + +Marjorie flashed her a warning look. “It wasn’t anything that could be +avoided,” she answered with a finality that Jerry understood, if no one +else did. “I move that we go down to Sargent’s and celebrate our +defeat,” she quickly added. “Have a seat, girls. It won’t take us long +to get into our everyday clothes.” + +“Such a shame,” bewailed Daisy Griggs. “After we’ve gone to the trouble +of having these stunning suits made, then we have to be robbed of a +chance to parade around the gym as winners. Anyway, they’re a whole lot +prettier than the sophs' suits. I didn’t like that dark green and blue +they had as well as ours.” + +“They stuck to the sophomore colors, though,” reminded Rita. “It’s a +wonder that Rowena Farnham didn’t appear in some wonderful creation that +had nothing to do with class colors. It would be just like her.” + +Despite their regret over losing the game, the defeated team, +accompanied by Jerry, Constance, Irma and Harriet Delaney, who +afterwards dropped in upon them, set off for the all-consoling Sargent’s +in fairly good humor, there to spend not only a talkative session, but +their pocket money as well. + +It was not until Jerry, Constance and Marjorie had reluctantly torn +themselves from their friends to stroll homeward through the crisp +December air that Jerry unburdened herself with gusto. + +“Marjorie Dean,” she began impetuously, “do you or don’t you know why +you nearly fell down in that rush?” + +“I know, of course,” nodded Marjorie. “Someone swept me forward and I +almost lost my balance. It’s happened to me before. What is it that you +are trying to tell me, Jerry?” + +“That someone was Row-ena,” stated Jerry briefly. “Isn’t that so, +Connie?” + +“It looked that way,” Connie admitted. “I thought she played very +roughly all through the game.” + +“If it were she, I don’t believe she did it purposely,” responded +Marjorie. “Even if she did, I’m not going to worry about it. I rather +expected she might. Mignon used to do that sort of thing. You remember +what a time we had about it last year. But her team and ours were +concerned in it. That’s why I took it up. As it was only I to whom it +happened this time, I shall say nothing. I don’t wish to start trouble +over basket ball this year. If I spoke of it to Ellen she would take it +up. You know what Rowena Farnham would say. She’d declare it was simply +a case of spite on my part. That I was using it only as an excuse for +not being able to throw that last ball to basket. Then she’d go around +and tell others that we were whining because we were beaten in a fair +fight. I might better say nothing at all. The only thing for us to do is +to keep our own counsel and win the next game.” + +“I guess your head is level,” was Jerry’s gloomy admission. She was as +much distressed over their defeat as were the juniors themselves. + +“Marjorie’s head is _always_ level,” smiled Constance Stevens. “I am +almost certain that you girls will win the next game. Luck just happened +to be with the sophomores to-day. I don’t think they work together as +well as you. Miss Farnham is a much better player than the others. +Still, I imagine that she might not always do so well as she did in this +game. If she saw that things were going against her, she would be quite +likely to get furiously angry and lose her head.” Quiet Constance had +been making a close study of Rowena during the game. Raised in the hard +school of experience, she had considerable insight into character. She +seldom criticized openly, but when she did, her opinions were received +with respect. + +“Your head’s on the same level plane with Marjorie’s, Connie,” agreed +Jerry. “I think, too, that Rowena Farnham would be apt to make blunders +if she got good and mad. Speaking of getting mad reminds me that Lucy +Warner is pouting about those suits of ours. She told Harriet to-day +that she thought they were simply hideous. Harriet said that she +wouldn’t go in with you girls when you ordered them. She considered them +a waste of money. Said if she had one, she’d never get a chance to wear +it. Pleasant young person, isn’t she?” + +“Perhaps she couldn’t afford to have one,” remarked Constance +thoughtfully. “You know her mother is a widow and supports the two of +them by doing plain sewing. I imagine they must be quite poor. They live +in a tiny house on Radcliffe Street, and Lucy never goes to even the +high school parties, or to Sargent’s, or any place that costs money. She +is a queer little thing. I’ve tried ever so many times to be nice to +her, but she always snubs me. Maybe she thinks I’m trying to patronize +her. I can’t help feeling sorry for her. You see I know so well what it +means to be very poor—and proud,” ended Constance, flushing. + +“She’s a born grouch,” asserted Jerry. “She’s been one ever since I’ve +known her. Even in grammar school she was like that. She’s always had a +fixed idea that because she’s poor everyone looks down on her. It’s too +bad. She’s very bright in her studies, and she’d be quite pretty if she +didn’t go around all the time looking ready to bite.” + +“Isn’t it funny?” mused Marjorie. “I’ve never noticed her particularly +or thought much about her until she made the team as a sub. Since then +I’ve tried several times to talk to her. Each time she has acted as +though she didn’t like to have me speak to her. I thought maybe she +might be a friend of Mignon’s. But I suppose it’s just because she feels +so ashamed of being poor. As if that mattered. We ought to try to make +her think differently. She must be terribly unhappy.” + +“I doubt it,” contradicted Jerry. “Some people enjoy being miserable. +Probably she’s one of that sort. As I said before, 'it’s too bad.' +Still, one doesn’t care to get down on one’s knees to somebody, just +because that somebody hates herself. She can’t expect people are going +to like her if she keeps them a mile away from her.” + +“You are both right,” commented Constance. “She ought to be made to +understand that being poor isn’t a crime. But you can’t force that into +her head. The only way to do is to wait until a chance comes to prove it +to her. We must watch for the psychological moment.” Her droll utterance +of the last words set her listeners to giggling. Miss Merton was prone +to dwell upon that same marvelous psychological moment. + +That evening, as Marjorie diligently studied her lessons, the queer, +green-eyed little junior again invaded her thoughts. A vision rose of +her thin, white face with its pointed chin, sensitive, close-lipped +mouth, and wide eyes of bluish-green that frequently changed to a +decided green. What a curious, secretive face she had. Marjorie wondered +how she had happened to pass by so lightly such a baffling personality. +She charitably determined to make up for it by learning to know the true +Lucy Warner. She upbraided herself severely for having been so selfish. +Absorbed in her own friends, she had neglected to think of how much +there was to be done to make the outsiders happy. + +Entering the study hall on Monday morning she cast a swift glance toward +Lucy’s desk. She was rather surprised to note that the blue-green eyes +had come to rest on her at the same instant. Marjorie smiled and nodded +pleasantly. The other girl only continued to stare fixedly at her, but +made no answering sign. Forewarned, Marjorie was not specially concerned +over this plain snub. She merely smiled to herself and decided that the +psychological moment had evidently not yet arrived. + +Slipping into her seat she was about to slide her books into place on +the shelf under her desk, when one hand came into contact with something +that made her color rise. She drew a sharp breath as she brought it to +light. So the Observer was at work again! With a sudden, swift movement +of her arm she shoved her find back to cover. Casting a startled look +about the study hall, she wondered if whoever had placed it there were +now watching her. Strangely enough, the only pair of eyes she caught +fastened upon her belonged to Mignon La Salle. In them was a light of +brooding scorn, which plainly expressed her opinion of Marjorie. + +“Could Mignon be the mysterious Observer?” was again the question that +assailed Marjorie’s mind. She longed to read the letter, but her pride +whispered, “not now.” She would save it until school was over for the +day. She and Captain would read it together in the living room. + +It was a long, weary day for the impatient little girl. At noon she +carried the dread missive home with her, gravely intrusting it to her +Captain’s keeping. “It’s another stab from the Observer,” she explained +soberly. “I haven’t opened it. We will read it together when I come home +this afternoon. I don’t care to read it now.” + +She returned home that afternoon to find her mother entertaining +callers. Despite her feverish impatience to have the thing over, she was +her usual charming self to her mother’s friends. Nevertheless, she +sighed with relief when she saw them depart. Seating herself on the +davenport she leaned wearily against its cushioned back. The suspense of +not knowing had told severely upon her. + +“Now, Lieutenant, I think we are ready,” said Mrs. Dean cheerily. Taking +the letter from a drawer of the library table, she sat down beside +Marjorie and tore open the envelope. Her head against her Captain’s +shoulder, Marjorie’s eyes followed the Observer’s latest triumph in +letter writing: + + “Miss Dean: + + “Last Saturday showed very plainly that you could not play basket + ball. I knew this long ago. Several others must now know it. It + would serve you right if you were asked to resign from the team. If + you had been thinking less about yourself and more about the game, + you might have tied the score and not disgraced the juniors. You are + a menace to the team and ought to be removed from it. As I am not + alone in this opinion, I imagine and sincerely hope that you will + soon receive your dismissal. If you had any honor in you, you would + resign without waiting to be asked. But remember that a coward is + soon worsted in the fight. Prepare to meet the inevitable. + + “The Observer.” + +Without speaking, Marjorie turned again to the first page of the letter, +re-reading thoughtfully the entire communication. “This letter tells me +something which the others didn’t,” she said. + +“It tells me that it is high time to stop such nonsense.” Mrs. Dean’s +tones conveyed righteous indignation. “The whole thing is simply +outrageous.” + +“It can’t be stopped until we know who is writing these letters,” +reminded Marjorie. “But I think I have a tiny clue. That sentence about +disgracing the juniors would make it seem that a junior wrote them. No +one would mention it who wasn’t a junior. I’ve tried not to believe it, +but now I am almost certain that Mignon wrote them. She would like more +than anyone else to see me lose my place on the team. Yes, Mignon and +the Observer must be very closely related.” + + + + +CHAPTER XVII—IN TIME OF NEED + + +Three days later Marjorie’s theory seemed destined to prove itself +correct. Ellen Seymour came to her, wrath in her eye. “See here, +Marjorie,” she burst forth impulsively, “if Miss Davis sends for you to +meet her in the gym after school, let me know. I’m going there with you. +Yesterday while you girls were at practice she stood there watching you. +Do you remember?” + +“Yes. I noticed her. She stared at me so hard she made me nervous and I +played badly. She has always had that effect on me. Last year when she +managed the team she was fond of watching me. She used to criticize my +playing, too, and call out one thing to me just when I knew I ought to +do another. She was awfully fussy. I hope she isn’t going to begin it +again this year. I thought she had left everything to you.” + +“So did I,” retorted Ellen grimly. “It seems she hasn’t. Someone, you +can guess who, went to her after the game and said something about your +playing. She came to me and said: 'I understand there is a great deal of +dissatisfaction on the part of the juniors over Miss Dean’s being on the +junior team.' You can imagine what I said. When I saw her in the gym +after school I knew she had an object. But leave things to me. I know a +way to stop her objections very quickly. If she sends for you, go +straight to the junior locker room from the study hall and wait there +for me. If she doesn’t send for you, then you’ll know everything is all +right. Remember now, don’t set foot out of that locker room until I come +for you.” With this parting injunction Ellen hurried off, leaving +Marjorie a victim to many emotions. + +So the Observer’s, or rather Mignon’s, prophesy bordered on fulfillment. +Mignon and the few juniors who still adhered to the La Salle standard +had made complaint against her to Miss Davis in the name of the junior +class. As a friend of Miss Merton, Miss Davis had always favored the +French girl. Last year it had been whispered about that her motive in +creating a second sophomore team had arisen from her wish to help +Mignon’s fortunes along. No doubt she had been very glad to listen to +this latest appeal on Mignon’s part. + +But Marjorie was only partially correct in her conclusions. Though it +was, indeed, true that Mignon had besieged Miss Davis with a plea that +Marjorie be removed from the team, no other member of the junior class +had accompanied her. She was flanked by the far more powerful allies, +Charlotte Horner and Rowena Farnham. The plan of attack had originated +in Rowena’s fertile brain as the result of a bitter outburst against +Marjorie on Mignon’s part. It was directly after the game that she had +stormed out her grievances to Rowena and Charlotte. Personally, Rowena +cared little about Mignon’s woes. Her mischief-making faculties were +aroused merely on Marjorie’s account. Had it been Susan, or Muriel +against whom Mignon raved she would have laughed and dubbed her friend, +“a big baby.” But Marjorie—there was a chance to even her score. + +“You just let me manage this,” Rowena had declared boastfully. “This +Miss Davis is easy. She’s a snob. So is Miss Merton. If they weren’t +they’d have put you in your place long ago. They can see through you. +It’s money that counts with both of them. I’ve made it a point right +along to be nice to Miss Davis. In case that frosty Miss Seymour tried +to make trouble for me, I knew I needed a substantial backing. Now I’ll +ask her to my house to dinner to-morrow night. If she can’t come, so +much the better for me. If she can, so much the better for you. Of +course you’ll be there, too. Then we’ll see what we can do. You ought to +be very grateful to me. I expect she’ll bore me to death. I’m only doing +it for your sake.” + +Rowena was too crafty not to hang the heavy mantle of obligation on +Mignon’s shoulders. Thus indebted to her, Mignon would one day be +reminded of the debt. As a last perfect touch to her scheme she had +shrewdly included Charlotte Horner in the invitation. Providentially for +Mignon, Miss Davis had no previous engagement. So it fell about that +Rowena became hostess to three guests. At home a young despot, who +bullied her timid little mother and coaxed her indulgent father into +doing her will, she merely announced her intention to entertain at +dinner and let that end it. The final results of that highly successful +dinner party were yet to be announced. + +Unwittingly, however, Miss Davis had blundered. In order to strengthen +her case she had purposely complained of Marjorie to Ellen Seymour. +Knowing nothing of Ellen’s devotion to the pretty junior, she had not +dreamed that Ellen would set the wheels in motion to defeat her. She was +in reality more to be pitied than blamed. Of a nature which accepted +hearsay evidence, declining to go below the surface, it is not to be +wondered at that Rowena’s clever persuasion, backed by Mignon’s and +Charlotte’s able support, caused her to spring to the French girl’s aid. +She was one of those aggravating persons who refuse to see whatever they +do not wish to see. She was undoubtedly proficient in the business of +physical culture. She was extremely inefficient in the art of reading +girls. Sufficient unto herself, she, therefore, felt no compunction in +sending forth the word that should summon Marjorie to the gymnasium, +there to be deprived of that which she had rightfully earned. + +Like many other days that had come to poor Marjorie since the beginning +of her junior year, suspense became the ruling power. Two things she +knew definitely. Ellen Seymour was for her. Miss Davis against her. The +rest she could only guess at, losing herself in a maze of troubled +conjecture. Judge her surprise when on reaching the locker room, she +found not only Ellen awaiting her, but her teammates as well. They had +made a most precipitate flight from the study hall in order to be in the +locker room when she arrived. + +“Why, Ellen! Why, girls!” she stammered. A deeper pink rushed to her +cheeks; a mist gathered in her eyes as she realized the meaning of their +presence. They had come in a body to help her. + +“We’re here because we’re here,” trilled Captain Muriel Harding. “In a +few minutes we’ll be in the gym. Then someone else will get a surprise. +Are we ready to march? I rather think we are. Lead the procession, +Ellen.” + +“Come on, Marjorie, you and I will walk together. Fall in, girls. The +invincible sextette will now take the trail.” + +Amid much laughter on their part and openly curious glances from +constantly arriving juniors who wondered what was on foot, the six girls +had swung off down the corridor before the curious ones found +opportunity to relieve their curiosity. + +“She’s not here yet,” commented Susan, as they entered the place of +tryst. “Isn’t that too bad. I hoped she’d be on hand to see the mighty +host advancing.” + +“Here she comes,” warned Rita Talbot. “Now, for it.” + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII—DOING BATTLE FOR MARJORIE + + +Two spots of angry color appeared high up on Miss Davis’s lean face as +she viewed the waiting six. It came to her that she was in for a lively +scene. Setting her mouth firmly, she approached them. Addressing herself +to Marjorie, she opened with: “I sent for _you_, Miss Dean; not your +friends.” + +“I asked these girls to come here.” Ellen Seymour turned an unflinching +gaze upon the nettled instructor. + +“Then you may invite them into one of the dressing rooms for a time. My +business with Miss Dean is strictly personal.” + +“I am quite willing that my friends should hear whatever you have to say +to me.” Marjorie’s brown head lifted itself a trifle higher. + +“But _I_ am not willing that they should listen,” snapped Miss Davis. + +“Then I must refuse to listen, also,” flashed the quick, but even +response. + +“This is sheer impudence!” exclaimed Miss Davis. “I sent for you and I +insist that you must stay until I give you permission to go. As for +these girls——” + +“These girls will remain here until Marjorie goes,” put in Ellen, +admirably self-controlled. “Everyone of them knows already why you wish +to see Marjorie Dean. She knows, too. We have come to defend her. I, for +one, say that she _shall not_ be dismissed from the team. Her teammates +say the same. It is unfair.” + +“Have I said that she was to be dismissed from the team?” demanded Miss +Davis, too much irritated to assert her position as teacher. Ellen’s +blunt accusation had robbed her of her usual show of dignity. + +“Can you say that such was not your intention?” cross-questioned Ellen +mercilessly. + +Miss Davis could not. She looked the picture of angry guilt. “I shall +not answer such an impertinent question,” she fumed. “You are all +dismissed.” Privately, she determined to send for Marjorie the next day +during school hours. + +“Very well.” Ellen bowed her acceptance of the dismissal. “Shall we +consider the matter settled?” + +“Certainly not.” The words leaped sharply to the woman’s lips. Realizing +she had blundered, she hastily amended. “There is no matter under +consideration between you and me.” + +“Whatever concerns Marjorie’s basket ball interests, concerns me. If you +send for her again she will not come to you unless we come with her. Am +I not right?” She appealed for information to the subject of the +discussion. + +“You are,” was the steady reply. + +“This is simply outrageous.” Miss Davis completely lost composure. “Do +you realize all of you that you are absolutely defying your teacher? +Miss Dean deserves to be disciplined. After such a display of +discourtesy I refuse to allow her the privilege of playing on the junior +basket ball team.” Miss Davis continued to express herself, unmindful of +the fact that Muriel Harding had slipped away from the group and out of +the nearest door. Her temper aroused she held forth at length, ending +with: “This disgraceful exhibition of favoritism on your part, Miss +Seymour, shows very plainly that you are not fitted to manage basket +ball in this school. I shall replace you as manager to-morrow. You, Miss +Dean, are dismissed from the junior team. I shall report every one of +you to Miss Archer as soon as I leave the gymnasium.” + +“I believe she is on her way here now,” remarked Ellen with satirical +impersonality. “Muriel went to find her and ask her to come.” + +“What!” Miss Davis betrayed small pleasure at this news. Quickly +recovering herself she ordered: “You may go at once.” + +“Here she is.” Ellen nodded toward a doorway through which the principal +had just entered, Muriel only a step behind her. The senior manager’s +eyes twinkled satisfaction. + +“What seems to be the trouble here, Miss Davis?” The principal came +pithily to the point. + +“I have been insulted by these disrespectful girls.” Miss Davis waved a +hand toward the defending sextette. + +“That is news I do not relish hearing about my girls. I wish every +teacher in this school to be treated with respect. Kindly tell me what +reason they gave for doing so.” + +“I sent for Miss Dean on a personal matter. She insisted on bringing +these girls with her. I requested them to leave me alone with Miss Dean. +They refused to do so. I dismissed them all, intending to put off my +interview with Miss Dean until to-morrow. Miss Seymour took it upon +herself to tell me that Miss Dean would not come to me to-morrow unless +accompanied by herself and these girls. Miss Dean declared the same +thing. Such conduct is unendurable.” + +“These young women must have strong reason for such peculiar conduct, or +else they have overstepped all bounds,” decided Miss Archer impassively. +“What have you to say for yourself, Ellen? As a member of the senior +class I shall expect a concise explanation.” + +“We have a very strong reason for our misbehavior.” Ellen put a +questioning inflection on the last word. “Briefly explained, it is this. +Miss Davis has been influenced by certain persons to dismiss Marjorie +Dean from the junior basket ball team. Because the juniors lost the game +the other day by two points, the blame for it has been unjustly placed +upon Marjorie. At practice yesterday she did not play as well as usual. +These are, apparently, the very shaky causes for her dismissal. I shall +not attempt to tell you the true reasons. They are unworthy of mention. +As her manager I refused to countenance such unfairness. So did her +teammates. They will agree with me when I say that Marjorie is one of +the best players we have ever had at Sanford High. We are all in +position to say so. We know her work. So we came with her to defend her. +I admit that we took a rather stiff stand with Miss Davis. There was no +other way.” + +“What are your reasons for dismissing Miss Dean from the team?” Still +impassive of feature, the principal now addressed Miss Davis. + +“I have received complaints regarding her work,” came the defiant +answer. + +“According to Ellen these complaints did not proceed from either herself +or her teammates. If not from them, whom could it interest to make +complaint?” continued the inexorable questioner. + +“The members of the junior class are naturally interested in the team +representing them,” reminded Miss Davis tartly. + +“How many members of the junior class objected to Miss Dean as a +player?” relentlessly pursued Miss Archer. + +Miss Davis grew confused. “I—they—I decline to talk this matter over +with you in the presence of these insolent girls,” she hotly rallied. + +“A word, girls, and you may go. I am greatly displeased over this +affair. Since basket ball seems to be such a trouble-breeder, it might +better be abolished in this school. I may decide to take that step. +Desperate diseases require desperate remedies. You will hear more of +this later. That will be all at present.” + +With the feeling that the gymnasium roof was about to descend upon them, +the six girls quitted the battlefield. + +“Don’t you ever believe Miss Archer will stop basket ball,” emphasized +Muriel Harding when they were well down the corridor. “She knows every +single thing about it. I told her in the office. I told her, too, that I +knew Rowena Farnham and Charlotte Horner were mixed up in it. They’ve +had their heads together ever since the game.” + +“I would have resigned in a minute, but I just couldn’t after the way +you girls fought for me,” Marjorie voiced her distress. “If Miss Archer +stops basket ball it will be my fault. I’m sorry I ever made the team.” + +“You couldn’t help yourself.” Ellen Seymour was rapidly regaining her +cheerfulness. “Don’t think for a minute that Miss Davis will be able to +smooth things over. Miss Archer is too clever not to recognize +unfairness when she meets it face to face. And don’t worry about her +stopping basket ball. Take my word for it. She won’t.” + + + + +CHAPTER XIX—WHAT JERRY MACY “DUG UP” + + +As Ellen Seymour had predicted, basket ball did not receive its quietus. +But no one ever knew what passed between Miss Archer and Miss Davis. The +principal also held a long session with Ellen, who emerged from her +office with a pleased smile. To Marjorie and her faithful support Ellen +said confidentially: “It’s all settled. No one will ever try to shove +Marjorie off the team while Miss Archer is here. But basket ball is +doomed, if anything else like that ever comes up. Miss Archer says so.” +Strangely enough the six girls were not required to apologize to Miss +Davis. Possibly Miss Archer was not anxious to reopen the subject by +thus courting fresh rebellion. After all, basket ball was not down on +the high school curriculum. She was quite willing her girls should be at +liberty to manage it as they chose, provided they managed it wisely and +without friction. Privately, she was disgusted with Miss Davis’s part in +the recent disagreement. She strongly advised the former to give up all +claim to the management of the teams. But this advice Miss Davis refused +to take. She still insisted on keeping up a modified show of authority, +but resolved within herself to be more careful. She had learned +considerable about girls. + +The three plotters accepted their defeat with bad grace. Afraid that the +tale would come to light, Mignon and Charlotte privately shoved the +blame on Rowena’s shoulders. Nothing leaked out, however, and they were +too wise to censure Rowena to her face. Mignon soon discovered that the +obliging sophomore’s efforts in her behalf had cost her dear. Rowena +tyrannized over her more than ever. After the second game between the +junior and sophomore teams, which occurred two weeks after Marjorie’s +narrow escape from dismissal from the team, Mignon came into the belief +that her lot was, indeed, hard. The sophomores had been ingloriously +beaten, the score standing 22-12 in favor of the juniors. In consequence +Rowena was furious, forcing Mignon to listen to her long tirades against +the juniors, and rating her unmercifully when she failed to register +proper sympathy. + +Owing to the nearness of the Christmas holidays and the brief stretch +that lay between them and the mid-year examinations, the other two games +were put off until February and March, respectively. No one except +Rowena was sorry. She longed for a speedy opportunity to wipe the defeat +off her slate. She had little of the love of holiday giving in her +heart, and was heard loudly to declare that Christmas was a nuisance. + +Marjorie and her little coterie of intimates regarded it very +differently. They found the days before Yule-tide altogether too short +in which to carry out their Christmas plans. With the nearness of the +blessed anniversary of the world’s King, Marjorie grew daily happier. +Since the straightening of the basket ball tangle, for her, things in +school had progressed with surprising smoothness. Then, too, the hateful +Observer had evidently forgotten her. Since the letter advising her to +“prepare to meet the inevitable,” the Observer had apparently laid down +her pen. Marjorie soberly confided to her captain that she hoped +Christmas might make the Observer see things differently. + +Obeying the familiar mandate, which peered at her from newspaper, store +or street car, “Do Your Christmas Shopping Early,” she lovingly stored +away the numerous be-ribboned bundles designed for intimate friends at +least a week before Christmas. That last week she left open in order to +go about the business of making a merry Christmas for the needy. As on +the previous year Jerry Macy and Constance were her right-hand men. +Susan, Irma, Muriel and Harriet also caught the fever of giving and the +six girls worked zealously, inspired by the highest motives, to bring +happiness to the poverty-stricken. + +Christmas morning brought Marjorie an unusual windfall of gifts. It +seemed as though everyone she liked had remembered her. Looking back on +the previous Christmas, she remembered rather sadly the Flag of Truce +and all that it had signified. This year Mary and she were again one at +heart. She dropped a few tears of sheer happiness over Mary’s long +Christmas letter and the beautiful embroidered Mexican scarf that had +come with it. She had sent Mary a wonderful silver desk set engraved +with M. to M., which she hoped wistfully that Mary would like as much as +she cherished her exquisite scarf. + +The Christmas vacation was, as usual, a perpetual round of gaiety. Jerry +and Hal gave their usual dance. Constance gave a New Year’s hop. Harriet +and Muriel entertained their friends at luncheons, while Marjorie +herself sent out invitations for an old-fashioned sleigh-ride party, +with an informal supper and dance at her home on the return. These +social events, with some few others of equal pleasure, sent Father Time +spinning along giddily. + +“Aren’t you sorry it’s all over?” sighed Constance, as she and Marjorie +lingered at the Macys' gate at the close of their first day at school +after the holidays. + +“Sorry’s no name for it,” declared Jerry. “We certainly had one +beautiful time, I mean a beautiful time. Honestly, I liked the getting +things ready for other folks best of all, though. I like to keep busy. I +wish we had something to do or somebody to help all the time. I’m going +to poke around and see what I can stir up. I try to do the sisterly, +helpful act toward Hal; picking up the stuff he strews all over the +house and locating lost junk, I mean articles, but he’s about as +appreciative as a Feejee Islander. You know how grateful they are.” + +“I saw one in a circus once,” laughed Constance reminiscently. “I wasn’t +impressed with his sense of gratitude. Someone threw him a peanut and he +flung it back and hit an old gentleman in the eye.” + +A general giggle arose at the erring Feejee’s strange conception of +gratitude. + +“That will be nice to tell Hal when he shows the same delicate sort of +thankfulness,” grinned Jerry. “I’m not going to waste my precious +talents on him all winter. I’m going to dig up something better. If you +girls hear of anything, run all the way to our house, any hour of the +day or night, and tell your friend Jerry Geraldine Jeremiah. All three +are one, as Rudyard Kipling says in something or other he wrote.” + +“I love Kipling’s books,” said Constance. “One of the first things I did +when I wasn’t poor any longer was to buy a whole set. That first year at +Sanford High I tried to get them in the school library. But there were +only two or three of them.” + +“That library is terribly run down,” asserted Jerry. “They haven’t half +the books there they ought to have. I was talking to my father about it +the other night. He promised to put it before the Board. I hope he does. +Then maybe we’ll get some more books. I don’t care so much for myself. I +can get all the books I want. But there are a lot of girls that can’t, +who need special ones for reading courses.” + +Jerry’s resolve to “poke around and stir up something” did not meet with +any special success. The more needy of the Christmas poor were already +being looked after by Mrs. Dean, Mrs. Macy and other charitably disposed +persons who devoted themselves to the cause of benevolence the year +around. Generous-hearted Jerry continued to help in the good work, but +her active nature was still on the alert for some special object. + +“I’ve dug it up,” she announced in triumph, several evenings later. The +three girls were conducting a prudent review at Jerry’s home, +preparatory to the rapidly approaching mid-year test. + +“What did you say, Jerry?” Marjorie tore her eyes from her French +grammar, over which she had been poring. “I was so busy trying to fix +the conjugation of these miserable, irregular verbs in my mind that I +didn’t hear you.” + +“I’ve dug up the great idea; the how-to-be-helpful stunt. It’s right in +our school, too, that our labors are needed.” + +“That’s interesting; ever so much more so than this.” Constance Stevens +closed the book she held with a snap. “I’m not a bit fond of German,” +she added. “I have to study it, though, on account of the Wagner operas. +This '_Höher als die Kirche_' is a pretty story, but it’s terribly hard +to translate. We’ll have several pages of it to do in examination. +Excuse me, Jerry, for getting off the subject. What is it that you’ve +dug up?” + +“It’s about the library. You know I told you that my father was going to +speak of it at the Board meeting. Well, he did, but it wasn’t any use. +There have been such a lot of appropriations made for other things that +the library will have to wait. That’s what the high and mighty Board +say. This is what _I_ say. Why not get busy among ourselves and dig up +some money for new books?” + +“You mean by subscription?” asked Marjorie. + +“No, siree. I mean by earning it ourselves,” proposed Jerry. +“Subscription would mean that a lot of girls would feel that they ought +to give something which they couldn’t afford to give. Then there’d be +those who couldn’t give a cent. That would be hard on them. What we +ought to do is to get up some kind of a show that the whole school would +be interested in.” + +“That’s a fine idea. It’s public-spirited,” approved Marjorie. “What +sort of entertainment do you think we might give? We couldn’t give it +until after examinations, though.” + +“I know the kind I’d like to give, but I can’t unless a certain person +promises to help me,” was Jerry’s mystifying reply. + +“Miss Archer?” guessed Constance. + +“Nope; Connie Stevens.” Jerry grinned widely at Constance’s patent +amazement. + +“I?” she questioned. “What have I to do with it?” + +“Everything. You could coax Laurie Armitage to help us and then, too, +you’d be leading lady. Do you know now what I’m driving at? I see you +don’t. Well, I’d like to give the 'Rebellious Princess' again, one night +in Sanford and the next in Riverview. That is only twenty-five miles +from here. A whole lot of the Sanfordites were disappointed last year +because they couldn’t get into the theatre to see the operetta. Another +performance would pack the theatre, just as full as last Spring. I know +the Riverview folks would turn out to it. There are two high schools in +Riverview, you know. Besides, we have the costumes and everything ready. +Two or three rehearsals would be all we’d need. If we tried to give an +entertainment or a play, it would take so long to practise for it. Have +I a head on my shoulders or have I not?” + +“You certainly have,” chorused her listeners. + +“I am willing to do all I can,” agreed Constance. “I’ll see Laurie about +it to-morrow.” + +“Oh, you needn’t wait until then. He’s downstairs now with Hal and Danny +Seabrooke. I told Hal to ask the boys over here this evening. We can’t +study all the time, you know. I suppose they are ready to tear up the +furniture because we are still up here. Danny Seabrooke is such a sweet, +patient, little boy. Put away your books and we’ll go down to the +library. Since this is a library proposition, let’s be consistent.” + +A hum of girl voices, accompanied by the patter of light feet on the +stairs, informed three impatient youths that they had not waited in +vain. + +“At last!” exclaimed the irrepressible Daniel, better known as the +Gad-fly, his round, freckled face almost disappearing behind his +Cheshire grin. “Long have we sought thee, and now that we have found +thee——” + +“Sought nothing,” contradicted Jerry. “I’ll bet you haven’t set foot +outside this library. There’s evidence of it.” She pointed to Hal and +Laurie, who had just hastily deposited foils in a corner and were now +more hastily engaged in drawing on their coats. “You’ve been holding a +fencing match. Laurie came out best, of course. He always does. He’s a +fencing master and a musician all in one.” + +“Jerry never gives me credit for anything,” laughed Hal. “That is, in +public. Later, when Laurie’s gone home, she’ll tell me how much better I +can fence than Laurie.” + +“Don’t you believe him. He’s trying to tease me, but I know him too well +to pay any attention to what he says.” Jerry’s fond grin bespoke her +affection for the brother she invariably grumbled about. At heart she +was devoted to him. In public she derived peculiar pleasure from +sparring with him. + +The trio of girls had advanced upon the library, there to hold a +business session. But the keynote of the next half hour was sociability. +It was Constance who first started the ball rolling. Ensconced beside +Laurie on the deep window seat, she told the young composer that Jerry +had a wonderful scheme to unfold. + +“Then let’s get together and listen to it,” he said warmly. Three +minutes afterward he had marshalled the others to the window seat. +“Everybody sit down but Jerry. She has the floor. Go ahead, Jerry. Tell +us what you’d like us to do.” He reseated himself by Constance. Laurie +never neglected an opportunity to be near to the girl of his boyish +heart. + +Posting herself before her hearers with an exaggerated air of +importance, Jerry made a derisive mouth at Danny Seabrooke, who was +leaning forward with an appearance of profound interest, which +threatened to land him sprawling on the floor. “I’m not used to +addressing such a large audience,” she chuckled. “Ahem! Wow!” Having +delivered herself of these enlightening remarks she straightened her +face and set forth her plan with her usual brusque energy. She ended +with: “You three boys have got to help. No backing out.” + +“Surely we’ll help,” promised Laurie at once. “It’s a good idea, Jerry. +I can have things going inside of a week. That is, if my leading lady +doesn’t develop a temperament. These opera singers are very +temperamental, you know.” His blue eyes rested smilingly on Constance. + +“I’m not an opera singer,” she retorted. “I’m only a would-be one. +Would-be’s are very humble persons. They know they must behave well. You +had better interview your tenor lead. Tenors are supposed to be terribly +irresponsible.” + +Amid an exchange of equally harmless badinage, the six willing workers +discussed the plan at length. So much excited discussion was provocative +of hunger. No one, except Hal, said so, yet when Jerry disappeared to +return trundling a tea wagon, filled with delectable provender, she was +hailed with acclamation. + +“What splendid times we always have together,” was Marjorie’s +enthusiastic opinion, when seated beside Hal in his own pet car she was +being conveyed home. Snatches of mirthful conversation issuing from the +tonneau where the rest of the sextette, Jerry included, were enjoying +themselves hugely, seemed direct corroboration of her words. Invited to +“come along,” Jerry had needed no second urging. + +“That’s your fault,” Hal made gallant response. “You are the magnet that +draws us all together. Before you and Jerry were friends I never +realized what a fine sister I had. If you hadn’t been so nice to +Constance, she and Laurie might never have come to know each other so +well. Then there’s Dan. He always used to run away from girls. He got +over his first fright at that little party you gave the first year you +came to Sanford. You’re a magician, Marjorie, and you’re making a pretty +nice history for yourself among your friends. I hope always to be among +the best of them.” Hal was very earnest in his boyish praise. + +“I am sure we’ll always be the best of friends, Hal,” she said +seriously, though her color heightened at the sincere tribute to +herself. “I can’t see that I’ve done anything specially wonderful, +though. It’s easy to be nice to those one likes who like one in return. +It’s being nice to those one doesn’t like that’s hard. It’s harder still +not to be liked.” + +“Then you aren’t apt to know that hardship,” retorted Hal. + +Marjorie smiled faintly. She had known that very hardship ever since she +had come to Sanford. She merely answered: “Everybody must meet a few, I +won’t say enemies, I’ll just say, people who don’t like one.” + +That night as she sat before her dressing table brushing her thick, +brown curls, she pondered thoughtfully over Hal Macy’s words. In saying +them she knew he had been sincere. It was sweet to hope that she _had_ +been and was still a power for good. Yet it made her feel very humble. +She could only resolve to try always to live up to that difficult +standard. + + + + +CHAPTER XX—CONSTANCE POINTS THE WAY + + +“THIS is a nice state of affairs,” scolded Jerry Macy. “What do you +suppose has happened, Marjorie?” Overtaking her friend in the corridor +on the way from recitation, Jerry’s loud question cut the air like a +verbal bomb-shell. Without waiting for a reply she continued in a +slightly lower key. “Harriet has tonsilitis. Isn’t that the worst you +ever heard? And only three days before the operetta, too. We can’t give +it until she gets well, unless somebody in the chorus can sing her rôle. +I’m going to telephone Laurie after my next class is over and tell him +about it. The chorus is our only hope. Some one of the girls may know +the part fairly well. They all ought to after so much rehearsing last +Spring. Most of them can’t do solo work, though. Do you think you could +sing it?” Jerry had drawn Marjorie to one side of the corridor as she +rapidly related her bad news. + +“Mercy, no!” Marjorie registered dismay at the mere suggestion. “I +wouldn’t dream of attempting it. Isn’t it too bad that Harriet hasn’t an +understudy? I’m ever so sorry she’s sick. How dreadfully disappointed +she must be.” + +“Not any more so than half of Sanford will be when they hear the +operetta’s been postponed. Every reserved seat ticket’s been sold. Who’d +have thought that Harriet would go and get tonsilitis?” mourned Jerry. +“There’s a regular epidemic of it in Sanford. You know Nellie Simmons +had it when the sophs wanted that basket ball game postponed. Quite a +number of Sanford High girls have had it, too. Be careful you don’t get +it.” + +Marjorie laughed. “Oh, _I_ won’t. Don’t worry. I’m never sick. We’ll +have to go, Jerry. There’s the last bell.” + +“You had better touch wood.” Jerry hurled this warning advice over one +plump shoulder as she moved off. + +It brought a smile to Marjorie’s lips. She was not in the least +superstitious. She grew grave with the thought that the operetta would +have to be postponed. At the first performance of the “Rebellious +Princess,” Harriet had sung her part at a moment’s notice. Until then +she had been Mignon La Salle’s understudy. Struck by a sudden thought +Marjorie stopped short. Jerry had evidently forgotten that Mignon knew +the rôle. Still, it would do no good to remind her of it, or Laurie +either. She believed that Jerry, at least, would infinitely prefer that +the operetta should never be given rather than allow Mignon to sing in +it. The mere mention of it was likely to make her cross. Marjorie +decided to keep her own counsel. She had no reason to wish to see Mignon +thus honored, particularly after her treacherous attempt to do Constance +out of her part. Then, too, there was the new grievance of the Observer +against her. + +By the time school was over for the day, Constance had already been +acquainted with the dire news. Apart from her two chums, Jerry had told +no one else except Hal and Laurie. When the three girls emerged from the +school building, accompanied by Susan, Muriel and Irma, they saw the two +young men waiting for them across the street. The latter three faithful +satellites immediately took themselves off with much giggling advice to +Jerry that four was a company, but five a crowd. Jerry merely grinned +amiably and refused to join them. She knew her own business. + +“This is too bad, Jerry,” were Laurie’s first words. “What are we to +do?” + +“That’s for you to say,” shrugged Jerry. “All I can think of to do is +have a try-out of the chorus. If none of them can sing Harriet’s part, +we’ll have to call it off. I mean postpone it.” Jerry cast a sly glance +at Hal to see if he had noticed her polite amendment. + +“What have you to say, Constance and Marjorie?” queried Laurie. “But the +street is not the place for a consultation. Suppose we go down to +Sargent’s to talk it over. I spoke to Professor Harmon this afternoon, +but he said he’d rather leave it to me. He’s busy just now with that new +boy choir at the Episcopal Church. He wants me to direct the operetta.” + +Voicing approval of this last, the three girls allowed their willing +cavaliers to steer them toward Sargent’s hospitable doors. Hal, Marjorie +and Jerry took the lead, leaving Constance and Laurie to follow. Nothing +further relating to the problem that had risen was said until the five +were seated at a rear table in the confectioner’s smart little shop. +Then Laurie abruptly took it up. “We are ready for suggestions,” he +invited. + +“I have one.” There was a peculiar note of uncertainty in Constance’s +voice as she spoke. “You are not going to be pleased with it, but it +seems to me the only thing to do.” More boldly she added: “Let Mignon La +Salle sing the part.” + +“Never!” burst from Laurie and Jerry simultaneously. + +The appearance of a white-coated youth to take their order halted the +discussion for a moment. As he hurried away Marjorie’s soft voice was +heard: “I thought of that, too, this morning. I had made up my mind not +to speak of it. Connie makes me ashamed of myself. Connie is willing for +Mignon to sing the part that she cheated herself of. I think we ought to +be.” + +In silence Laurie stared at her across the table, his brows knitted in a +deep frown. Then his gaze rested on Constance. “You girls are queer,” he +said slowly. “I don’t understand you at all.” + +“I do,” declared Jerry, far from pleased. “I can’t say I agree with +them, though. If we ask Mignon to sing the part (I don’t know who’s +going to ask her), she will parade around like a peacock. She may say +'no' just for spite. She doesn’t speak to any of us.” Then she added in +a milder tone, “I suppose her father would dance a hornpipe if we let +her sing it. I heard he felt terribly about the way she performed last +Spring. You know he put off a business trip just to go to hear her sing, +and then she didn’t. She had nobody but herself to blame, though.” + +Unwittingly, Jerry had struck a responsive chord in Hal. Leaning +forward, he said impulsively, “Then I think I’d ask her, Laurie. Mr. La +Salle is a fine man. His office is next to Dad’s. I often go in there +and talk to him. He is mighty interesting. He has traveled all over the +world and knows how to tell about what he’s seen. He’s all wrapped up in +Mignon. You can see that. I wish you’d ask her just on his account. It +would pay up for last Spring.” + +“Three against two,” grumbled Jerry, “and one of them my own brother. Do +we stand our ground, Laurie, or do we not?” + +Laurie did not answer immediately. He had not forgiven the French girl +her transgression against Constance. The battery of earnest blue and +brown eyes bent upon him proved fatal to his animosity. “Our ground +seems to be shaky,” he answered. “The majority generally rules.” + +“Then you _will_ ask her?” Constance flashed him a radiant smile that +quite repaid him for his hinted decision in Mignon’s favor. “It will +have to be you. She wouldn’t do it for us.” + +Laurie showed lively consternation. “Oh, see here——” Innate chivalry +toward girlhood overtook him. “All right,” he answered. “I’ll ask her.” + +In the midst of countless woes, arising from her unwilling allegiance to +Rowena Farnham, Mignon next day received the glorious invitation from a +most studiedly polite young man. If anyone other than Lawrence Armitage +had come to her with the request she would, in all probability, refused +pointblank to countenance the idea. Mignon still cherished her +school-girl preference for the handsome young musician. She, therefore, +assented to the proposal with only the merest show of reluctance. Laurie +made it very plain, however, that Constance Stevens desired it. +Inwardly, Mignon writhed with anger; outwardly, she was a smiling image +of amiability. + +Afterward she experienced the deepest satisfaction in boasting to Rowena +of the honor which had come to her. + +“I think I’ll be in that operetta, too,” had been Rowena’s calm +decision. “I’ll go to that Lawrence Armitage and tell him I shall sing +in the chorus.” Straightway, she went on this laudable errand, only to +be politely but firmly informed that there were no chorus vacancies. +Over this she raged to Mignon, then consoled herself and dismayed the +French girl by calmly announcing, “I’m going to the theatre with you +just the same and watch the silly operetta from behind the scenes. Let +me know when you have your rehearsals, for I intend to go to them, too.” + +Resorting to craft, Mignon managed to attend the first rehearsal without +Rowena. The latter discovered this and pounced upon her on her way home +with a torrent of ungentle remarks. Bullied to tears, Mignon was obliged +to allow Rowena to accompany her to the second and third rehearsals, the +third being the last before the public performance. + +Though the cast secretly objected to this, they made no open +manifestation of their disgust. It was now fairly well known how matters +stood between Rowena and Mignon. The latter had no reason to complain of +the universally civil treatment she received. It was merely civil, +however, and contained no friendliness of spirit. By the entire cast the +French girl was regarded as an evil necessity. For that reason they also +reluctantly endured Rowena’s presence. But Rowena derived no pleasure +from her intrusion, except the fact that she was a source of covert +annoyance to all parties. Her jealous soul was filled with torment at +being left out of the production. Shrewd intuition alone warned her not +to create even the slightest disturbance. She had determined to go with +the cast to Riverview. Consequently, she did not propose cutting off her +nose to spite her face. + +The knowledge that the proceeds from the operetta were to be devoted to +school use, rallied the Sanfordites to the cause. The Sanford +performances went off without a hitch before a huge and delighted +assemblage. It may be set down to her credit that Mignon La Salle sang +the part of the proud step-sister even better than Harriet Delaney had +rendered it. Her dramatic ability was considerable and her voice and +temperament were eminently suited to her rôle. On this one occasion her +long-suffering parent was not disappointed in his daughter. Natural +perspicacity caused him to wonder not a little how it had all come +about, and he made a mental note to inquire into it at the first +opportunity. Strongly disapproving of the intimacy between Mignon and +Rowena Farnham, he was hopeful that this honor done his daughter would +throw her again among the finer type of the Sanford girls. From his +young friend Hal Macy he had received glowing descriptions of Marjorie +and her close friends, and he longed to see Mignon take kindly to them. + +Could he have peeped into Mignon’s subtle brain, his dreams would have +vanished in thin air. Ever the ingrate, she was thankful to none for the +unexpected chance to glitter. At heart she was the same tigerish young +person, ready to claw at a moment’s notice. Within her lurked two +permanent desires. One of them was to win the interest of Lawrence +Armitage; the other to be free of Rowena. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI—ROWENA RE-ARRANGES MATTERS + + +THE Sanford performance of “The Rebellious Princess” took place on +Friday evening. Late the following afternoon the illustrious cast were +conveyed by train or motor to Riverview, the scene of Saturday evening’s +operations. Marjorie, Constance, Mr. and Mrs. Dean drove there in the +Deans' motor. Accompanied by Mrs. Macy, Jerry, Susan, Muriel and Irma +motored to Riverview together. Hal and Laurie sought temporary freedom +from the fair sex in the latter’s roadster. Mr. La Salle had promised, +at Mignon’s earnest request, to drive to Riverview with her in her +runabout. She had adopted this means of thus temporarily eliminating +Rowena. Not daring to thrust herself upon Mignon when bolstered by her +father’s protection, Rowena had declared buoyantly that she would be +there anyway. + +Unfortunately for Mignon, a sudden business emergency sent Mr. La Salle +speeding to Buffalo on the Saturday morning train. Before going, +however, he instructed his chauffeur to drive Mignon to the train for +Riverview and see her safely on it. With others of the cast on the same +train, she would be in good company. But the best laid plans often go +astray. Ever on the alert for treachery, Rowena saw Mr. La Salle depart +and hurrying to the La Salle’s home soon bullied the true state of +affairs from his petulant offspring. + +“Don’t bother about taking the train,” Rowena counseled arrogantly. +“James will drive us over to Riverview in our limousine. He can stay +there until the show is over and bring us home.” + +“I can’t do that,” parried Mignon. “My father gave orders to William to +drive me to the train the cast is to take and put me on it. If I were to +go with you, William would tell him.” + +“Oh, no, he wouldn’t,” retorted Rowena. “Just let me talk to William.” +Without waiting for further excuses from Mignon, the self-willed +sophomore dashed out of the house in the direction of the La Salle +garage. Mignon followed her, divided between vexation and approbation. +She was far from anxious to make the journey to Riverview by train. For +once Rowena stood for the lesser of two evils. + +“Come here, William,” called Rowena, pausing outside the open garage +door and imperiously beckoning the chauffeur who was engaged in putting +a fresh tire on Mignon’s runabout. + +“What is it, Miss?” asked the man, as he frowningly approached Rowena. + +“You needn’t take Miss La Salle to the train this afternoon. She’s going +with me. She has so much luggage she can’t manage it on the train, so +she had to make different arrangements.” Rowena presented a formidably +smiling front as she gave her command. + +“But Mr. La Salle——” protested William. + +“Don’t be impertinent,” was the freezing interruption. “We know our own +business. Miss La Salle’s father will know all about it when he returns. +Won’t he?” She turned to Mignon for confirmation. + +“It is all right, William,” the latter assured him, purposely neglecting +to answer Rowena’s question. “My father will be told when he returns. He +forgot about my luggage.” + +“All right, Miss Mignon.” William was far too discreet to court the +double attack, which he knew would be forthcoming, should he continue to +protest. Miss Mignon always did as she pleased, regardless of her +father. He made mental note, however, to clear himself the instant his +employer returned. + +“That was simple enough,” exulted Rowena, as they turned away. “You +ought to be glad I fixed everything so nicely for you. I expect some of +those snippy girls will be anything but pleased to have me behind the +scenes to-night.” + +“You’d better keep to my dressing room,” warned Mignon. “On account of +it being a different theatre, there is sure to be some confusion. Laurie +Armitage won’t like it if you go strolling around among the cast the way +you’ve done at rehearsals.” + +“You just attend to your own affairs,” blustered Rowena, “and I’ll +attend to mine. Who cares what that high and mighty Lawrence Armitage +thinks? He’s so wrapped up in that milk-and-water baby of a Constance +Stevens he doesn’t know you are alive. Too bad, isn’t it?” + +Mignon turned red as a poppy. She began to wish she had not allowed +Rowena to alter the arrangements her father had prudently made. Frowning +her displeasure at the brutal taunt, she cast a half-longing glance +toward the garage. There was still time to inform William that she had +changed her mind. + +Instantly Rowena marked the glance and divined its import. It did not +accord with her plans. If she drove Mignon to reconsider her decision, +it meant one of two things. To quarrel openly with her would place +beyond reach the possibility of accompanying her to Riverview. If Rowena +went there alone she could not hope to be allowed to go behind the +scenes. On the other hand she dared not jeopardize her control over +Mignon by permitting her to gain even one point. + +“Don’t be foolish,” she advised in a more conciliatory tone. “I was only +teasing you about that Stevens girl. One of these days this Armitage boy +will find out what a silly little thing she is. If you are nice to me, I +daresay I can help him to find it out.” + +Mignon brightened visibly. From all she had learned of Rowena’s +practical methods, she believed her capable of accomplishing wonders in +the mischief-making line. “I suppose you mean well,” she said a trifle +sullenly. “Still, I don’t think you ought to say such cutting things to +me, Rowena.” + +Thus once more a temporary truce was declared between these two wayward +children of impulse. Though neither trusted the other, sheer love of +self admonished them that they could accomplish more by hanging +together. Mignon, however, was destined to learn that an unstable prop +is no more to be relied upon than no prop at all. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII—THE RESULT OF PLAYING WITH FIRE + + +“See here, Jerry, can’t something be done to keep that Miss Farnham from +completely upsetting the cast?” Laurie Armitage’s fine face was dark +with disapproval as he halted Jerry, who was hurrying by him toward +Constance’s dressing room. “I just heard her telling one of the girls in +the chorus that her costume was 'frightfully unbecoming.' The poor girl +turned red and looked ready to cry. She’s been circulating among the +chorus ever since she and Mignon landed in the theatre. Goodness knows +what else she has been saying. It won’t do. This isn’t Sanford, you +know. We hope to give a perfect performance here. I wish I had told +Mignon not to bring her. I hated to do it, though. She might have got +wrathy and backed out at the last minute. If ever I compose another +operetta, I’ll let somebody else manage it. I’m through,” Laurie +concluded in disgust. + +“Why don’t you ask Mignon to keep her in the dressing room?” suggested +Jerry. “She’s the only one who can manage Row-ena. I doubt if _she_ +can.” + +“Might as well touch a match to a bundle of firecrackers,” compared +Laurie gloomily. “Can’t you think of anything else?” + +Jerry studied for a moment. As Laurie’s helper she felt that she ought +to measure up to the situation. “It’s almost time for the show to +begin,” she said. “The chorus will soon be too busy to bother with her. +After the first act, she’ll be in Mignon’s dressing room. Then I’ll slip +around among the girls and whisper to them not to mind her. She can’t +bother the principals. She doesn’t dare go near Constance or any of the +boys like Hal and the Crane.” + +“Please do that.” Laurie sighed with relief. “It will help me a great +deal.” + +Unaware that she had become the victim of a needful strategy, Rowena was +serenely deriving huge enjoyment from the brutally frank criticisms she +was lavishing right and left among the unoffending choirsters. It was a +supreme happiness to her to see her carefully delivered shots strike +home. But her ambition to wound lay not entirely with the chorus. She +was yearning for a chance to nettle Constance Stevens, whom she hated by +reason of the impassable gulf that lay between Constance and herself. +Never, since she had come to Sanford, had Constance appeared even to +know that she existed. This galled Rowena beyond expression. As a leader +among the high school girls she had deemed Constance worth cultivating. +She might as readily have tried to bring down the North Star as to +ingratiate herself with this calm, lovely girl, and she knew it. Here +was something which she could not obtain. Failing, she marked her as a +victim for ridicule and scorn. + +The first act over at last, Rowena posted herself in Mignon’s dressing +room and proceeded to regale the latter with a derisive, laughing +account of her fruitful wanderings among the cast. Mignon listened to +her with indifference. As she opened the second act, her mind was on her +rôle. She was hardly aware that her tormentor had left the dressing room +until she became conscious that the high-pitched tones had suddenly +ceased. + +Mignon proving altogether too non-committal to suit her difficult fancy, +Rowena had fared forth in search of fresh adventure. The star dressing +room, occupied by Constance, lay two doors farther down the corridor. In +passing and repassing it that evening, Rowena had vainly ransacked her +guileful brain for an excuse to invade it. Now as she left Mignon’s +dressing room she decided to put on an intrepid front and pay Constance +a call. Her large, black eyes danced with pure malice as she doubled a +fist and pounded upon the closed door. + +“Who is there?” came from within. The vigorous tattoo had startled +Constance. + +For answer Rowena simply swung open the door and stepped into the room. +“I thought I’d pay you a call,” she announced with cool complacence. + +Seated before a low make-up shelf on which reposed a mirror, Constance +was engaged in readjusting her coiffure, which had become slightly +loosened during the first act. Her blue eyes showed wondering surprise +as she turned in her chair to face the intruder. From Jerry she had +already heard angry protests against this mischievous girl. Quiet +Constance now read fresh mischief in the intrusion. She resolved to +treat her uninvited guest civilly. If possible she would try to keep her +in the dressing room until the second act was called. Better that than +allow her to further annoy the other girls. As she had no change of +costume to make she was free to entertain her unbidden visitor. + +“Sit down,” she evenly invited, neither cordial nor cold. “How do you +like the operetta?” + +Rather taken aback by this placid reception, Rowena dropped gracefully +into a chair, her dark eyes fixed speculatively on her hostess. +Shrugging her shoulders she gave a contemptuous little laugh as she +answered: “Oh, these amateur productions are all alike. _Some_, of +course, are more stupid than others.” + +“Do you include the poor Princess among the more stupid?” asked +Constance, smiling in spite of herself at this patent attempt to be +disagreeable. + +“I don’t include it in anything. I don’t even know what it’s all about. +I only came to rehearsals and here to amuse myself. Sanford is the +deadest town I was ever in and Sanford High School is a regular +kindergarten. I suppose you know who I am, don’t you?” Rowena crested +her auburn head a trifle. + +“Yes. You are Miss Farnham.” Constance made reply in an enigmatic tone. + +A threatening sparkle leaped to the other’s eyes. She was beginning to +resent Constance’s quiet attitude. “If you knew who I was, why didn’t +you speak to me at the first rehearsal?” she sharply launched. + +“I merely knew you by sight. There are many girls in Sanford High whom I +do not know personally.” + +“But _I’m_ different,” pursued Rowena. “My father is very rich and I can +have whatever I like. You must know that. You ought to associate with +girls of your own class. Your aunt has lots of money and can give you +social position. That Geraldine Macy is the only rich girl you ever go +with. All the others are just middle class. You’re foolish to waste your +time on Marjorie——” + +Constance had received Rowena’s first words with secret amusement. As +she continued to listen her inward smile changed to outward, rather. At +mention of Marjorie her self-imposed placidity flew to the winds. +“Kindly leave my dressing room,” she ordered, her voice shaking with +indignation. “Marjorie Dean is my dearest friend. No one can belittle +her to me. Least of all, _you_.” Constance had slowly risen, her blue +eyes dark with the injury to one she loved. + +“I thought that would bring you to life,” laughed Rowena, making no move +to rise. As she sat there, the light playing on her ruddy hair, her +black eyes agleam with tantalizing mirth, Constance could not but wonder +at her tigerish beauty. To quote Muriel, she did resemble “a big, +striped tiger.” + +Without answering, Constance moved to the door and opened it. She was +about to step into the corridor when Rowena sprang forward and clutched +her by the arm. “You milk-and-water baby, do you think——” She did not +finish. As Constance stepped over the threshold she came almost into +collision with Lawrence Armitage. His keen glance immediately took in +the situation. He saw Rowena’s arm drop to her side. Brushing past +Constance like a whirlwind, she gained the shelter of Mignon’s dressing +room and disappeared. + +“Hurry. You’ll miss your cue. I didn’t see you in the wings and came to +warn you. Run along. I’ll see you later,” uttered Laurie rapidly. His +words sent Constance moving rapidly toward the stairway. His lips +tightened as he watched her disappear. For a moment he stood still, +then, turning, took the same direction. + +“Just a moment, Miss La Salle.” Seeking the stairway at the close of the +second act, Mignon was halted by a troubled young man. “I don’t wish to +be disagreeable, but—Miss Farnham must either remain in your dressing +room during the third act or go out in the audience. I am not blaming +you. You’ve sung your part splendidly to-night and I appreciate your +effort. Will you help me in this? We don’t wish anything to occur to +spoil the rest of the operetta. I am sure you understand.” Appeal looked +out from his deeply blue eyes. + +“Of course I’ll help you.” Mignon experienced a sudden thrill of +triumph. Lawrence Armitage was actually asking her to do him a favor. +Valiance rose within her. She quite forgot her dread of Rowena’s +bluster. Flashing him her most fascinating smile, she held out her hand +in token of good faith. Inwardly she was hoping that Constance might +happen along to witness the tableau. Laurie clasped it lightly. He was +not in the least impressed. “Thank you.” He wheeled abruptly and turned +away. + +Mignon ran lightly down the stairs and to her dressing room. Inspired by +the recent interview, she promptly accosted the ubiquitous Rowena, as +she lounged lazily in a chair. “You mustn’t go out of the dressing room +or upstairs again until the operetta is over,” she dictated. “Laurie +doesn’t want you to. He just spoke to me about it. He has allowed you a +lot of liberty already, so I think you’d better do as he says. It won’t +be long now until——” + +“So _Laurie_ thinks he can order me about, does he?” Rowena sprang to +her feet in a rage. “_That_ for Laurie!” She snapped contemptuous +fingers. “This is your work. You’ve been talking about me to him. But +you’ll be sorry. I know a way——” + +Her mood swiftly changing she threw back her head and laughed. Resuming +her chair she sat silently eyeing Mignon with a mirthful malevolence +that sent a shiver of apprehension up and down the French girl’s spine. +Rowena had undoubtedly been inspired with an idea that boded no good to +her. As she dressed for the third act she cast more than one nervous +glance at the smiling figure of insolence in the chair. + +Not a word further had been exchanged between the two when the third act +was called. Mignon half expected to see Rowena rise and follow her up +the stairs, there to create a scene with Laurie that would delay the +rise of the curtain. Nothing of the kind occurred, however, and the last +act began and went on to a triumphant end. + +After the curtain had been rung down on the final tableau, she made a +dash for the stairs to encounter Rowena ascending them. She had already +donned her evening cape and scarf. At sight of Mignon she called out in +the careless, good-humored fashion she could assume at will: “Hurry up. +I’m going on out to the limousine. I need a breath of fresh air.” + +Partially convinced that Rowena had recovered from her fit of temper, +Mignon gladly hastened to do her bidding. It was not until she began to +look about for her high-laced boots that she changed her mind concerning +her companion. They were nowhere to be seen. “Rowena has hidden them, +just to be aggravating!” she exclaimed angrily. “That was her revenge. +But I’ll find them.” + +After a frantic ten-minutes' search she managed to locate them, tucked +into either sleeve of the long fur coat she had worn. Thankful to find +them, she laced them in a hurry and proceeded to dress with all speed. A +repeated receding of footsteps and gay voices from the direction of the +stairway warned her that the dressing rooms were being rapidly deserted. +Those who had come to Riverview by railway had only a short time after +the performance in which to catch the last train for the night. + +Taking the stairs, two at a time, Mignon made a rush for the stage door +and on out into the cold, starlit night. The first thing she noted was a +large part of the cast hurriedly boarding a street car for the station. +But where was the Farnham limousine and Rowena? Where was the little +line of automobiles she had seen parked along the street when she +entered the theatre? Only one now remained, almost a block farther up +the street. Her heart beat thankfully as she observed it. It looked like +the Farnham limousine. It was just like Rowena to thus draw away a +little distance in order to scare her into thinking she had been left +behind. + +Racing toward it she saw that the chauffeur was engaged in examining one +of its tires. She heard a cheery voice call out, “All right, Captain,” +and her knees grew weak. The voice did not sound like that of James, the +Farnhams’ chauffeur. Hoping against hope she came abreast of it. Then +her elfin eyes grew wide with despair. It was not the Farnhams' car. It +belonged to none other than the Deans. + +Heartsick, she was about to turn away when a fresh young voice called +out, “Mignon La Salle!” Forgetting everything except that she was in +difficulties, she halted and managed to articulate, “Have you seen Miss +Farnham’s car?” + +“Why, no,” came the wondering reply. “Have you missed her?” + +“I saw her go by in a limousine,” stated Constance Stevens, from the +tonneau of the Deans' car. “She was driving and the chauffeur was +sitting beside her.” + +A belated light now dawned upon Mignon. She understood that this was the +fruition of Rowena’s threat. She had purposely run off and left her, +knowing that she could not hope to catch the last train. + +In the dark of the tonneau, Constance gave Marjorie’s hand a quick +pressure. Its instant return signified that her chum understood. Without +hesitation she called to the tragic little figure on the sidewalk, +“We’ll take you home, Mignon. It’s lucky that General stopped to examine +that tire.” Then to her father, “This is Mignon La Salle, Father. You +know her, Mother.” + +“Yes.” Mrs. Dean bowed in reserved fashion. “Get into the tonneau with +the girls, Miss La Salle. We will see that you arrive safely at your own +door.” + +The unexpected courtesy very nearly robbed the stranded girl of speech. +Stammering her thanks, Mignon climbed ruefully into the tonneau and +seated herself by Marjorie. As the car began a loud purr, preparatory to +starting, her outraged feelings overcame her and she burst into tears. +“It was hateful in her,” she sobbed, “perfectly hateful.” + +“It was,” agreed Marjorie positively. “But I wouldn’t cry about it. You +are all right now.” Then with a view to cheering the weeper, she added: +“You sang your part beautifully both nights, Mignon. That’s something to +be glad of. This little trouble doesn’t really matter, since everything +turned out well.” + +“It’s nice in you to say it,” quavered Mignon. “But, oh, how I despise +that hateful, hateful girl. I’ll never, never speak to her again as long +as I live.” + +Marjorie might easily have assured her that this was a wise decision. +Instead, she prudently refrained from committing herself. Mignon’s mind +continued to dwell on her wrongs. She cried and raged against her +treacherous companion during most of the ride home. Constance and +Marjorie were obliged to listen and administer judicious consolation. It +did not appear to sink deep. Mignon was too self-centered to realize +their generosity of spirit. When they left her at the La Salle’s gate +she tried to put graciousness into her thanks, but her thoughts were too +firmly fixed upon faithless Rowena and herself to appreciate the +kindness she had received. + +“For once Mignon had to swallow a dose of her own medicine,” commented +Constance grimly, as the Deans' car sped away toward their home, where +Connie was to spend the night with Marjorie. + +“She found it pretty hard to take,” mused Marjorie. “It’s a good thing, +though. This will end Mignon’s friendship with Rowena, but it won’t +change her one little bit. I don’t believe she’ll ever change.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII—A PECULIAR REQUEST + + +“Four letters for you, Lieutenant. Hunt them,” decreed Mrs. Dean, as +Marjorie burst into the living room, her cheeks rosy from the nipping +kisses of the winter air. + +“Oh, I know where they are.” Jubilantly overturning the contents of her +mother’s sewing basket, she triumphantly drew them forth. Without +bothering to remove her wraps she plumped down at her mother’s feet to +revel in her spoils. + +“Here’s one from Mary. I’ll read that last. Here’s one from Harriet.” +Opening it she read it through and passed it to her mother. “Harriet’s +almost well again. Isn’t that good news? Why——” she had opened the +next—“it’s from Mignon; a little note of thanks. Oh, Captain!” she +stared hard at the note. “I’ve discovered something. Mignon’s not the +horrid Observer. See. The writing and paper and all are quite different. +I’m sure she isn’t. She’d never ask anyone else to write such letters. +It’s not her way.” + +“Then that is good news, too,” smiled Mrs. Dean. “I am also glad to know +it. It is dreadful to misjudge anyone.” + +“I know that. I wish I knew who the Observer was, too.” Marjorie sighed +and took up the next letter. As she read it she laughed outright. “It’s +from General, the old dear. Just listen: + + “Esteemed Lieutenant: + + “Head up, forward march to the downtown barracks. Report for stern + duty at 4:30 to-morrow (Thursday) P. M. Your most military presence + is requested to assist in conferring with an official committee in a + matter of great importance to the parties concerned. Failure to + appear on time will be punished by court-martial. Be warned not to + try to ambush your general in the living room to ascertain the facts + beforehand. You will only be captured and sent to the guard house. + + “Signed, + “General Dean.” + +“It’s a surprise,” nodded Marjorie. “I know it is. Very well, I’ll show +him that I’m not a bit curious. I’ll tell him, though, that it’s not +fair to threaten a soldier. Do you know what it’s about, Captain?” + +“No; I am equally in the dark. I wouldn’t tell you if I knew,” Mrs. Dean +answered teasingly. + +“I wouldn’t let you,” retorted Marjorie. “I have to be loyal to my +orders. Now I’ll read Mary’s letter and then go and answer it. If I +don’t answer it now I might put it off.” + +Laying the three notes aside, she busied herself with the long letter +from Mary, reading it aloud with numerous exclamations and comments. +True to her word, she made no mention to her father of his letter. +Delighting to tease her, he hinted broadly concerning it, but failed to +draw Marjorie into questioning him. + +Nevertheless, it was a most curious young woman who entered his office +the following afternoon at the exact moment of appointment. Her +curiosity was lost in wide-eyed amazement as she saw that he was not +alone. Seated in a chair beside his desk was a stout, dark man of middle +age, whose restless, black eyes and small, dark mustache bespoke the +foreigner. But this was not the cause of her astonishment. It lay in the +fact that the man was Mignon La Salle’s father. Both men rose as she +entered, Mr. La Salle bowing to her in the graceful fashion of the +Frenchman. + +“Sit here, Lieutenant. Mr. La Salle wishes to talk with you. He is kind +enough to allow me to be present at the conference.” + +“Miss Marjorie, I have not had the pleasure of meeting you before +to-day. It is a very great pleasure. I have already thanked your father +for his kindness to my daughter several evenings since. Now I must thank +you, too. But I wish also to ask a far greater favor. My daughter, +Mignon,” he paused as though at a loss to proceed, “is a somewhat +peculiar girl. For many years she has had no mother.” He sighed, then +continuing, “I wish her to be all that is good and fine. But I am a busy +man. I cannot take time to be with her as I would desire. From my friend +Harold Macy I have heard many pleasant things of you and your friends. +So I have thought that it might be well to ask you if you——” Again he +paused, his black eyes riveted on Marjorie, “if you will take an +interest in my daughter, so that I may feel that her associates are of +the best. + +“I regret greatly her friendship with Miss Farnham. But that is past. +She has told me all, and I have forbidden their further intimacy. +Perhaps you are already the friend of my Mignon? If so, it is, indeed, +well. If not, may I hope that you will soon become such, indeed?” There +was a trace of pleading in his carefully enunciated speech with its +slightly foreign accent. + +A queer, choking sensation gripped Marjorie’s throat. She was +immeasurably touched. Happy in her General’s love, she glimpsed +something of the tender motive, which had actuated this stern man of +business to plead for his daughter’s welfare. + +“I am willing to be Mignon’s friend, if she is willing to be mine,” she +answered with grave sweetness. “I think I may speak for my friends, +also.” + +“Thank you. She will respond, I am sure.” A faint tightening of his thin +lips gave hint that he would see to the exaction of that response. “It +will be a pleasure to invite you to dine with us to-morrow evening,” he +added. La Salle Père evidently intended to allow no grass to grow under +his feet. + +“Thank you. May I go, General?” Marjorie’s eyes sought her father’s. +Though she had maintained a gracious composure, he guessed that she was +far from easy over this queer turn of affairs. There was a faintly +martyred look in her brown eyes. + +“Yes,” he said in a steady, reassuring tone. “Your General approves.” He +flashed her a mischievous glance. + +“Then you may expect me.” Marjorie rose and offered her hand to the +anxious father. “I must go now,” she said. “I am very glad to have met +you, Mr. La Salle.” + +Once outside the office she drew a long breath of dismay. “I’m quite +sure of most of the girls,” was her reflection, “but what, oh, what will +Jerry say?” + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV—AN UNEXPECTED CALAMITY + + +Jerry had a great deal to say. She was so justly wrathful she very +nearly cried. “It’s the worst thing I ever heard of,” she sputtered. “I +wish we’d never revived that old operetta. Then Mignon wouldn’t have +sung in it and got left at the switch, and you wouldn’t be asking us to +make martyrs of ourselves. After all you’ve said about being through +with Mignon, too! It’s a shame!” + +“But just suppose her father had come to you and asked you to help her, +what would you have done?” pleaded Marjorie. + +“Told him Mignon’s history and advised him to lock her up,” snapped +Jerry. “I hope—— Oh, I don’t know what I hope. I can’t think of anything +horrible enough to hope.” + +“Poor Jeremiah. It’s too bad.” Marjorie’s little hand slipped itself +into the plump girl’s fingers. “You know you’d have done just as I did. +I had quite a long talk with Mignon last night. After dinner her father +left us to ourselves. It wasn’t exactly pleasant. She would say mean +things about Rowena. Still, she said she’d like to try again and wished +that we would all help her. So I said for all of us that we would. You +won’t back out, will you, Jerry?” + +“I don’t know. Wait a week or two and see what she does, then I can tell +better. You’ve got to show me. I mean, I must be convinced.” Jerry +wrinkled her nose at Marjorie and giggled. Her ruffled good humor was +smoothing itself down. + +“That means, you _will_ help her,” was Marjorie’s fond translation. +“Constance is willing, too. I am sure of Irma and Harriet, but Susan and +Muriel are doubtful. Still, I think I can win them over if I tell them +that you are with me in our plan.” + +“There’s just this much about it, Marjorie.” Jerry spoke with unusual +seriousness. “Mignon will have to play fair or I’ll drop her with a +bang. Just like that. The first time I find her trying any of her +deceitful tricks will be the last with me. Remember, I mean what I say. +If anything like that happens, don’t ask me to overlook it, for I won’t. +Not even to please you, and I’d rather please _you_ than anybody else I +know.” + +“I’ll remember,” laughed Marjorie. She was not greatly impressed by +Jerry’s declaration. The stout girl was apt to take a contrary stand, +merely for the sake of variety. She had expected that Jerry would scold +roundly, then give in with a final threatening grumble. + +Susan and Muriel she found even harder to convince of Mignon’s +repentance than Jerry. Muriel was especially obstinate. “I’ll speak to +Mignon,” she stipulated, “but I won’t ask her to my house or go any +place with her. Now that we’ve made over five hundred dollars out of the +operetta for the library, you know we’ve been talking about getting up a +club. Of course, she’ll want to be in it. But she sha’n't.” + +“Then there’s no use in trying to help her,” said Marjorie calmly, “if +we don’t include her in our work and our good times.” + +“That’s precisely what you said last year,” retorted Muriel. “You +invited her to your party and she nearly broke it up. After that I +wonder that you can even dream of trusting her. I’ve known her longer +than you, Marjorie. When we all went to grammar school together she was +always the disturber. She used to fight with us and then come sliding +around to make up. She’d promise to be good, but she never kept her word +for long. + +“Once she behaved pretty well for three months and we began to like her +a little. Then one day some of us went to the woods on a picnic. We took +our luncheon and spread a tablecloth on the grass. When we had all the +eats spread out on the tablecloth and sat down around it, Mignon got mad +because Susan said something to me that made me laugh. We happened to +look at her, but we weren’t talking about her. She thought so, though. +She began sputtering at us like a firecracker. The more we all tried to +calm her the madder she got. Before we could stop her she caught the +tablecloth in both hands and gave it a hard jerk. You can imagine what +happened! All our nice eats were jumbled together into the grass. The +ants got into them and we had to throw nearly everything away. She +didn’t stop to help pick up things. She rushed off home and none of us +spoke to her for the rest of the year. That’s why I can’t believe in her +repentance. Sooner or later she’s bound to upset things again, just as +she did that time.” + +Marjorie could not resist laughing a little at Muriel’s tragic tale of a +woodland disaster. “I can’t blame you for feeling as you do,” she said, +“but I must keep my word to her father. It means so much to him. Being +in the operetta has given her a little start. Perhaps she’s begun to see +that it pays to do well. She knows now how it feels to be treated badly. +It must remind her of some of the mean things she’s done. If she’s ever +going to change, the time has come. But if no one believes in her, then +she’ll get discouraged and be worse than ever. Connie is willing to +help. I’d be ashamed to refuse after that. Even Jerry says she’ll +consider it.” + +“Connie is a perfect angel, and Jerry is a goose,” declared Muriel, +flushing rather guiltily. It was difficult to continue to combat +Marjorie’s plan in the face of Constance’s nobility of spirit. Constance +had been the chief sufferer at Mignon’s hands. Reminded of this, Muriel +weakened. “I suppose I ought to get in line with Connie,” she admitted. +“I’d feel pretty small if I didn’t. I can’t afford to let Jerry beat me, +either.” + +Muriel’s objections thus overruled, Susan proved less hard to convince. +Once more the reform party banded itself together to the performance of +good works. Smarting from the effects of Rowena’s cowardly spite, Mignon +was quite willing to be taken up again by so important a set of girls as +that to which Marjorie belonged. It pleased her not a little to know +that she had gained a foothold that Rowena could never hope to win. +Then, too, her father had taken a hand in her affairs. He had sternly +informed her that she must about-face and do better. Relief at being +plucked from a disagreeable situation, rather than gratitude toward her +preservers, had predominated her feelings on the eventful night at +Riverview. Fear of her father’s threat to send her away to a convent +school if she did not show rapid signs of improvement made her pause. + +Returning from his business trip, Mr. La Salle had interviewed first +William, the chauffeur, then Mignon. From an indulgent parent he became +suddenly transformed into a stern inquisitor, before whose wrath Mignon +broke down and haltingly confessed the truth. As a result he had +forbidden her further acquaintance with Rowena. Reminded afresh of his +parental duty, he had pondered long, then through the kindly offices of +Mr. Dean, arranged the meeting with Marjorie. Thus Mignon’s affairs had +been readjusted and she had been forced to agree to follow the line of +good conduct he had stretched for her. + +It was a distinct relief, however, to Marjorie and her friends to find +that Mignon was content to be merely on equitable terms. She did not try +to force herself upon them, though she received whatever advances they +made with an amiability quite unusual to her. They were immensely +amused, however, at her frigid ignoring of Rowena Farnham. Her revenge +consummated, Rowena decided to re-assume her sway over her unwilling +follower. Mignon fiercely declined to be reinstated and the two held a +battle royal in which words became sharpest arrows. Later, Rowena was +plunged into fresh rage by the news that Mignon had been taken up by the +very girls she had over and over again disparaged. + +Determined not to be beaten, she continued to waylay Mignon as she went +to and from school. Changing her bullying tactics, she next tried +coaxing. But Mignon maintained her air of virtuous frigidity and took an +especial delight in snubbing the girl she had once feared. It also gave +her infinite pleasure to paint Rowena in exceedingly dark colors to +whomever would listen to her grievances. Much of this came in +round-about fashion to the reformers. They disapproved of it intensely, +but held their peace rather than undo the little good they hoped they +had already accomplished. + +Among her schoolmates the account of Mignon’s near misfortune was +received with varying degrees of interest. A few were sympathetically +disposed; others merely laughed. Rowena, however, lost caste. Neither +her costly clothes, her caustic wit nor her impudently fascinating +personality could cover the fact that she had done a treacherous and +contemptible deed. The fact that she had left a young girl stranded at +midnight in a strange town did not add to her doubtful popularity. Quick +to discover this state of affairs, she realized that she had gone a step +too far. There was only one way in which she might redeem herself and +that lay in the direction of basket ball. + +February was speedily living out his short, changeable life. The third +of the four games between the sophomore-junior teams was to be played on +the last Saturday afternoon of the month, which fell on the +twenty-seventh. Thus far each side had won a game. Rowena decreed that +the two games yet to be played should go to the sophomores. She would +play as she had never played before. Nothing should stand in her way. +She would lead the sophomores on to glory and the acclamation of her +class would cleanse her blurred escutcheon. Once she had re-established +her power she would make Mignon sorry. + + Fortunately for her plans, the members of her team had showed no great +amount of prejudice against her since the affair of the operetta. They +treated her cordially enough during practice and applauded her clever +playing. Shrewd to a degree, she divined instantly that they cherished +no special regard for her. They were simply using her as a means to the +end. Knowing her value as a player, they were egging her on to do well +because of their hope of victory in the next two games. She did not +doubt that when the season was over there would be a general falling-off +in their cordiality unless she so greatly distinguished herself as to +win their ungrudging admiration. + +Alas for her dream of power, when the third game came off between the +two teams, it was the juniors who carried off the palm with a score of +26-14 in their favor. What galled her most was the remarkably brilliant +playing of Marjorie Dean. If there lingered a doubt in the mind of Miss +Davis regarding Marjorie’s ability to play basket ball, her work on the +floor that Saturday afternoon must have completely discounted that +doubt. What Miss Davis thought when, from the gallery, she watched the +clever playing of the girl she had endeavored to dismiss from the team, +was something which was recorded only on her own brain. It was noted by +several pairs of watchful eyes that she did not applaud the victors. She +had not forgiven them for the difficulties into which they had plunged +her on that fateful afternoon. + +Losing the game to the enemy made matters distinctly mortifying for +Rowena. Among themselves, her team-mates gloomily conceded that they had +over-rated her as a player. Though they made some effort to conceal +their resentment, their cordiality became less apparent. This second +defeat precluded all hope of doing more than tieing the score in the one +game still to be played. They needed Rowena’s help to bring about that +result. Therefore, they dared not express themselves openly. It may be +recorded here that the ideals of the four sophomore players were no +higher than those of Rowena. Their attitude toward her was glaringly +selfish and they were possessed of little loyalty. + +The final game was set for the thirteenth of March. Doggedly bent on +escaping a whitewashing, the sophomores devoted themselves to zealous +practice. So insistently frequent were their demands for the use of the +gymnasium that the junior team were obliged to make equally insistent +protest against their encroachment. + +“I am really glad that this next game is to be the last,” remarked +Marjorie to her teammates one afternoon as they were preparing to leave +the dressing room after practice. “Basket ball hasn’t seemed the same +old game this year. Perhaps I’m outgrowing my liking for it, but really +we’ve had so much trouble about it that I long for victory and peace.” + +“It’s not the game,” contested Muriel. “It’s those sophs with Rowena +Farnham leading them on. Why, even when Mignon was continually fussing +with us we never had any trouble about getting the gym for practice. Oh, +well, one week from to-morrow will tell the story. If we win it will be +a three to one victory. We can’t lose now. All the sophs can do is to +tie the score.” + +“Where were our subs to-day?” demanded Daisy Griggs. “I didn’t see +either of them.” + +“Harriet couldn’t stay for practice. She was going to a tea with her +mother,” informed Susan. “I don’t know where Lucy Warner was. I didn’t +see her in school, either.” + +“She must be sick. She hasn’t been in school for almost a week,” +commented Muriel. “She is the queerest-acting girl. You’d think to look +at her that she hated herself and everybody. She makes me think of a +picture of an anarchist I once saw in a newspaper. When she does come to +practice she just sits with her chin in her hands and glowers. I can’t +understand how she ever happened to come out of her grouch long enough +to make the team.” + +“She’s awfully distant,” agreed Marjorie dispiritedly. “I have tried to +be nice to her, but it’s no use. My, how the wind howls! Listen.” Going +to the window of the dressing room, she peered out. “It’s a dreadful +day. The walks are solid sheets of ice. The wind blew so hard I could +scarcely keep on my feet this noon.” + +“I fell down twice,” giggled Susan Atwell. “It didn’t hurt me much. I +scraped one hand on a piece of sharp ice, but I’m still alive.” + +“Be careful going down the steps,” warned Daisy Griggs, ever a youthful +calamity howler. + +“Don’t croak, Daisy. If you keep on someone will take a tumble just +because you mentioned it,” laughed Muriel. “We can’t afford that with +the game so near.” + +Dressed at last, their paraphernalia carefully stowed away, the team +trooped from the gymnasium and on to their locker room. “I wish I had +worn my fur coat,” lamented Muriel. “I’ll surely freeze in my tracks. +Are you ready, girls? Do hurry. I am anxious to face the wind and get it +over with. I think I’ll take the car home.” + +“Ugh!” shuddered Susan. Issuing from the high school building a blast of +piercing air struck her full in the face. “We’ll be blown away before we +get down the steps.” + +“Oh, come along, Susie,” urged Muriel laughingly. “Don’t mind a little +thing like that. Look at me. Here goes.” Muriel valiantly essayed the +first icy step. A fresh gust of wind assailing her, the hand holding her +muff sought her face to protect it. + +How it happened no one quite knew. A concerted scream went up from four +throats as Muriel suddenly left her feet to go bumping and sliding down +the long flight of ice-bound steps. She struck the walk in a heap and +lay still. + +“Muriel!” Forgetting the peril of the steps, Marjorie took them +heedlessly, but safely. A faint moan issued from Muriel’s lips as she +knelt beside her. Muriel moaned again, but tried to raise herself to a +sitting posture. She fell back with a fresh groan. + +“Where are you hurt?” Marjorie slipped a supporting arm under her. By +this time the others had safely made the descent and were gathered about +the two. + +“It’s my right shoulder and arm. I’m afraid my arm is broken,” gasped +Muriel, her face white with pain. + +“Let me see.” Marjorie tenderly felt of the injured member. “Do I hurt +you much?” she quavered solicitously. + +“Not—much. I guess it’s—not—broken. It’s my shoulder that hurts most.” + +Several persons had now gathered to the scene. A man driving past in an +automobile halted his car. Leaping from the machine he ran to the scene. +“Someone hurt?” was his crisp question. “Can I be of service?” + +“Oh, if you would.” Marjorie’s face brightened. “Miss Harding fell down +those steps. She’s badly hurt.” + +“Where does she live? I’ll take her home,” offered the kindly motorist. +Lifting Muriel in his arms he carried her to the car and gently +deposited her in its tonneau. “Perhaps you’d better come with her,” he +suggested. + +“Thank you, I will. Good-bye, girls. Go on over to my house and wait for +me. I’ll be there in a little while.” Lifting her hand to the three +frightened girls, who had advanced upon the machine with sundry other +curious pedestrians, Marjorie gave Muriel’s rescuer the Hardings' +address, climbed into the car and slammed the door shut. + +“Poor Muriel,” wailed Daisy Griggs, as the car rolled away. “I told her +to be careful. I hope she isn’t hurt much. And the game next week!” + +Three pairs of startled eyes met and conveyed the same dismaying +thought. What would the team do without Captain Muriel? + + + + +CHAPTER XXV—A STRENUOUS HIKE TO A TRYING ENGAGEMENT + + +Everybody knows the trite saying: “It never rains but that it pours.” +The disasters of the following week seemed quite in accord with it. +Muriel’s spectacular slide down the ice steps brought her a broken +collarbone. The three anxious girls had awaited news of Muriel at +Marjorie’s home had hardly taken their leave when the ring of the +postman brought her fresh misery. Little knowing what he did, that +patient individual handed Marjorie a letter which filled her with angry +consternation. Why in the world had the hated Observer come to life +again at such a time? + +Without waiting to read the unwelcome epistle in her Captain’s presence, +Marjorie ripped open the envelope with a savage hand. This time the +unknown was detestably brief, writing merely: + + “Miss Dean: + + “I hope you lose the game next Saturday. You are more of a snob than + ever. Defeat will do you good. Prepare to meet it. + + “The Observer.” + +“Oh!” Marjorie dashed the offending letter to the floor. Muriel’s +accident was bad enough. It had not needed this to complete her +dejection. Recapturing the spiteful message she was about to tear it +into bits. On second reflection she decided to keep it and add it to her +obnoxious collection. Something whispered to her that the identity of +the tormenting Observer would yet be revealed to her. + +Facing the lamentable knowledge that Muriel must be counted out of the +coming contest, Harriet replaced her. This in itself provided a grain of +comfort. Harriet was a skilful player and would work for the success of +the team with all her energy. The other four players congratulated +themselves on thus having such able support. Due to Muriel’s absence, +Marjorie had been asked to assume temporary captainship. Her mind now at +ease by reason of Harriet’s good work, she gave her most conscientious +attention to practice. + +Matters skimmed along with commendable smoothness until the Wednesday +before the game. Then she encountered a fresh set-back. Word came to her +that Susan Atwell had succumbed to the dreaded tonsilitis that all +through the winter had been going its deadly round in Sanford. On +receipt of the news she recalled that for the past two days Susan had +complained of sore throat. She had given it no serious thought, however. +Her own throat had also troubled her a trifle since that stormy day when +Muriel had come to grief. There was but one thing to do. Put Lucy Warner +in Susan’s position. Her heart almost skipped a beat as she faced the +fact that Lucy, too, had been absent from school for over a week. +Someone had said that Lucy was also ill. Marjorie reproached herself for +not having inquired more closely about the peculiar green-eyed junior. +“I ought to have gone to see her,” she reflected. “I’ll go to-night. +Perhaps she is almost well by this time, and can come back to school in +time for the game. If she can’t, then I’d better ask Mignon to play in +Susan’s place.” + +School over for the day she accosted Jerry and Irma with, “I can only +walk as far as the corner with you to-night. I’m going to see Lucy +Warner. She’s been sick for over a week. Did you ever hear of such bad +luck as the team has been having lately? I feel so discouraged and tired +out. I don’t believe I’ll try for the team next year.” Marjorie’s +usually sprightliness was entirely missing. Her voice had taken on a +weary tone and her brown eyes had lost their pretty sparkle. + +“You’d better go straight home and take care of _yourself_,” gruffly +advised Jerry, “or you won’t be fit to play on the team Saturday.” + +“Oh, I’m all right.” Marjorie made an attempt to look cheerful. “I’m not +feeling ill. My throat is a little bit sore. I caught cold that day +Muriel fell down the steps. But it’s nothing serious. I shall go to bed +at eight o’clock to-night and have a long sleep. I’m just tired; not +sick. I must leave you here. Good-bye. See you to-morrow.” Nodding +brightly she left the two and turned down a side street. + +“See us to-morrow,” sniffed Jerry. “Humph! I doubt it, unless we go to +her house. She’s about half sick now. It’s the first time I ever saw her +look that way. She’s so brave, though. She’d fight to keep up if she +were dying.” + +Meanwhile, as she plodded down the snowy street on her errand of mercy, +Marjorie was, indeed, fighting to make herself believe that she was +merely a little tired. Despite her languor, generosity prompted her to +stop in passing a fruit store and purchase an attractive basket filled +with various fruits likely to tempt the appetite of a sick person. She +wondered if Lucy would resent the offering. She was such a queer, +self-contained little creature. + +“What a dingy house!” was her thought, as she floundered her way through +a stretch of deep snow to Lucy’s unpretentious home. Detached from its +neighbors, it stood unfenced, facing a bit of field, which the small +boys of Sanford used in summer as a ball ground. It was across this +field that Marjorie was obliged to wend a course made difficult by a +week’s fall of snow that blanketed it. An irregular path made by the +passing and repassing of someone’s feet led up to the door. It appeared +that the Warners were either too busy or else unable to clear their +walk. + +Finding no bell, Marjorie removed her glove and knocked on the +weather-stained front door. It was opened by a frail little woman with a +white, tired face and faded blue eyes. She stared in amazement at the +trim, fur-coated girl before her, whose attractive appearance betokened +affluence. “How do you do?” she greeted in evident embarrassment. + +“Good afternoon. Are you Mrs. Warner?” Marjorie asked brightly. “I have +come to see Lucy. How is she to-day? I am Marjorie Dean.” + +“Oh, are you Miss Dean? I mailed a letter she wrote you several days +ago. Come in, please,” invited the woman cordially. “I am very glad to +see you. I am sure Lucy will be. She is better but still in bed. Will +you take off your wraps?” + +“No, thank you. I can’t stay very long. I feel guilty at not coming to +see her sooner. What is the trouble with her—tonsilitis? So many people +in Sanford are having it.” Marjorie looked slightly mystified over Mrs. +Warner’s reference to the letter. She had received no letter from Lucy. +She decided, however, that she would ask Lucy. + +“No; she was threatened with pneumonia, but managed to escape with a +severe cold. I will take you to her. She is upstairs.” + +Following Mrs. Warner up a narrow stairway that led up from a bare, +cheerless sitting room, Marjorie was forced to contrast the dismal place +with the Deans' luxurious living room. Why was it, she sadly pondered, +that she had been given so much and Lucy so little? The Warners' home +was even more poverty-stricken than the little gray house in which +Constance Stevens had once lived. Then she had deplored that same +contrast between herself and Constance. + +“Miss Dean has come to see you, Lucy,” said Mrs. Warner. Marjorie had +followed the woman into a plain little bedroom, equally bare and +desolate. + +“You!” Glimpsing Marjorie behind her mother, Lucy sat up in bed, her +green eyes growing greener with horrified disapproval. + +“Yes, I.” Marjorie flushed as she strove to answer playfully. That +single unfriendly word of greeting had wounded her deeply. The very fact +that, half sick herself, she had waded through the snow to call on Lucy +gave her a fleeting sense of injury. She tried to hide it by quickly +saying: “I must apologize for not visiting you sooner. Our team has had +so many mishaps, I have been busy trying to keep things going. I brought +you some fruit to cheer you up.” + +“I will leave you girls to yourselves,” broke in Mrs. Warner. As she +went downstairs she wondered at her daughter’s ungracious behavior to +this lovely young friend. Lucy was such a strange child. Even she could +not always fathom her odd ways. + +“Why have you come to see me?” demanded Lucy, hostile and inhospitable. +All the time her lambent green eyes remained fixed upon Marjorie. + +“Why shouldn’t I come to see you?” Marjorie gave a nervous little laugh. +Privately she wished she had not come. Embarrassment at the unfriendly +reception drove the question of the letter from her mind. + +“You never noticed me in school,” pursued Lucy relentlessly. “Why should +you now?” + +“You would never let me be friends with you,” was Marjorie’s honest +retort. “I’ve tried ever so many times. I have always admired you. You +are so bright and make such brilliant recitations.” + +“What does that matter when one is poor and always out of things?” came +the bitter question. + +“Oh, being poor doesn’t count. It’s the real you that makes the +difference. When I was a little girl we were quite poor. We aren’t rich +now; just in comfortable circumstances. If I chose my friends for their +money I’d be a very contemptible person. You mustn’t look at matters in +that light. It’s wrong. It shuts you away from all the best things in +life; like love and friendship and contentment. I wish you had said this +to me long ago. Then we would have understood each other and been +friends.” + +“I can never be your friend,” stated the girl solemnly. + +“Why not?” Marjorie’s eyes widened. “Perhaps I ought not to ask you +that. It sounded conceited. I can’t blame you if you don’t like me. +There are many persons I can’t like, either. Sometimes I try to like +them, but I seldom succeed,” she made frank admission. + +“You are a puzzling girl,” asserted Lucy, her green eyes wavering under +Marjorie’s sweetly naïve confession. “Either you are very deceitful, or +else I have made a terrible mistake.” She suddenly lay back in bed, half +hiding her brown head in the pillow. + +“I would rather think that you had made a mistake.” The rose in +Marjorie’s cheeks deepened. “I try never to be deceitful.” + +Lucy did not reply, but buried her face deeper in the pillow. An +oppressive silence ensued, during which Marjorie racked her brain as to +what she had best say next. What ailed Lucy? She was even queerer than +Marjorie had supposed. + +With a convulsive jerk Lucy suddenly sat upright. Marjorie was relieved +to observe no indication of tears in the probing green eyes. She had +feared Lucy might be crying. Why she should cry was a mystery, however. + +“If you had made a mistake about someone and then done a perfectly +dreadful thing and afterward found out that it was all a mistake, what +would you do?” Lucy queried with nervous intensity. + +“I—that’s a hard question to answer. It would depend a good deal on what +I had done and who the person was.” + +“But if the person didn’t know that it was you who did it, would you +tell them?” continued Lucy. + +“If I had hurt them very much, I think my conscience would torment me +until I did,” Marjorie said slowly. “It would be hard, of course, but it +would be exactly what I deserved. But why do you ask me such strange +things?” + +“Because I must know. I’ve done something wrong and I’ve got to face it. +I’ve just found out that I have a very lively conscience. What you said +is true. I deserve to suffer. I am the Observer.” Lucy dropped back on +her pillow, her long, black lashes veiling her peculiarly colored eyes. + +Undiluted amazement tied Marjorie’s tongue. Staring at the pitifully +white, small face against the pillow, she came into a flashing, +emotional knowledge of the embittered spirit that had prompted the +writing of those vexatious letters. “You poor little thing!” she cried +out compassionately. The next instant her soft hands held one of Lucy’s +in a caressing clasp. + +Lucy’s heavy lids lifted. “I don’t wonder your friends love you,” she +said somberly. Her free hand came to rest lightly on Marjorie’s arm. “I +know now that I could have been your friend, too.” + +“But you shall be from this minute on,” Marjorie replied, her pretty +face divinely tender. “You’ve proved your right to be. It was brave in +you to tell me. If you hadn’t been the right sort of girl you might have +decided to like me and kept what you told me to yourself. I would never +have known the difference. I am glad that I do know. It takes away the +shadow. I understand that you must have suffered a great deal. I blame +myself, too. I’m afraid I’ve thought too much about my own pleasure and +seemed snobbish.” + +“I wouldn’t have done it, only one Sunday when you were walking along +with that Miss Macy and that girl who used to live at your house, I met +you and you didn’t speak to me. All three of you were dressed +beautifully. It made me feel so bad. I was wearing an old gray suit, and +I thought you cut me on account of my clothes. I know now that I was +wrong. That was the beginning of the mistake. Then when you girls had +those expensive basket ball suits made, I thought you chose them just to +be mean to me. Of course, I didn’t expect to be invited to your parties, +but it hurt me to be passed by all the time in school.” + +“I never saw you that day, and I’m sure we never thought about how it +might look to others when we ordered our suits. You’ve taught me a +lesson, Lucy. One ought to be made careful about such things in a large +school. Someone is sure to be made unhappy. Now we must put all the bad +things away for good and think only of the nice ones. When you get well +you are going to have some good times with me. My friends will like you, +too. No one must ever know about—well, about the mistake.” + +But Lucy could not thus easily take things for granted. Remorse had set +in and she felt that she ought to be punished for her fault. After +considerable cheerful persuasion, Marjorie brought her into an easier +frame of mind. When finally she said good-bye she left behind her a most +humble Observer who had given her word thereafter to observe life from a +happier angle. + +Once away from the house a feeling of heavy lassitude overwhelmed the +patient Lieutenant. It had been a strenuous hike to a trying engagement. +Her head swam dizzily as she stumbled through the drifted field to +better walking. Her wet shoes and stockings added to her misery. How her +cheeks burned and how dreadfully her throat ached! Was Jerry’s +prediction about to be fulfilled? Was she only tired out, or had actual +sickness descended upon her just when she needed most to be well? + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI—“TURN ABOUT is FAIR PLAY” + + +“What did I tell you yesterday?” saluted Jerry Macy, the instant she +found opportunity to address Irma Linton the next morning. “Marjorie’s +sick. Her mother telephoned me before I started for school. She came +from Lucy Warner’s yesterday so sick she couldn’t see straight. Her +mother put her to bed and sent for the doctor. She has tonsilitis. Isn’t +that hard luck?” + +“I should say so. Poor Marjorie. I was afraid of that yesterday. You +know she said her throat was sore.” Irma looked unutterably sympathetic. +“And the game on Saturday, too. But it can’t be played with Marjorie, +Muriel and Susan all laid up. That leaves only Rita, Daisy and Harriet +on the team.” + +“The sophomores will have to call it off,” decreed Jerry. “It’s only +fair. The juniors did that very thing when two of the sophs were sick.” + +“You’d better see Ellen this noon or before, if you can, and tell her,” +Irma advised. “Then she can break it to the sophs to-day.” + +“I’m going to wait for her in the senior locker room this noon,” nodded +Jerry. “Then she can post a notice at once. Now I must beat it for Cæsar +recitation. I wished he’d been killed in his first battle. It would have +saved me a good deal of bother.” Jerry’s jolly chuckle belied her +vengeful comment on the valorous general. + +“You don’t say so!” exclaimed Ellen when Jerry broke the news to her. +“That _is_ too bad. Certainly the game will have to be postponed. I’ll +write a notice instantly asking the sophs to meet me in the gym at four +this afternoon. I must call up on the 'phone and inquire for Marjorie. +Dear little girl, I wish I could do a great deal more for her. Thank you +for telling me, Jerry.” Ellen hurried off to write and then post the +notice before going home to luncheon. Her lips wore a quizzical smile. +She wondered what the sophomore team would say when she told them. + +She had just finished tucking it into the bulletin board when Nellie +Simmons, a member of the sophomore team, paused curiously to read it. +The very fact that it came from Ellen’s hands indicated basket ball +news. “Hmm!” she ejaculated as she took in its contents. “What’s the +matter now?” + +“I’ll tell you at four o’clock,” Ellen flashed back. With a slight lift +of her shoulders, she walked away. Nellie’s tone had verged on the +insolent. She had hardly disappeared when Nellie faced about and hurried +toward the sophomore locker room, bumping smartly against Rowena +Farnham, who was in the act of leaving it. + +“Look out!” cried Rowena. “What are you trying to do? I’m not made of +iron.” + +“Oh, Rowena, I was hurrying to find you!” exclaimed Nellie. “Ellen +Seymour just posted a notice on the bulletin board for the team to meet +her in the gym at four o’clock. I think I know what it’s about. Marjorie +Dean is sick. I heard Jerry Macy tell Esther Lind. You know what that +means to the junior team, with two others away from it. I’m sure Ellen’s +going to ask us to postpone the game.” + +“I’ll forgive you for almost knocking me down,” laughed Rowena, her +black eyes glowing. “So Miss Seymour thinks we will postpone the game to +please her and that goody-goody Dean girl. I’ll see that she gets a +surprise. Lucky you came to me. I can fix things before I go home to +luncheon. I’m going to have a talk with Miss Davis.” + +Leaving Nellie plunged in admiration at her daring tactics, Rowena sped +up the basement stairs and down the corridor toward Miss Davis’s tiny +office. “How are you, Miss Davis?” was her offhand greeting. “I’ve come +to you for help.” + +Miss Davis viewed her visitor with mild disapproval. “I don’t care to +implicate myself in any more of your tangles, Rowena,” she declared +firmly. + +“Oh, this isn’t entirely my affair. It’s about basket ball, though. That +Dean girl is sick and Miss Seymour is going to ask us to postpone the +game just on her account. Of course, we’ll say 'no,' but Miss Seymour +won’t mind that unless you stand by us. It’s pure favoritism. Miss +Harding and Miss Atwell are sick, too. Even so, there are three of the +team left. If you say the game must go on, it will give poor Mignon a +chance to sub in the Dean girl’s place. That Esther Lind played on the +sophomore team last year. She could fill the other position and we could +have the game. Miss Seymour knows that, but she won’t pay any attention +to it. Mignon ought to have been chosen in the first place. You owe it +to her to do this for her. Besides, it will give you a good chance to +even things with the Seymour-Dean combination.” + +“I don’t like your tone, Rowena. It’s hardly respectful. As a teacher I +have no desire to 'even things,' as you express it.” Miss Davis’s +censure did not ring true. She knew that this domineering girl had no +illusions concerning her dignity of position. + +Rowena merely smiled in the bold, cheerful fashion that she always +adopted and which passed for real good humor. She did not take Miss +Davis at her word. “Think it over,” she advised. “You know you detest +favoritism.” She was well aware that Miss Davis deplored it, only to +practise it as regarded herself and Mignon. Mignon in particular had +always ranked high in her favor. + +To have heard Rowena thus pleading her cause would have astonished +Mignon not a little. It was by this very means that Rowena proposed to +seek her and win back the French girl’s allegiance. Without her +companionship, school had become very tame for lawless Rowena. + +“When is this meeting to take place?” asked Miss Davis with +well-simulated indifference. + +“At four o’clock.” Rowena thrilled with triumph. She knew she had gained +her point. + +“I may attend it,” was the teacher’s vague promise. + +“Thank you. I hope for Mignon’s sake you’ll be there.” With this sly +reminder Rowena set off, determining to waylay Mignon on her walk back +from luncheon. Not troubling to go home that noon, Rowena swallowed a +hasty luncheon at a nearby delicatessen shop and posted herself at a +corner, which Mignon was due to pass. + +“Wait a minute, Mignon,” she hailed, as the latter was about to pass her +by with a haughty toss of her head. “You must listen to me. I’ve just +fixed it for you to play on the junior team Saturday.” + +Astounded by this remarkable statement, Mignon halted. Rowena had +guessed that she would. “I don’t understand you,” she said haughtily. + +“Yes, you do,” assured Rowena blithely. “Three of the juniors are sick. +I just asked Miss Davis to let you help out. She is going to see Miss +Seymour about it this afternoon. All you have to do is to keep still +until you’re asked to play, then say 'yes.' Now do you believe I’m your +friend?” she concluded in triumph. + +Mignon’s inimitable shrug went into play. “You are very kind,” she +returned with a trace of sarcasm. “It’s about time you did something to +make up for all the trouble you caused me.” + +“That’s just it.” Rowena clutched at this providential straw, which +Mignon had unwittingly cast to her. “I _am_ trying to make it up to you. +I won’t bother you any more now. But I hope——” she paused significantly. + +“You may walk to school with me,” graciously permitted Mignon. The old +fascination of Rowena’s lawlessness was beginning to steal over her. + +“Thank you.” Rowena spoke humbly. Inwardly she was jubilant. She was +obliged to endure these stupid persons, but they were all her pawns, +willed to move about at her dictation. + +After she had left Rowena in the corridor, Mignon indulged in sober +speculation. There was more to the affair than appeared on the surface. +Formerly she would have entered into it with avidity. Now she was bound +to respect her father’s mandate or be packed off to a convent school. +She alone knew positively that recent association with Marjorie and her +chums had not changed her. But she must make a pretense at keeping up an +appearance of amiable docility. Rowena’s words still sounded in her ears +like a clarion call to battle. But she was resolved to do nothing rash. +She would wait and see before accepting the chance to play on the junior +team. It was lucky that she need not lend her presence to the meeting +that afternoon. + +When at four o’clock Ellen Seymour put the matter of postponement to +five impassive-faced girls, she was not greatly surprised to listen to +their unanimous refusal to consider the proposal. One and all they +stolidly set themselves against it. + +“You forget that the juniors treated you very nicely when your team met +with misfortune,” reminded Ellen gravely. She had vowed within herself +that she would not lose her temper. + +This reminder brought stubborn replies of, “That was different,” and +“They have plenty of equally good players to draw from.” + +In the midst of the discussion, Miss Davis appeared on the scene. Ellen +understood only too well what that meant. “What seems to be the matter +here?” she asked. “Are you discussing the question of postponing the +game?” + +Rowena cast a sidelong glance of triumph toward Nellie Simmons, which +said: “What did I tell you?” + +“We are,” was Ellen’s crisp return. “The game must be postponed.” + +It was an unlucky speech on Ellen’s part. Miss Davis had entered the +gymnasium only half decided upon championing Rowena’s cause. The cool +decision in the senior’s tones angered her. “I hardly think that will be +necessary,” she retorted. “Three of the juniors are ready to play. Miss +La Salle and Miss Lind can substitute for the others. The game will go +forward on Saturday.” + +“That is absolutely unfair,” cried Ellen. “The juniors were extremely +lenient with——” + +“That will do.” Miss Davis held up an authoritative hand. “Another word +and I will report you to Miss Archer. Then there will be _no_ game on +Saturday.” + +Ellen did not answer this threat. Her head erect, color high, she walked +from the gymnasium and straight to Miss Archer’s office. _She_ had not +threatened. She intended to act and act quickly. + +“Miss Archer, I have something important to say to you,” she burst forth +on entering the principal’s office. + +“Sit down, Ellen. I am sure it must be. Don’t tell me it is basket +ball!” Miss Archer’s lips tightened. + +“But it is.” Impetuously, Ellen poured forth her story. When she had +finished, Miss Archer’s face was not good to see. + +“I’ll attend to this, Ellen. You did right to come to me. There will be +no game on Saturday.” + +The following morning five girls received a summons to the principal’s +office that put fear into their hearts. When, one by one, they appeared, +she motioned them to be seated until the last one had completed the line +on the oak bench. Swinging in her chair, she faced them with: “There is +an old saying, girls, 'Turn about is fair play.' Since you seem to have +forgotten it, I am forced to remind you. I understand that you asked the +juniors to postpone the first basket ball game of the season, due to the +fact that your team was temporarily incapacitated. They did so. That in +itself points to an adherence to fair play. Very well. Now there comes a +time when the situation reverses itself. Having proved themselves +honorable, the juniors have called for a like demonstration of honor on +the part of the sophomores. You know best what has happened. You have +shown yourselves not only grossly ungrateful, but unfit to be trusted. +No one enjoys dealing with ingrates. One understands precisely what one +may expect from such persons. + +“During the year I have not been pleased with the various reports which +have been brought to me concerning sophomore and junior basket ball; +particularly sophomore basket ball. It is not long since I was obliged +to interfere with sophomore methods. At that time I stated that a +repetition of such unfair tactics would result in the stoppage of the +game for the rest of the year. I now declare the sophomore and junior +teams disbanded. There will be no more games between them this year. I +have just one thing further to say. It is unfortunate that the innocent +should be obliged to suffer with the guilty. You are dismissed.” + +A wavering breath of dismay passed along the row of girls as Miss Archer +pronounced sentence upon them. Their own treachery had proved a +boomerang. Dejection laid heavy hand upon four of them, as with downcast +eyes they rose and quitted the place of judgment. But the fifth member +of the disbanded team was not thus so easily dismissed. Far from +disheartened, Rowena Farnham sprang forward, hands clenched at her +sides, her face an angry flame. + +“Who are you that you dare talk of unfairness?” In her devouring rage +she fairly screamed the question. “You have disbanded the team just to +please that smug-faced, priggish Marjorie Dean. You are not fit to have +charge over a school of girls. I am ashamed to be under the same roof +with you. I shall ask my father——” + +“It strikes me that it is I who should inform your father of your +outrageous behavior to me,” interrupted Miss Archer in a stern voice. “I +hardly believe that he would countenance such impudence on your part to +one in authority over you. You may go home and remain away from school +until I send for you. I shall insist on an interview with your father at +the earliest possible moment in order to decide what is to be done with +you.” + +“You won’t have to insist on seeing him,” sneered Rowena. “He will call +on you this afternoon. My father won’t see me abused by you. He will use +his influence with the Board of Education. Then _you_ won’t be principal +of Sanford High School.” With this furious prediction of downfall Rowena +flung herself out of the office, confident that she had delivered a +telling thrust. Not daring to return to the study hall she sped to the +locker room, hastily seized her wraps and departed for her father’s +office in high dudgeon. + +The brilliantly-colored account of Miss Archer’s misdeeds which she +poured into the ears of her too-credulous father sent him on the trail +of the offending principal with fury in his eye. Less than an hour after +Rowena had made her sensational exit, a very tall, red-haired, red-faced +man stalked into Miss Archer’s office with the air of a blood-thirsty +warrior. + +“Madam,” he thundered, omitting polite preliminaries, “I am Mr. Farnham +and I wish you to understand most emphatically that you cannot criticize +my methods of bringing up my daughter. Though she may need occasional +mild discipline it is extreme bad taste in you to cast unjust +reflections upon her parents.” + +“I was not aware that I had done so.” Miss Archer had risen to confront +the slandered (?) parent. She met his angry gaze unflinchingly. “I had +intended to send for you, however. Now that you are here we may as well +settle matters at once. Your daughter——” + +“My daughter has been shamefully abused,” cut in Mr. Farnham +majestically. “I regret that I ever allowed her to enter a public +school. I shall remove her at once from it. The contaminating +influence——” + +It was Miss Archer’s turn to interrupt in clear, cutting speech. “Allow +me to amend your last statement to _her_ contaminating influence. Your +daughter is a trouble-maker. I have borne very patiently with her. I +cannot regret your decision to remove her from Sanford High School. It +simplifies matters immeasurably.” + +Miss Archer’s quiet, but intense utterance sent an unbidden thrill of +consternation over the irate man. His blustering manner had not +intimidated this regal, calm-featured woman. He experienced a sudden +sense of defeat. Fearful lest he might reveal it, he cut his call short +with, “My daughter will not return to school. Good morning.” + +Miss Archer bowed him out, feeling sorry rather than displeased with the +big, blustering man whom fatherly love had blinded to his daughter’s +faults. She wondered when, if ever, his eyes would be opened. Under what +circumstances would he awaken to full knowledge of the real Rowena? + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII—THE FIRST DUTY OF A SOLDIER + + +“And we can have the party in her room? Oh, fine! You’re awfully dear, +Mrs. Dean. We’ll be there at two this afternoon. Good-bye.” Jerry Macy +hung up the telephone receiver and did an energetic dance about the +hall. + +“Training for the Russian Ballet?” asked Hal, as, emerging from the +breakfast room, he beheld Jerry in the midst of her weird dance. + +“No, you goose. I’m doing a dance of rejoicing. Marjorie’s well enough +to see us. We are going to have a party for her this afternoon.” + +“You are a lovely girl, Jerry, and you dance beautifully.” Hal became +suddenly ingratiating. “Am I invited to the party?” + +“Certainly not. It’s an exclusive affair; no boys allowed. You may send +Marjorie some flowers, though. You’ve only sent them twice this week.” + +“I’ll do it. What time is the party?” + +“Two o’clock. Get them at Braley’s. That’s the nicest place.” Jerry was +obliged to shout this last after Hal, as, seizing his cap and coat, he +raced out the front door. + +Over two weeks had elapsed since the Thursday morning which had marked +the downfall of basket ball. During that time, Marjorie had lain in her +dainty pink-and-white bed, impatiently wondering if she were ever going +to get well. But one thing had helped to make her trying illness +endurable. Never before had she realized that she had so many friends. +Her pretty “house” looked like a florist’s shop and her willow table was +piled with offerings of fruit and confectionery sent her by her devoted +followers. Every day the mail brought her relays of cheery letters, the +burden of which was invariably, “You must hurry and get well.” + +And now the day of convalescence had dawned. She was able not only to +sit up, but to take brief strolls about her room. Her faithful Captain +had just brought her word that Jerry and the girls would be with her +that afternoon. What a lot they would have to talk about! Marjorie lay +luxuriously back among her pillows and smilingly patted a fat letter +from Mary Raymond. “How I wish you could be here, too, Lieutenant,” she +murmured. “We need you to help us with our good time. Connie’s coming +over early to help Captain dress me in my wonderful new pink negligee. +It has ruffles and ruffles. I wish you could see it, Mary.” + +“_You_ are only playing invalid,” laughingly accused Constance Stevens. +It was a little after one o’clock. She and Mrs. Dean had just finished +arraying Marjorie in the half-fitted pink silk negligee that had been +one of Captain’s cheer-up gifts to her. “I never before saw you look so +pretty, Marjorie,” she declared, as she stepped back to view the effect. +“You ought always to wear your hair down your back in long curls.” + +“Just imagine how I’d look. And I so nearly a senior, too. Connie, do +you suppose Mignon will come to my party?” Marjorie asked with sudden +irrelevance. + +“When I invited her to it she said she’d come,” returned Constance. “You +can’t tell much about her, though. The day before Miss Archer forbade +basket ball I saw Rowena stop her and walk into school with her. I +thought it rather queer. She had said so much against Rowena after that +night at Riverview.” + +“She is a strange girl,” mused Marjorie. “I am not very sorry that +Rowena Farnham has left high school. Judging from what you just said, it +wouldn’t have been long until they grew chummy again. Rowena would have +found a way to win Mignon over to her.” + +In making this prediction Marjorie had spoken more accurately than she +knew. Emboldened by her success in once more attracting Mignon’s +attention to herself, Rowena had planned to follow that move with others +equally strategic. But before she had found opportunity for a second +interview, basket ball had been doomed and she had ceased to be a pupil +of Sanford High. + +Being among the first to get wind of Miss Archer’s decree and Rowena’s +exodus from school, Mignon secretly rejoiced in the thought that she had +not been implicated in the affair. She had fully made up her mind to +accept the invitation to play on the junior team, were it extended to +her. When she discovered the true state of matters, she made haste to +declare openly that had she been asked, nothing would have induced her +to accept the offer. As for Rowena, she should have known better. After +the shabby treatment she had received from Rowena, it was ridiculous in +her to dream that she, Mignon, would lend herself to anything so +contemptible. A few such guileful speeches to the more credulous girls +caused Mignon’s stock to rise considerably higher. Others who knew her +too well looked wise and held their peace. Mignon alone knew just how +narrowly she had missed falling into a pit of Rowena’s digging. + +Quiet Constance entertained her own view of the incident. It coincided +completely with Marjorie’s thoughtful opinion. “It’s hard to part a pair +of girls like those two,” she said. “They have too much in common. +Between you and me, I don’t imagine Mignon will stick to us very long. +She’s not interested in us.” + +“No, I suppose she thinks us rather too stiff-necked. Oh, well, we can +only do our best and let the future take care of itself. There’s the +doorbell, Connie. That must be Jerry. She told Captain she’d come over +early. Will you go down and escort her in state to my house?” + +Constance vanished to return almost immediately, but without Jerry. She +had not come back empty-handed, however. A large, white pasteboard box +bearing the name “Braley’s” revealed the fact that Hal had outstripped +his sister. + +“Oh, the gorgeous things!” gurgled Marjorie, as she lifted a great sheaf +of long-stemmed pink rosebuds from the box. Her pale cheeks took color +from the roses as she spied Hal’s card with a cheering message written +underneath in his flowing, boyish hand. “He’s been such a comfort! Just +as soon as I get well I’m going to have a little dance and invite all +the boys.” Marjorie touched the fragrant token with a friendly hand. +“Laurie sent me some violets yesterday. Those on the chiffonier.” + +“He sent me some, too,” admitted Constance rather shyly. + +“How strange!” dimpled Marjorie. “Oh, there’s the bell again! That +surely must be Jerry!” + +Before Constance was half way downstairs, Jerry was half way up, her +broad face beaming, her arms laden with a large, round object, strangely +resembling a cake. + +“Oh, take it!” she gasped. “My arms are breaking.” + +Constance coming to her rescue, the two girls soon made haven with +Marjorie and a lively chattering began. Frequent alarms at the front +door denoted steadily arriving guests and a little past two found +Marjorie’s strictly informal reception in full swing, with girls tucked +into every convenient corner of her room. Her own particular chums, +including Ellen Seymour and Esther Lind, were all there. Even Susan and +Muriel, who had been busy getting well while she lay ill, were able to +be present. Lucy Warner was also among the happy throng, a trifle shy, +but with a new look of gentleness in her green eyes and a glad little +smile on her somber face. + +Mignon appeared, but did not stay to the merry-making. She was full of +polite sympathy and apparently bent on doing the agreeable. But in her +black eyes lay a curious, furtive expression, which Marjorie mentally +decided made her look more than ever like the Evil Genius. After a +sojourn of perhaps twenty minutes, during which she walked about +restlessly from girl to girl, exchanging commonplaces, she pleaded an +engagement and took her leave. + +Her presence somewhat of a strain, her departure was not mourned. Now +wholly congenial, the party dropped all reserve and became exceedingly +hilarious. Despite Mrs. Dean’s protests, they had insisted on bringing +their own refreshments, and later on Marjorie’s pink-and-white house was +turned into a veritable picnic ground. Jerry’s weighty contribution +turned out to be an immense many-layered cake, thickly iced and +decorated. “A regular whale of a cake,” she styled it, and no one +contradicted her. After the luncheon had been eaten to the ceaseless +buzz of girlish voices, each trying to out-talk the other, the company +proceeded further to amuse the lovely convalescent with various funny +little stunts at their command. + +“Girls,” at last reminded thoughtful Irma, “it is after four o’clock. We +mustn’t tire Marjorie out. I move we go downstairs to the living room +and lift up our voices for her benefit in a good, old-fashioned song. +Then we’ll come back, say good-bye and run home.” + +The wisdom of Irma’s proposal conceded, the singers trooped downstairs. +Presently, through the open door, the sound of their clear, young voices +came up to her as she lay back listening, a bright smile irradiating her +delicate features. It was so beautiful to know that others cared so much +about making her happy. She had so many things to be thankful for. + +Afterward when all except Jerry and Constance had kissed her good-bye +and departed with bubbling good wishes, she said soberly: “Girls, +doesn’t it make you positively shiver when you think that next year will +be our last in Sanford High? After that we’ll be scattered. Most of us +are going away to college. That means we’ll only see each other during +vacations. I can’t bear to think of it.” + +“Some of us will still be together,” declared Jerry stoutly. “Susan, +Muriel and I are going to Hamilton College if you do. You see, you can’t +lose us.” + +“I don’t wish to lose you.” Marjorie patted Jerry’s hand. Her brown eyes +rested a trifle wistfully on Constance. Marjorie knew, as did Jerry, +that Connie intended to go to New York to study grand opera as soon as +her high school life was over. + +“You are thinking of Connie.” Jerry’s eyes had followed Marjorie’s +glance. “She won’t be lost to us. Hamilton isn’t so very far from New +York. But what’s the use in worrying when we’ve some of this year left +yet and another year before us? One thing at a time is my motto.” + +“You are a philosopher, Jeremiah.” Marjorie brightened. “'One thing at a +time,'” she repeated. “That’s the right idea. When I go back to school +again, I’m going to try my hardest to make the rest of my junior year a +success. I can’t say much about my senior year. It’s still an +undiscovered territory. I’m just going to remember that it’s a soldier’s +first duty to go where he’s ordered and ask no questions. When I’m +ordered to my senior year, all I can do is salute the colors and forward +march!” + +“Lead on and we’ll follow,” asserted Jerry Macy gallantly. “I guess we +can hike along and leave a few landmarks on that precious senior +territory. When I come into senior estate I shall use nothing but the +most elegant English. As I am still a junior I can still say, +'Geraldine, Jerry, Jeremiah, you’ve got to beat it. It’s almost five +o’clock.'” + +Left together, after Jerry had made extravagantly ridiculous farewells, +Constance seated herself beside Marjorie’s bed. “Are you tired, +Lieutenant?” was her solicitous question. + +“Not a bit. I’m going to make Captain let me go downstairs to-morrow. +It’s time I was up and doing again. I am away behind in my lessons.” + +“You’ll catch up,” comforted Constance. Inwardly she was reflecting that +she doubted whether there were any situation with which Marjorie Dean +could not catch up. Her feet were set in ways of light that wandered +upward to the stars. Though to those who courted darkness it might +appear that she sometimes faltered, Constance knew that those same +steady feet would carry her unfalteringly through her senior year to the +wider life to come. + +How Marjorie explored her new senior territory and what landmarks she +left behind in passing will be told in “Marjorie Dean, High School +Senior.” + + THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Marjorie Dean, High School Junior, by +Pauline Lester + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR *** + +***** This file should be named 36823-0.txt or 36823-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/8/2/36823/ + +Produced by Roger Frank, Katherine Ward and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/36823-0.zip b/36823-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fbc7b3c --- /dev/null +++ b/36823-0.zip diff --git a/36823-8.txt b/36823-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7bc7021 --- /dev/null +++ b/36823-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6900 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Marjorie Dean, High School Junior, by Pauline Lester + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Marjorie Dean, High School Junior + +Author: Pauline Lester + +Release Date: July 23, 2011 [EBook #36823] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank, Katherine Ward and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Illustration: MARJORIE ENTERED HER MOTHER'S ROOM AND DROPPED +DISPIRITEDLY AT HER FEET.] + +- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - + + MARJORIE DEAN + + High School Junior + + By PAULINE LESTER + + AUTHOR OF + + "Marjorie Dean, High School Freshman" + "Marjorie Dean, High School Sophomore" + "Marjorie Dean, High School Senior" + + A. L. BURT COMPANY + + Publishers--New York + +- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - + + Copyright, 1917 + By A. L. Burt Company + + MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR + +- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - + MARJORIE DEAN, + HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR + + + + +CHAPTER I--MARJORIE DECLARES HERSELF + + +"Only to think, next week, at this time, I'll be saying good-bye to you, +Mary Raymond." Marjorie Dean's brown eyes rested very wistfully on the +sunny-haired girl beside her in the big porch swing. + +"You know now, just how dreadfully I felt two years ago when I had to +keep thinking about saying good-bye to you," returned Mary in the same +wistful intonation. "It was terrible. And after you had gone! Well--it +was a good deal worse. Oh, Marjorie, I wish I could live this last year +over again. If only----" + +Marjorie laid light fingers on Mary's lips. "You mustn't speak of some +things, Lieutenant," she said quickly. "If you do I won't listen. Forget +everything except the wonderful summer we've had together." + +Mary caught the soft little hand in both hers. "It _has_ been +wonderful," she agreed rather unsteadily. "I'll have the memory of it to +treasure when I'm away off in Colorado. I can't believe that I am really +going so far away from you. I hope I'll like the West. Next summer you +must come out there and visit me, Marjorie. By that time I'll be a +little bit at home in such a strange, new country." + +"I'd love to do that," responded Marjorie with an eagerness that merged +almost immediately again into regretful reflection. + +A sad little silence fell upon the two in the porch swing. Each young +heart was heavy with dread of the coming separation. This was the second +time in two years that the call to say farewell had sounded for Marjorie +Dean and Mary Raymond. + +Those who have followed Marjorie Dean through her freshman and sophomore +years at high school are already familiar with the details of Mary's and +Marjorie's first separation. In "Marjorie Dean, High School Freshman," +was recorded the story of the way in which Marjorie had come to leave +her chum at the beginning of their first year in Franklin High School, +in the city of B----, to take up her residence in the far-off town of +Sanford, there to become a freshman at Sanford High. In her new home she +had made many friends, chief among them Constance Stevens, to whom she +had been greatly drawn by reason of a strong resemblance between +Constance and Mary. In an earnest endeavor to bring sunshine to the +former's poverty-stricken lot she had thereby involved herself in a +series of school-girl difficulties, which followed her throughout the +year. True to herself, Marjorie met them bravely and conquered them, one +by one, proving herself a staunch follower of the high code of honor she +had adopted for her own. + +With the advent of Mary Raymond into her home for a year's stay, +Marjorie was confronted by a new and painful problem. "Marjorie Dean, +High School Sophomore," found Marjorie enmeshed in the tangled web which +Mary's jealousy of Constance Stevens wove about the three girls. Led +into bitter doubt of Marjorie by Mignon La Salle, a mischief-making +French girl who had made Marjorie's freshman days miserable, Mary +Raymond had been guilty of a disloyalty, which had come near to +estranging the two girls forever. It was not until their sophomore year +was almost over that an awakening had come to Mary, and with it an +earnest repentance, which led to equity and peace. + +It was to this which Mary had been about to refer mournfully when +Marjorie's gentle hand had sealed her repentant utterance. All that +summer the two girls had been earnestly engaged in trying to make up for +those lost days. Constance and Mary were now on the most friendly terms. +The three had spent an ideal month together at the seashore, with no +hateful shadow to darken the pleasure of that delightful outing. Later +Constance had left them to spend the remainder of her vacation with her +family in the mountains. The Deans had lingered in their seaside cottage +until the last of August. Now September had arrived, her hazy hints of +coming Autumn reminding the world at large that their summer playtime +was over. + +To Mary Raymond it was a pertinent reminder that her days under the +Deans' hospitable canopy were numbered. In fact, only seven of them +remained. On the next Friday morning she would say her last farewells to +speed away to Denver, Colorado, where, on her invalid mother's account, +the Raymonds were to make their home. So it is scarcely to be wondered +at that Marjorie and Mary were decidedly melancholy, as they sat hand in +hand, bravely trying to meet the trial which lay before them. + +"I wonder if Jerry will come home to-day." Marjorie rose from the swing +with an abruptness that set it to swaying gently. The weight of parting +had grown heavier during that brief silence and she was very near to +tears. + +"I don't know. Her letter said Thursday or Friday, didn't it?" Mary's +voice shook slightly. She, too, was on the verge of a breakdown. + +"Yes." Marjorie's back was toward Mary as she answered. She walked to +the end of the spacious veranda and gazed down the pebbled drive. Just +then she felt as though the sight of Geraldine Macy's round, +good-humored face would be most welcome. Slowly returning to where Mary +still sat, she said: "As this is Friday, Jerry will surely----" + +"Marjorie!" called a clear voice from within the house. "The telephone +is ringing." + +"Coming, Captain!" Marjorie quickened to sudden action. "I hope it's +Jerry," she flung over her shoulder as she ran to the open door. "Come +on, Mary." + +Mary needed no second invitation. By the time Marjorie had reached the +telephone, she was only a step behind her chum. + +"Hello! Yes, this is Marjorie. Oh, Jerry!" Marjorie gave a little squeal +of delight. "We were just talking of you. We wondered if you'd be home +to-day. Won't you come over now? You will? Well, then, hurry as fast as +ever you can. We're crazy to see you. Mary wants to talk to you. Just +say 'hello' to her and hang up the receiver." Marjorie cast a playful +glance at the girl beside her. "You can talk to her when you get here." + +Marjorie held the receiver toward Mary, who greeted Jerry in brief but +affectionate fashion and obediently hung up. "Always do as your superior +officer tells you," she commented with a smile. + +"That's pure sarcasm," retorted Marjorie gaily. "The question is, am I +your superior officer or are you mine? This business of both being +lieutenants has its drawbacks. We can never know just who's who." + +"I ought to be second lieutenant and you first," demurred Mary soberly. +"I didn't deserve to become a first with you last June after----" + +"Mary!" Marjorie cried out in distressed concern. Her brown eyes were +filled with tender reproach. "Aren't you ever going to forget?" + +"I can't." Mary turned her face half away, then the flood of sadness she +had been fighting back all afternoon overtook her. Stumbling to the +stairs she sat down on the lowest step, her face hidden in her hands, +her shoulders shaking. + +"Poor, dear Lieutenant." Her own eyes overflowing, Marjorie dropped down +beside Mary and wound her arms about the dejected figure. + +"This is a nice reception! I see I shall have to welcome myself. Why, +how are you, Geraldine? Boo, hoo! It's a wonder you wouldn't ring. You +never did have any manners. I don't see why you called, anyway. Boo, +hoo!" + +The first sound of a loud, cheerful voice brought the weepers to their +feet. A loud, anguished "Boo, hoo!" sent them into half tearful giggles. + +"That's more like it," approved the stout girl in the doorway, her round +face alive with kindly solicitude. "If I had sensitive feelings I might +think you were crying because you'd invited me to call. But I haven't. +Hal says I am the most unfeeling person he knows. He only says that when +his little sister can't see things the way he does." + +Jerry rattled off these pleasantries while in the midst of a rapturous +embrace, bestowed upon her plump person by two now broadly-smiling +mourners. + +"It's splendid to see you again, Jerry," caroled Marjorie, hugging her +friend with bearish enthusiasm. Mary echoed Marjorie's fervent greeting. + +"The mere sight of me is always inspiring," grinned Jerry, winding an +arm about each friend. "I hope you have both noticed by this time that I +am a great deal thinner than I was last June. I've lost two pounds. +Isn't that some lose?" + +"Perfectly remarkable," agreed Marjorie mischievously. "Come on out on +the veranda, Jerry. We have such a lot to talk about." + +Four determined, affectionate arms propelled Jerry to the wide, +vine-decked porch, established her in the big porch swing, and climbed +in beside her. + +"Now, tell me, children, why these weeps?" Jerry demanded practically, +still retaining her loving hold of her two friends. + +"They've been on the way all day," confessed Marjorie. "We've both tried +not to cry, but--somehow----" Her voice faltered. "You see, Jerry, this is +Mary's and my last week together. Mary's going away off to Colorado next +week." + +"You don't mean it?" Jerry sat up very straight, looking wide-eyed +concern. "You never said a thing about it in your letter. I mean +letters. I believe you did write me two." Jerry registered comical +accusation. + +"Don't remind me of my sins of omission," Marjorie laughed, flushing a +trifle. "I always mean to write, but somehow I never do. We didn't know +until the week before we came from the seashore that Mary would have to +go so soon. We thought it wouldn't be until November." Again her tones +quavered suspiciously. + +"I see." Jerry frowned to hide her own inclination to mourn. During the +brief time they were thrown together, after the reunion of Marjorie and +Mary, she had learned to know and love the real Mary Raymond. "I'm more +sorry than I can say. I thought we'd all be together for our junior year +at Sanford High." + +"Of course, I am anxious to be with mother and father," put in Mary +loyally, "but I hate to leave Sanford. There are lots of things I meant +to do this year that I didn't do last year." + +"But you can't be in two places at once," was Jerry's blunt consolation. +"Never mind, Mary, you can come back to visit us and we'll write you +lots of letters. Marjorie is such a splendid correspondent." Her +accompanying jolly chuckle robbed this last pertinent fling of offence. +"We'll write you all the news. That reminds me, I've some for you girls. +You'll never guess who stayed at the same hotel with us this summer. I +didn't write about it, because I wanted to have it to tell when I came +home." + +Mary cast a sidelong glance at the stout girl. There had been a faint +touch of disgust in Jerry's intonation. "Was it--Mignon?" she asked, half +hesitant. + +"Right you are. How did you guess it?" + +"Oh, I just wondered," was Mary's brief response. A tide of red had +risen to her white skin, called there by distressing memories. + +"Yes, it was our dear Mignon," continued Jerry briskly. "And she has a +friend, Rowena Farnham, who likewise stayed at our hotel. Believe me, +they were a well-matched pair. You see the La Salles usually go to +Severn Beach every summer, but they always stay at Cliff House. We +always go to the Sea Gull. That's the whole length of the beach from +their hotel. Imagine how pleased I was to see Mignon come parading down +to dinner one evening, after we'd been there about two weeks. I was so +disgusted that I wanted my father to pack up and move us over to Cliff +House. But he wouldn't, the hard-hearted person. + +"That is only part of my tale. The worst now comes trailing along. It's +about this Rowena Farnham. It seems that the Farnhams moved to Sanford +last June just after school closed and----" + +"Is this Rowena Farnham a very tall, pretty girl with perfectly gorgeous +auburn hair and big black eyes?" broke in Mary abruptly. + +"Yes. Where did you ever see her?" demanded Jerry. "Where was I that I +didn't?" + +"Oh, I saw her one day in the post-office with Mignon. It was after you +had gone away. I thought she must be a guest at the La Salles'." + +"You thought wrong. She lives in that big house with the immense grounds +just the other side of the La Salles' home. It's the one with that +terribly high, ornamental iron fence. I always used to call it the Jail. +It made me think of one. But that's not my news, either. This new girl +is going to be a sophomore at Sanford High. I'm sorry for poor old +Sanford High." + +"Why?" A curious note of alarm sprang into Marjorie's question. After +two stormy years at high school, she longed for uneventful peace. +Jerry's emphatic grumble came like a far-off roll of thunder, +prophesying storm. + +"Why?" Jerry warmed to her subject. "Because she is a terror. I can see +it in her eye. Just now she and Mignon are as chummy as can be. If they +stay chummy, look out for trouble. If they don't, look out for more +trouble." + +"Perhaps you may find this new girl quite different," suggested Mary +hopefully. "It's not fair to judge her by Mignon. Very likely she hasn't +any idea that--that----" She was thinking of how completely she had once +fallen under Mignon's spell. + +"That Mignon is Mignon, you mean," interrupted Jerry. "She ought to know +her after being with her all summer. I'll bet she does. That's just why +I think she's a trouble-maker. They always hang together, you know." + +Marjorie slipped from the swing and faced her friends with the air of +one who has suddenly arrived at a definite conclusion. For a moment she +stood regarding Jerry in silence, hands clasped behind her back. + +"There's just one thing about it, Jerry," she began firmly, "and that +is: I _will not_ have my junior year spoiled by Mignon La Salle or her +friends. Last year we tried to help Mignon and our plan didn't work. I +thought once that she had a better self, but now it would take a good +deal to make me believe it. She caused me a great deal of unnecessary +unhappiness and she almost made Constance lose her part in the operetta. +And little Charlie! I can't forgive her for the way she treated that +baby. This year I am going to go on with my school just as though I had +never known her. I hope I won't have to play on the same basket ball +team with her or against any team that she plays on. I've had enough of +Mignon La Salle. I'm going to steer clear of her." + + + + +CHAPTER II--ALL IN HONOR OF MARY + + +"Be sure not to pack your white lace dress, Lieutenant." Marjorie +delivered this reminder from the open doorway of the pretty blue room +which Mary had so long regarded as her own special nook. + +From a kneeling position before her trunk Mary Raymond turned her head, +her eyes two mournful blue stars. "It's over there," she returned, +nodding somberly toward the bed. "Everything else that had to be packed +is packed. I can put my dress in the last thing to-night. I'm so glad +Connie is home in time to see me off on my journey. I hope she and +Charlie will come over early this afternoon." + +"They will." The blithe assurance held a significance which Mary did not +catch. The shadow of the coming separation now hung more heavily upon +her. Marjorie's cheery reply caused her to wonder vaguely if her chum +would really miss her so very much. The next instant she put the thought +away from her as unworthy. Of course Marjorie would miss her. Still she +could scarcely be blamed if she did not. In spite of the long, happy +summer they had spent together, occasionally the past rose to torture +Mary. + +Packing her effects had been a severe trial. Everything she touched +called forth memories. There was the blue linen frock she had worn on +the morning of her first entrance into Sanford High School. The very +sight of it filled her with remorse. And the dress she had worn on +Christmas Day, when the merciful Flag of Truce had bade a halt to the +hostilities which her own unreasonable jealousy had created. More than +one tear had fallen on the various dainty articles of wearing apparel as +she consigned them to her trunk. She wished above all to be brave and +cheerful, even to the very moment of farewell, but she found it hard to +fight back the terrible feeling of oppression that clutched at her +heart. + +From her position in the doorway, Marjorie had watched Mary for a moment +or two before speaking. She had guessed that the work of packing would +be something of a dolorous labor, which Mary might prefer to perform +alone. At heart she, too, was sad, but in her mind lurked a pleasant +knowledge which for the present Mary did not share. It was this +particular bit of knowledge that made it difficult for her to keep a +sober face as she met Mary's doleful gaze. + +"I'm going to wear white, too," she said brightly. "Captain finished my +new lingerie frock yesterday. As long as you're through packing, why not +get dressed for dinner now? I'm going to, even if it is only three +o'clock. Then when Connie and Charlie come we can take a stroll down to +Sargent's. That is, if we care to." Again her lovely face threatened to +break forth into the smiles. + +"All right." Mary's acquiescence came rather listlessly. Rising from the +floor she began somewhat spiritless preparations toward making ready to +receive the expected guests. + +"I'm going to my house now to put on my costliest raiment." Flashing a +mischievous glance toward Mary, Marjorie disappeared from the doorway +and tripped down the hall. Once inside her "house," as she had +whimsically named her pink and white room, she executed a gleeful little +dance for her own benefit. "She doesn't suspect a thing," was her +jubilant comment. + +But while the two girls were engaged in arraying themselves to do honor +to Constance, a most peculiar state of affairs was in progress +downstairs. Through the wide flung hall door, one after another flitted +a mysterious procession of girls, moving with the noiseless tread of a +flock of ghosts. Their bright-eyed, smiling faces and gala attire, +however, marked them as being particularly human. One of the seven +specters bore a strong resemblance to Mary herself, and the diminutive +black-eyed sprite she led by the hand seemed on the verge of breaking +forth into an ecstatic flow of joyful sounds. + +Apparently, Mrs. Dean had also been suddenly bereft of speech. Only her +twinkling eyes and smiling lips gave sign of just how greatly welcome +were her silent guests. Ushering them into the living room she nodded +brightly, laid a warning finger to her lips and softly withdrew, pulling +together the silken portieres. A half-smothered giggle, to which no +self-respecting ghost would have stooped to give utterance, followed +her. Then profound stillness reigned within. + +"Are you ready, Mary?" A bewitching, brown-eyed vision in white pranced +in upon Mary as she was slowly adjusting the soft loops of her wide, +white ribbon sash. "Let me tie your sash." Marjorie's nimble fingers set +themselves to work. "There you are. You do look so perfectly sweet in +white. Now smile and say prettily, 'Thank you for them kind words, Miss +Marjorie.' That's what Delia always says when she dresses up and I tell +her how fine she looks." + +Marjorie's buoyant spirits were so irresistible as to bring the coveted +light into Mary's mournful eyes. "Forward, march! Here we go." Seizing +Mary gently by the shoulders she marched her down the hall to the +stairway. "Break ranks," she ordered. "The gallant regiment can't afford +to tumble downstairs." + +"Halt!" came the order, as Mary reached the lower hall a step ahead of +her commander. "We will now make an invasion on the living room. Two's +right, march!" + +Mary obediently marched. Of her own accord she came to an abrupt halt. +"Oh!" she gasped. Her amazed exclamation was drowned in a chorus of +gleeful shouts as seven very lively apparitions closed in around her. + +"Charlie never said a word!" shrieked a high, triumphant voice. "We +comed to see you. Hooray!" A small, joyful figure hurled itself straight +into Mary's arms. She stooped and hugged him close, her golden head bent +to the youngster's. Straightening, she glimpsed the affectionate circle +of girls through a mist of unbidden tears. "I'm so glad and so surprised +to see all of you," she faltered. "And you knew it all the time!" She +caught Marjorie's hand. + +"Of course I knew it. Now we are even. You gave me a surprise party +once, so I thought I'd return the compliment," laughed Marjorie. "I +could hardly keep it to myself, though. Every time I looked at you I +wanted to say, 'Cheer up, the best is yet to come.'" + +"It's a good thing it wasn't long coming," retorted Jerry Macy. "I never +knew how much I liked to talk until I had to keep still." + +"You must have slipped into the house like shadows," declared Mary +happily. Her sad expression had quite vanished with the unexpected honor +that had been done her. She felt that, after all, she held some small +place in the affections of Marjorie's intimate friends, and the cloud of +doubt that had obsessed her rolled away. + +"We did do that arriving stunt rather well," was Harriet Delaney's +complacent comment. "Of course, Susie giggled. We expected she would, +though. The rest of us were above reproach." + +"No wonder I giggled," defended Susan Atwell. "If you had been the last +one in line you'd have laughed, too. You girls looked as if you were +trying to walk on eggshells, and when Jerry crossed the room in about +three steps, it was too much for me." Susan's cheerful chuckle broke +forth anew and went the rounds. + +"Well, children, what is your pleasure?" inquired Marjorie. "Shall we +stay here, or sit on the veranda, or establish ourselves in the pagoda, +or what?" + +"The pagoda for mine," decided Jerry, "provided the rest of you are of +the same mind. We can sit in a circle and tell sad stories of the deaths +of kings, etc. All those in favor of this lively pastime please say +'Aye;' contrary, keep quiet." + +"Aye," came the willing response. + +"What for is 'Aye?'" calmly demanded Charlie Stevens of Mary, to whom he +had immediately attached himself. + +"Oh, it means that Charlie can go out with us to the summer house and +have a nice time, if he would like to," explained Mary. + +"Charlie don't want to," was the frank response. "Where's Delia?" Fond +recollections of frequent visits to the Dean kitchen, invariably +productive of toothsome gifts, lurked in the foreground. "Delia likes to +see me." + +"You mean you like to see Delia," laughed Constance. "But you know you +came to see Mrs. Dean and Marjorie and Mary," she reminded. + +"I've seen them. Now I have to see Delia." + +"Delia wins the day," smiled Mrs. Dean. "You are all jilted. Very well, +Charlie, you and I will pay our respects to Delia. Come on." She +stretched forth an inviting hand to the little boy, who accepted it +joyfully, and trotted off with her to invade good-natured Delia's +domain. + +"As long as our one cavalier has been lured away from us by Delia we +might as well try to console one another," laughed Marjorie. + +"He's growing terribly spoiled," apologized Constance. "My aunt adores +him and thinks he must have everything he asks for. He's a good little +boy, though, in spite of all the petting he gets." + +"He's a perfect darling," dimpled Susan Atwell. "He says such quaint, +funny things. Has he ever tried to run away since the night of the +operetta?" + +"No." Constance made brief reply. Her gaze wandered to Mary Raymond, who +was talking busily with Harriet Delaney and Esther Lind. The vision of a +fair-haired, blue-eyed girl, leading a small run-away up to the stage +door of the theatre rose before her. Next to Marjorie Dean, Mary ranked +second in her heart. Constance felt suddenly very humble in the +possession of two such wonderful friends. Life had been kinder to her +than she deserved was her grateful thought. + +Susan eyed her curiously. Although she was very fond of Constance, she +did not in the least understand her. Now she said rather timidly, "I +hope you didn't mind because I spoke of the operetta and Charlie's +running away, Connie?" + +Constance promptly came out of her day-dream. "You brought it all back +to me," she smiled. "I was just wondering what I'd ever done to deserve +such friends as I've made here in Sanford. I can't bear to think that +Mary won't be with us this year." + +Before Susan could reply, Jerry interrupted them with, "Come along, +girls. The sooner we get settled the longer we'll have to talk." + +It was a merry, light-hearted band that strolled out of the house and +across the lawn to the honeysuckle-draped pagoda, situated at the far +end of the velvety stretch of green. Mary and Marjorie brought up the +rear, their arms piled high with bright-hued cushions, and the guests +soon disposed themselves on the bench built circular fashion around the +pagoda, or sought the comfort of the several wicker chairs. + +Brought together again after more than two months' separation, a busy +wagging of tongues was in order, mingled with the ready laughter that +high-spirited youth alone knows. Everyone had something interesting to +tell of her vacation and rejoiced accordingly in the telling. Father +Time flew in his fleetest fashion, but no one of the group paid the +slightest attention to the fact. From vacation, the conversation +gradually drifted into school channels and a lively discussion of junior +plans ensued. + +"By the way, girls," remarked Jerry Macy with the careless assumption of +casualty which was her favorite method of procedure when about to retail +some amazing bit of news. "Did you know that Miss Archer almost decided +to resign her position at Sanford High for one in Chicago?" + +"Of course _we_ didn't know it, and _you_ know we didn't," laughed Susan +Atwell. "Whenever Jerry begins with 'By the way,' and tries to look +innocent you may know she has something startling to offer." + +"Where on earth do you pick up all your news, Jerry?" asked Constance +Stevens. "You always seem to know everything about everybody." + +"Oh, it just happens to come my way," grinned Jerry. "I heard about Miss +Archer from my father. He's just been elected to the Board of +Education." + +"She isn't really going to leave Sanford High, is she, Jerry?" An +anxious frown puckered Marjorie's smooth forehead. She hated to think of +high school without Miss Archer. + +"No. At first she thought she would, but afterward she decided that +she'd rather stay here. She told father that she had grown so fond of +the dear old school she couldn't bear to leave it. I'm certainly glad +she's not going to resign. If she did we might have kind, delightful +Miss Merton for a principal. Then--_good night_!" Jerry relapsed into +slang to emphasize her disgust of such a possibility. + +"I shouldn't like that," Marjorie remarked bluntly. "Still, I can't help +feeling a little bit sorry for Miss Merton. She shuts out all the +bright, pleasant things in life and just sticks to the disagreeable +ones. Sometimes I wonder if she was ever young or had ever been happy." + +"She's been a regular Siberian crab-apple ever since I can remember," +grumbled Jerry. "Why, when I was a kidlet in knee skirts she was the +terror of Sanford High. I guess she must have been crossed in love about +a hundred years ago." Jerry giggled a trifle wickedly. + +"She was," affirmed quiet Irma with a smile, "but not a hundred years +ago. I never knew it until this summer." + +"Here is something I don't seem to know about," satirized Jerry. "How +did that happen, I wonder?" + +"Don't keep us in suspense, Irma," implored Muriel Harding. "If Miss +Merton ever had a love affair it's your duty to tell us about it. I +can't imagine such an impossibility. Did it happen here in Sanford? How +did you come to hear of it?" + +A circle of eager faces were turned expectantly toward Irma. "My aunt, +whom I visited this summer, told me about it," she began. "She lived in +Sanford when she was a girl and knew Miss Merton then. They went to +school together. There were no high schools then; just an academy for +young men and women. Miss Merton was really a pretty girl. She had pink +cheeks and bright eyes and beautiful, heavy, dark hair. She had a +sister, too, who wasn't a bit pretty. + +"They were very quiet girls who hardly ever went to parties and never +paid much attention to the boys they knew in Sanford. When Miss Merton +was about eighteen and her sister twenty-one, a handsome young naval +officer came to visit some friends in Sanford on a furlough. He was +introduced to both sisters, and called on them two or three times. They +lived with their father in that little house on Sycamore Street where +Miss Merton still lives. The young ensign's furlough was nearly over +when he met them, so he didn't have much time to get well acquainted +with them. The night before he went away he asked Miss Merton if he +might write to her and she said 'Yes.'" + +"Some story," cut in Jerry. "And did he write?" + +"Don't interrupt me, Jeremiah," reproved Irma. "Yes, he wrote, but----" + +"Miss Merton never got the letter," supplemented the irrepressible +Jerry. "That's the way it always happens in books." + +"All right. You may tell the rest of it," teased Irma, her eyes +twinkling. + +"Someone please smother Jerry's head in a sofa cushion, so she can't +interrupt," pleaded Harriet. + +"Try it," challenged Jerry. "Excuse me, Irma. I solemnly promise to +behave like a clam. On with the miraculous, marvelous memoirs of +meritorious Miss Merton." + +"Where was I? Oh, yes. The young ensign wrote, as he thought, to Miss +Merton, but in some way he had confused the two sisters' first names. So +he wrote to Alice Merton, her sister, instead, thinking it was our Miss +Merton." + +"How awful! The very idea! What a dreadful mistake!" came from the +highly interested listeners. + +"The sister was delighted because she liked the ensign a lot and thought +he didn't care much about her. You can imagine how Miss Merton felt. She +never said a word to anyone then about his asking her if he might write. +She thought he had just been flirting with her when really he had fallen +in love with her. Then his ship went on a trip around the world, but he +kept on writing to the sister, and at last he asked her to marry him. So +they were engaged and he sent her a beautiful diamond ring. They planned +to be married when he received his next furlough. But when he came to +Sanford to claim his bride, he found that he had made a terrible +mistake." + +"What did he do then?" chorused half a dozen awed voices. + +"Oh, he made the best of it and married the sister," Irma replied with a +shrug. "I suppose he felt that he couldn't very well do anything else. +Perhaps he didn't have the courage to. But one day before his wedding he +went to the house and found Miss Merton alone. She had been crying and +he felt so sorry that he tried to find out what was the matter. Somehow +they came to an understanding, but it was too late. Three or four years +after that he was drowned during a storm at sea. Miss Merton never quite +got over it all, and it changed her disposition, I guess." + +"What a sad story." Constance Stevens' blue eyes were soft with +sympathy. + +"That makes Miss Merton seem like a different person, doesn't it?" +Marjorie thoughtfully knitted her brows. + +"I suppose that is why she acts as though she hated young people," +offered Mary. "We probably remind her of her cheated youth." + +"She should have been particular enough to let that stupid ensign know +that she was she," criticized practical Jerry. "I'm glad I haven't a +sister. There's no danger of any future aspirant for my hand and heart +getting me mixed with Hal." + +The sentimental shadow cast upon the group by Irma's romantic tale +disappeared in a gale of laughter. + +"Honestly, Jerry Macy, you haven't the least idea of romance," giggled +Susan. "Here Irma tells us a real love story and you spoil it all about +a minute afterward." + +"Can't help it," asserted Jerry stoutly. "I have to say what I think." + +"Oh, here come Captain and Charlie," cried Marjorie, sighting a gracious +figure in white descending the steps with Charlie in tow. "That means +dinner is about to be served, children. Our farewell feast to Lieutenant +Mary Raymond." + + + + +CHAPTER III--THE SHIELD OF VALOR + + +A chorus of ohs and ahs ascended as the guests filed into a dining room, +the decoration of which spelled Patriotism in large capitals. In honor +of the pretty soldier play to which she and Mary had so long clung, +Marjorie had decreed that the dinner should be a patriotic affair so far +as decorations went. The walls of the large, attractive room were +plentifully festooned with red, white and blue bunting. Flags were in +evidence everywhere. From the center of the large oak table a large doll +dressed as Uncle Sam held gallantly aloft the tri-colored ribbons that +extended to each place. On one side of him stood a smaller doll dressed +in the khaki uniform of the United States soldier. On the other, a +valiant Jackie stood guard. At each cover was a small soldier doll and +the place cards were tiny, folded, silk flags, each guest's name written +in one of the stripes of white uppermost. + +Mary occupied the seat of honor at the head of the table, with Marjorie +at her right and Constance at her left. But at the departing +Lieutenant's place rose an amazing pile of tissue-paper wrapped, +beribboned bundles that smacked of Christmas. + +"Company, attention," called Mrs. Dean from the foot of the table, the +instant the party had seated themselves. "Lieutenant Raymond, you are +ordered to inspect your wealth before mess." + +"I--oh----" stammered the abashed Lieutenant, regarding said "wealth" in +stupefaction. "All those things are not really for _me_!" + +"Open them and see," directed Marjorie, her face radiant with unselfish +happiness. "Every one of them holds an original poetic message. None of +us knows what the other wrote. You are to read them in a loud voice and +satisfy our curiosity. Now hurry up and begin." + +Under a battery of smiling faces, Mary slowly undid a good-sized square +bundle. With slightly shaking fingers she drew forth a white box. When +opened it displayed several sizes of note paper and envelopes bearing +her monogram in silver. Picking up a card she steadied her voice and +read: + + "You say, of course, 'I'll surely write,' + But when you've traveled out of sight, + This nice white box may then remind you + Of Jerry Macy, far behind you." + +"I truly will write you, Jerry. Thank you." Mary beamed affectionately +on the stout girl. "It's a lovely present, and my own monogram, too." + +"See that you do," nodded Jerry gruffly. She loved to give, but she did +not relish being thanked. + +"Next," smilingly ordered Marjorie. "If you don't hurry and open them, +we shall all starve." + +The next package disclosed a dainty little leather combination purse and +vanity case from Muriel Harding with the succinct advice: + + "Don't lose your ticket or your money, + To be stone broke is far from funny. + When wicked cinders seek your eye, + Consult your mirror on the sly." + +After Muriel had been thanked and her practical, poetic advice lauded, +Mary went on with her delightful investigation. An oblong bundle turned +out to be a box of nut chocolates from Susan, who offered: + + "In time of homesick tribulation, + Turn to this toothsome consolation. + To eat it up will be amusin'---- + Here's sweet farewell from giggling Susan." + +"Giggling Susan's" effort brought forth a ripple of giggles from all +sides. + +"That's my present," squealed Charlie, as Mary fingered a tiny package +ornamented with a huge red bow. "It's a----" + +"Shh!" warned Constance, placing prompt fingers on the too-willing lips. + +Mary cast the child a tender glance as she glimpsed a tiny leather +violin case, partially obscured by a card. In this instance it was Uncle +John Roland who had played poet, after receiving Charlie's somewhat +garbled instructions regarding the sentiment. + +"Say it s'loud as you can," commanded the excited youngster. + +Mary complied, reading in a purposely loud tone that must have been +intensely gratifying to the diminutive giver: + + "Once when away from home I ranned + To play my fiddle in the band, + You comed and finded me, 'n then + I never ranned away again. + So now I'm always nice and good + An' do as Connie says I should, + And 'cause you're going to run away + You'd better write to me some day! + Inside the little fiddle box + There is a fountain pen that talks + On paper--it's for you from me, + The great musishun; your friend, C." + +As Mary read the last line she slipped from her place to Charlie and +kissed the gleeful, upturned face. "You darling boy," she quavered. +"Mary won't forget to write." + +"Mine's the best of all," observed Charlie with modest frankness, as he +enthusiastically returned the kiss. + +Back in her place again, Mary finished the affectionate inspection of +the tokens her friends had taken so much pleasure in giving. There was a +book from Harriet, a folded metal drinking cup in a leather case from +Esther Lind, a hand-embroidered pin and needle case from Irma, a pair of +soft, dark-blue leather slippers from Constance, and a wonderful +Japanese silk kimono from Mrs. Dean. The remembrances had all been +selected as first aids to Mary during her long journey across the +country. With each one went a humorous verse, composed with more or less +effort on the part of the givers. + +But one package now remained to be opened. Its diminutive size and shape +hinted that it might have come from the jeweler's. Mary knew it to be +Marjorie's farewell token to her. She would have liked to examine it in +private. She was almost sure that she was going to cry. She thrust back +the inclination, however, flashing a tender, wavering smile at her chum +as she untied the silver cord that bound the box. It bore the name of a +Sanford jeweler and when the lid was off revealed a round, gold +monogrammed locket, gleaming dully against its pale blue silk bed. In a +tiny circular groove of the box was a fine-grained gold chain. + +Mary's changeful face registered many emotions as she took the locket in +her hands and stared at it in silence. Acting on a swift, overwhelming +impulse she sprang mutely from her chair and rushed out of the room. +Marjorie half rose from her place, then sat down again. "Lieutenant will +come back soon," she said fondly. "She hasn't really deserted from the +army, she's only taken a tiny leave of absence. I remember just how I +felt when some of the boys and girls of Franklin High gave me a surprise +party. That was the night this came to me." She patted the butterfly pin +that had figured so prominently in her freshman year at Sanford. "I +almost cried like a baby. I remember that the whole table blurred while +Mary was making a speech to me about my beautiful pin." Marjorie talked +on with the kindly object of centering the guests' attention on herself +until Mary should return. + +Meanwhile, in the living room Mary Raymond was engaged in the double +task of trying to suppress her tears and open the locket at the same +time. Her eyes brimming, she worked at the refractory gold catch with +insistent fingers. Opened at last, she beheld Marjorie's lovely face +smiling out at her. On the inside of the upper half of the locket was +engraved, "Mary from Marjorie." Below was the beautiful Spanish phrase, +"_Para siempre_," literally translated, "for always," but meaning +"forever." + +Within a brief space of time, following her flight, the runaway +reappeared, her eyelids slightly pink. "I hope you will all pardon me," +she apologized prettily. "I--I--couldn't help it. You've been so sweet to +me. I can't ever thank you as you deserve to be thanked for giving me so +many lovely things; the very ones I shall need most when I'm traveling. +I am sure you must know how dear you all are to me; dearer even than my +Franklin High friends. I hope each one of you will write to me. I'll +truly try hard not only to be a good correspondent, but always to be +worthy of your friendship." + +Mary's earnest words met ready responses of good fellowship from those +whom she had once scorned. Everything was so different now. The new Mary +Raymond was an entire opposite to the sullen-faced young person who had +once flouted all overtures of friendship on the part of Marjorie's +particular cronies. Beyond an eloquent hand clasp and, "My picture +locket is wonderful, Lieutenant. Thank you over and over," Mary had +reserved further expression of her appreciation until the two chums +should be entirely by themselves. + +The delightful dinner ended with a general distribution of fancy cracker +bon-bons, which the guests snapped open with a will, to find cunning +caps representing the flags of various nations. They donned these with +alacrity and trooped into the living room for an evening of stunts in +which music played an important part. Constance lifted up her exquisite +voice untiringly, weaving her magic spell about her eager listeners. +Jerry sang a comic song, mostly off the key, merely to prove the +impossibility of her vocal powers. Charlie Stevens, who had trustfully +tugged his faithful fiddle along, insisted on rendering a solo of +anguishing shrieks and squawks, assuming the majestic mien of a +virtuoso. He took himself so seriously that no one dared laugh, although +the desire to do so was throttled with difficulty. Susan was prevailed +upon to perform a scarf dance, her one accomplishment, using a strip of +red, white and blue bunting with graceful effect. Harriet Delaney also +sang a ballad, and Esther Lind offered a beautiful Swedish folk song she +had learned from her father, who had sung it as a boy in far-off +Scandinavia. When the small repertoire of soloists had been exhausted, +everyone turned to with Constance at the piano, and made the living room +ring with school songs. + +Just before the farewell party broke up the door bell rang. Its loud, +insistent peal brought a significant exchange of glances, in which Mary +alone did not share. Mrs. Dean hurried into the hall. A moment and she +returned to the living room, escorting Delia, whose broad, homely face +was wreathed in smiles. She advanced toward Mary, holding out a goodly +sheaf of letters. "Special delivery, Miss Mary," she announced. "May yez +have many of the same." She made a little bobbing bow as Mary took them, +bestowed a friendly grin on the company and waddled out. + +"I don't understand." Mary seemed overcome by this fresh surprise. "Are +they all for me?" + +"They're your railway comforts, Lieutenant," laughed Marjorie. "There's +a letter from each of us. You can read one a day. There are enough to +reach to Denver and a few thrown in to cure the blues after you get +there. So you see we won't let you forget us." + +"It's the nicest reminder I could possibly have. I don't need a single +thing to make me remember you, though. You're all here in my heart to +stay as long as I live." Mary had never appeared more sweetly appealing +than she now looked, as her clear tones voiced her inner sentiments. + +"You're a nice girl," approved Charlie Stevens. "If I ever grow to be's +tall's you, Mary Raymond, I'll be married to you and you can play in the +band, too. Uncle John'll buy you a fiddle." + +This calm disposal of Mary's future drove sentiment to the winds. +Unconsciously, little Charlie had sounded a merry note just in time to +lift the pall which is always bound to hang over a company devoted to +the saying of farewells. + +At eleven o'clock Mary and Marjorie accompanied their guests to the +gate, the latter avowing their intention to be at the station the +following morning to see Mary off on her journey. The two girls strolled +back to the house, under the stars, their arms entwined about each +other's waists. + +"We had a beautiful evening, Lieutenant. How I wish General could have +been here. I hate to go away without saying good-bye to him," sighed +Mary. + +"I'm sorry, too. I wish he could always be at home. He has to be away +from Sanford and home so much." Marjorie echoed Mary's sigh. +Brightening, she said: "I've another dear surprise for you, though. Come +up to my house and I'll give it to you. It's his farewell message. He +wanted you to have it the very last thing to-night." + +"We are going upstairs, Captain," called Mary, as they passed through +the living room. "Want to come?" + +"Later," returned Mrs. Dean. She was too good a commander to intrude +upon the last precious moments of confidence her little army still had +left to them. + +Marjorie marched Mary to the pink and white window seat and playfully +ordered, "Sit down and fold your hands like a nice, obedient lieutenant. +Shut your eyes and don't open them until I say so." + +Tripping gleefully to the chiffonier she opened the top drawer, bringing +forth a small package and a square white envelope. Tucking them into +Mary's folded hands she said, "First you may open your eyes; then you +must open your presents. I haven't the least idea what's in the package +or what the letter says. General mailed them to me from Boston." + +Two pairs of eyes, bright with affectionate curiosity, bent themselves +eagerly on the little quaintly enameled box, which Mary hastily +unwrapped. "Oh!" was the concerted exclamation. On a white satin pad lay +an exquisitely dainty gold pin. It was in the form of a shield. Across +the top winked three small jewels set in a row, a ruby, a diamond and a +sapphire. + +"'Three cheers for the red, white and blue,'" sang Marjorie, dropping +down beside Mary and hugging her enthusiastically. "Do read the letter, +Lieutenant. We'll rave about this cunning pin afterward. Oh, I forgot. +Perhaps General didn't mean me to know what he wrote." + +"Of course he did," flung back Mary loyally. "We'll read it together." +Tearing open the envelope, she unfolded the letter and read aloud: + + "Beloved Lieutenant: + + "You are going away to a far country on a long hike, and, as it is + the duty of every good general to look to the welfare of his + soldiers, I am sending you the magic Shield of Valor to protect you + in time of need. It is a token of honor for a brave lieutenant who + fought a memorable battle and won the victory against heavy odds. It + is a magic shield, in that it offers protection only to the soldier + who has met and worsted the giant, Self. It was wrought from the + priceless metal of Golden Deeds and set with the eyes of Endurance, + Truth and Constancy. No enemy, however deadly, can prevail against + it. It is a talisman, the wearing of which must bring Honor and + Peace. + + "Dear little comrade, may happiness visit you in your new barracks. + Let the bugle call 'On duty' find you marching head up, colors + flying, until 'Taps' sounds at the close of each busy day. Though + you have answered the call to a new post, your general hopes with + all his heart that you will some day hurry back to your regiment in + Sanford to receive the sword of captaincy and the enthusiastic + welcome of your brother officers. May all good go with you. + + "Loyally, + "General Dean." + +Mary's voice trailed away into a silence that outrivaled mere speech. +The two girls sat staring at the jeweled token before them as though +fearing to break the spell their general's message had evoked. + +"Isn't it queer?" came from Mary, "I don't feel a bit like crying. When +all the nice things happened to me downstairs I wanted to cry. But this +letter and my wonderful Shield of Valor make me feel different; as +though I'd like to march out and conquer the world!" + +Marjorie's red lips curved into a tender smile as she took the pin from +the box and fastened it in the folds of lace where Mary's gown fell away +at the throat. "That's because it is a true talisman," she reminded +softly. "We never knew when long ago we played being soldiers just for +fun that we were only getting ready to be soldiers in earnest." + + + + +CHAPTER IV--THE NEW SECRETARY + + +"I'm ready to go to school, Captain!" Marjorie Dean popped her curly +head into the living room. "Is the note ready, too? It's simply dear in +you to give me a chance to call on Miss Archer." + +"Just a moment." Mrs. Dean hastily addressed an envelope and slipped +into it the note she had just finished writing. "I could mail it, I +suppose, but I thought you might like to play special messenger," she +observed, handing Marjorie the note. + +"It was a glorious thought," laughed Marjorie. "I wanted to see Miss +Archer yesterday, but I didn't like to go to her office on the very +first day without a good excuse. Do I look nice, Captain?" she inquired +archly. + +"You know you do, vain child." Mrs. Dean surveyed the dainty figure of +her daughter with pardonable pride. "That quaint flowered organdie frock +exactly suits you. Now salute your captain and hurry along. I don't care +to have you tardy on my account." + +Marjorie embraced her mother in her usual tempestuous fashion and went +skipping out of the house and down the stone walk with the joyous +abandon of a little girl. Once the gate had swung behind her she dropped +into a more decorous gait as she hurried along the wide, shady street +toward school. "Oh, goodness!" she murmured. When within two blocks of +the high school building she glimpsed the City Hall clock. Its huge, +black hands pointed to five minutes to nine. "I'll have to run for it," +was her dismayed reflection. "If I hurry, I can make it. I won't have +time to put my hat in my new junior locker, though." + +Decorum now discarded, Marjorie set off on a brisk run that brought her +into the locker room at precisely one minute to nine. Hastily depositing +her dainty rose-trimmed leghorn on a convenient window ledge, she ran up +the basement stairs to the study hall, gaining the seat assigned to her +the previous day just as the nine o'clock bell clanged forth its +warning. She smiled rather contemptuously as she noted the disapproving +glance Miss Merton flung in her direction. She had escaped a scolding by +virtue of a few brief seconds. + +"_She_ hasn't changed a bit," was Marjorie's inward judgment, as she +turned her gaze upon the rows of students; called together again to +continue their earnest march along the road of education. Her heart +thrilled with pride as she noted how few vacant seats the great study +hall held. The freshman class was unusually large. She noticed there +were a number of girls she had never before seen. It looked, too, as +though none of last year's freshmen had dropped out of school. As for +the juniors, they were all present, even to Mignon La Salle. But how +decidedly grown-up the French girl looked! Her black curls were arranged +in an ultra-fashionable knot at the back of her head that made her +appear several years older than she really was. Her gown, too, an +elaborate affair of sage green pongee, with wide bands of heavy +insertion, added to her years. She looked very little like a school girl +Marjorie thought. + +Lost in contemplation of the new Mignon, she was rudely reminded of the +fact that she was staring by Mignon herself. Their eyes meeting, Mignon +made a face at Marjorie by way of expressing her candid opinion of the +girl she disliked. Marjorie colored and hastily looked away, amused +rather than angry at this display of childishness. It hardly accorded +with her grown-up air. She had not realized that she had been guilty of +staring. Her mind was intent on trying to recall something she had heard +in connection with the French girl that now eluded her memory. Shrugging +her shoulders she dismissed it as a matter of small consequence. + +As the members of the four classes were still vacillating between which +subjects to take up and which to exclude from their programs of study, +classes that morning were to mean a mere business of assembling in the +various recitation rooms, there to receive the first instructions from +the special teachers before settling down to the usual routine of +lessons. + +For her junior program, Marjorie had decided upon third year French, +English Literature, Csar's Commentaries and civil government. As she +had recently begun piano lessons, she had wisely concluded that, with +piano practice, four subjects would keep her sufficiently busy. Her +interest in music had developed as a result of her association with +Constance Stevens. She yearned to be able some day to accompany +Constance's beautiful voice on the piano. Mrs. Dean had long deplored +the fact that Marjorie was not interested in becoming at least a fair +pianist. Herself a musician of considerable skill, she believed it a +necessary accomplishment for girls and was delighted when Marjorie had +announced that she wished to begin lessons on the piano. + +By reciting English literature during the first period of the morning +and French the second, the last period before noon was hers for study. +Civil government and Csar recitations the first two periods of the +afternoon left her the last hour of that session free. She had always +tried to arrange her subjects to gain that coveted afternoon period, and +now she felt especially pleased at being able to also reserve the last +period of the morning for study. + +It was while she sat in her old place in French class, listening to the +obsequiously polite adjurations of Professor Fontaine, that she +remembered the still undelivered note from her mother to Miss Archer. +"I'm a faithless messenger," was her rueful thought. "I'll hurry to Miss +Archer's office with Captain's note the minute class is over." +Contritely patting a fold of her lace-trimmed blouse where she had +tucked the letter for safe-keeping, Marjorie gave strict attention to +the earnestly-exhorting instructor. + +"Eet ees een thees class that we shall read the great works of the +incomparable French awthors," he announced with an impressive roll of +r's. "Eet ees of a truth necessary that you should become familiar weeth +them. You moost, therefore, stoody your lessons and be thus always +preepaired. Eet ees sad when my pupeels come to me with so many fleemsy +excuses. Thees year I shall nevaire accept them. I most eenseest that +you preepaire each day the lesson for the next." + +Marjorie smiled to herself. The long-suffering professor was forever +preaching a preparedness, which it never fell to his lot to see +diligently practised by the majority of his pupils. Personally, she +could not be classed among the guilty. Her love of the musical language +kept her interest in it unflagging, thereby making her one of the +professor's most dependable props. + +The recitation over, she paused to greet the odd little man, who +received her with delight, warmly shaking her hand. "Eet ees a grand +plaisir thus to see you again, Mees Marjorie," he declared. "Ah, I am +assured that you at least weel nevaire say 'oonpreepaired.'" + +"I'll try not to. I'm ever so glad to see you, too, Professor Fontaine." +After a brief exchange of pleasantries she left the class room a trifle +hurriedly and set off to call on Miss Archer. + +Entering the spacious living-room office, she was forcibly reminded that +Marcia Arnold's high school days had ended on the previous June. The +pretty room was quite deserted. Marjorie sighed as she glanced toward +the vacant chair, drawn under the closed desk that had been Marcia's. +How much she would miss her old friend. Since that day long past on +which they had come to an understanding, she and Marcia had found much +in common. Marjorie sighed regretfully, wondering who Miss Archer's next +secretary would be. + +As there was no one about to announce her, she walked slowly toward the +half-closed door of the inner office. Pausing just outside, she peeped +in. Her eyes widened with surprise as she caught sight of an unfamiliar +figure. A tall, very attractive young woman stood before the principal's +desk, busily engaged in the perusal of a printed sheet of paper which +she held in her hand. It looked as though Miss Archer had already +secured someone in Marcia's place. + +"May I come in, please?" Marjorie asked sweetly, halting in the doorway. + +The girl at the desk uttered a faint exclamation. The paper she held +fluttered to the desk. A wave of color dyed her exquisitely tinted skin +as she turned a pair of large, startled, black eyes upon the intruder. +For a second the two girls eyed each other steadily. Marjorie conceived +a curious impression that she had seen this stranger before, yet it was +too vague to convey to her the slightest knowledge of the other's +identity. + +"You are Miss Archer's new secretary, are you not?" she asked frankly. +"You can tell me, perhaps, where to find her. I have a note to deliver +to her personally." + +A quick shade of relief crossed the other girl's suddenly flushing face. +Smiling in self-possessed fashion, she said, "Miss Archer will not be +back directly. I cannot tell you when she will return." + +"I think I'll wait here for her," decided Marjorie. "I have no +recitation this period." + +The stranger's arched brows arched themselves a trifle higher. "As you +please," she returned indifferently. She again turned her attention to +the papers on the desk. + +Seating herself on the wide oak bench, Marjorie took speculative stock +of the new secretary. "What a stunning girl," was her mental opinion. +"She's dressed rather too well for a secretary, though," flashed across +her as she noted the smart gown of white china silk, the very cut of +which pointed to the work of a high-priced modiste. "I suppose she's +getting examination papers ready for the new pupils. I wonder why she +doesn't sit down." + +As she thus continued to cogitate regarding the stranger, the girl +frowned deeply at another paper she had picked up and swung suddenly +about. "Are you just entering high school?" she asked with direct +abruptness. + +"Oh, no." Marjorie smilingly shook her head. "I am a junior." + +"Are you?" The stranger again lost herself in puzzled contemplation of +the paper. Hearing an approaching footfall she made a quick move toward +the center of the office, raising her eyes sharply to greet a girl who +had come in quest of Miss Archer. Promptly disposing of the seeker, she +returned to her task. Several times after that she was interrupted by +the entrance of various students, whom she received coolly and dismissed +with, "Not here. I don't know when Miss Archer will return." Marjorie +noted idly that with every fresh arrival, the young woman continued to +move well away from the desk. + +Marjorie watched her in fascination. She was undoubtedly beautiful in a +strangely bold fashion, but apparently very cold and self-centered. She +had received the students who had entered the office with a brusqueness +that bordered on discourtesy. Two or three of them, whom Marjorie knew, +had greeted her in friendly fashion, at the same time mutely questioning +with uplifted brows as to whom this stranger might be. + +"This problem in quadratic equations is a terror," the girl at the desk +suddenly remarked, her finger pointing to a row of algebraic symbols on +the paper she was still clutching. "Algebra's awfully hard, isn't it?" + +"I always liked it," returned Marjorie, glad of a chance to break the +silence. "What is the problem?" + +"Come here," ordered the other girl. "I don't call _that_ an easy +problem. Do you?" + +Marjorie rose and approached the desk. The stranger handed her the +paper, indexing the vexatious problem. + +"Oh, that's not so very hard," was Marjorie's light response. + +"Can you work it out?" came the short inquiry, a note of suppressed +eagerness in the questioner's voice. + +"Why, I suppose so. Can't you?" + +"I was trying it before you came in just for fun. I've forgotten my +algebra, I guess. I don't believe I got the right result. It's rather +good practice to review, isn't it?" + +"She must be a senior," sprang to Marjorie's mind. Aloud, she agreed +that it was. "I ought not to have forgotten my algebra," she added. +"It's only a year since I finished it." + +"See if you think I did this right, will you? I'm curious to know." The +stranger thrust into her hand a second paper, covered with figures. + +Marjorie inspected it, feeling only mildly interested. "No; you made a +mistake here. It goes this way. Have you a pencil?" + +The pencil promptly forthcoming, the obliging junior seated herself at a +nearby table and diligently went to work. So busy was she that she +failed to note the covert glances which her companion sent now and then +toward the door. But, during the brief space of time in which Marjorie +was engaged with the difficult equation, no one came. Altogether she had +not been in the office longer than fifteen minutes. To her it seemed at +least half an hour. + +"Here you are." She tendered the finished work to the other girl, who +seized it eagerly with a brief, "Thank you. I can see where I made my +mistake when I have time to compare the two." With a smile, which +Marjorie thought a trifle patronizing, she carelessly nodded her +gratitude. Laying the printed examination sheet on a pile of similar +papers, she placed a weight upon them and walked gracefully from the +office, taking with her the two sheets of paper, bearing the results of +her own and Marjorie's labor. + +Another fifteen minutes went by. Still no one came, except a student or +two in quest of Miss Archer. Marjorie decided that she would wait no +longer. She would come back again that afternoon, before the second +session opened. It was almost noon. Were she to return to the study hall +just then, it meant to court the caustic rebuke of Miss Merton. The +locker room offered her a temporary refuge. Accordingly, she wended her +steps toward it. + +"Where were you that last period?" demanded Jerry Macy, coming up behind +her as she stood at the mirror adjusting her rose-weighted hat. + +"Oh, Jerry! How you startled me." Marjorie swung about. "I was up in +Miss Archer's office." + +"So soon?" teased Jerry, putting on a shocked expression. "I _am_ +surprised." + +"Don't be so suspicious," responded Marjorie, adopting Jerry's bantering +tone. "I had a note, if you please, from Captain, to deliver to Miss +Archer. I saw the new secretary, too." + +"Humph!" ejaculated Jerry. "You must have only thought you saw her. So +far as I know Miss Archer hasn't secured a secretary yet." + +"But she must have," Marjorie insisted. "There was a tall girl in her +office when I went there. She must surely be the girl to take Marcia's +place, for she was standing at Miss Archer's desk, going over some +papers." + +"That's funny. What did she look like? You said she was tall?" + +"Yes; tall and very pretty. She had big, black eyes and perfectly +gorgeous auburn hair----" Marjorie broke off with a puzzled frown. Her own +words had a curious reminiscent ring. Someone else had said the very +same thing about----Who had said it, and about whom had it been said? + +"Now I know you didn't see Miss Archer's new secretary," cried Jerry in +triumph. "There's only one person that can answer to your description. +She's that Rowena Farnham I told you about, Mignon's side partner. I +told you she was going to enter the sophomore class. She was probably +waiting for Miss Archer herself. She has to try her exams, I suppose." + +"But what was she doing at Miss Archer's desk?" asked Marjorie sharply. +"Why did she answer me and make me think she was the secretary? She told +several other girls that Miss Archer was out!" + +"Search me," replied Jerry inelegantly. "If she's much like Mignon it's +hard to tell what she was up to. Believe me, they're a precious pair of +trouble-makers and don't you forget it." + +"I ought to have recognized her," faltered Marjorie. A curious sense of +dread had stolen over her. "Don't you remember Mary described her almost +as I did just now, that day you came to see us, when first you got back +to Sanford?" + +"Well, nobody's going to kill you because you didn't, are they?" +inquired Jerry with a grin. "What's the matter? What makes you look so +solemn?" + +"Oh, I was just wondering," evaded Marjorie. Outwardly only slightly +ruffled, tumult raged within. She had begun to see clearly what had +hitherto been obscure and the revelation was a severe shock. All she +could hope was that what she now strongly suspected might not, after +all, be true. + + + + +CHAPTER V--A STORMY INTERVIEW + + +Marjorie returned to school that afternoon in a most perturbed state of +mind, occasioned by Jerry Macy's identification of Rowena Farnham as the +girl whom she had assisted in the working out of the problem in +quadratic equations. She was now almost certain that she had unwittingly +assisted in a most dishonest enterprise. If the papers on Miss Archer's +desk comprised the trial examination to sophomore estate, then Rowena +had no doubt been guilty of tampering with what should concern her only +at the moment when the test began. If they were the sophomore +examination papers, why had Miss Archer left them thus exposed on her +desk? And now what was she, Marjorie, to do about it? She felt that when +she delivered her mother's note to Miss Archer, she ought to inform the +principal of what had occurred during her absence. Yet she hated to do +this. It was tale bearing. Besides, her suspicions might prove +unfounded. + +She was still juggling the trying situation when she entered Miss +Archer's office to deliver her captain's note. Should she speak of it or +not? The fact that Miss Archer was now accessible but extremely busy, +with several girls occupying the office benches, caused her to put off +her decision for a time. She stopped only long enough to receive a +kindly welcome from the principal and to perform her mission as +messenger. Then she went dejectedly to her recitation in civil +government, wondering resentfully if the event of the morning was the +beginning of an unpleasant year. + +By a determined effort of will, Marjorie put the whole thing aside to +attend strictly to her recitations. But during the study hour that +preceded dismissal for the day, a way of settling the difficulty +presented itself to her. It was not an agreeable way, but her +straightforward soul welcomed it as a means toward settlement. She was +resolved to seek Rowena Farnham and learn the truth. The question of +where to find her was next to be considered. She had not yet made an +appearance into the study hall. Doubtless she was in the little +recitation room on the second floor that was seldom used except in the +case of pupils with special examinations to try. Marjorie mused darkly +as to whether the problem she had obligingly solved would figure in +Rowena's algebra paper. + +Half-past three saw Marjorie on her way to the locker room, keeping a +sharp lookout for a tall figure crowned with luxuriant auburn hair. Her +vigilance met with no reward, however, and she left the school building +in company with Irma, Jerry, Constance and Susan, deliberating as to +what she had best do next. Outside the high school she caught no glimpse +of her quarry among the throng of girls that came trooping down the wide +stone steps. Although she took part in her friends' animated +conversation, she was steadily thinking of the self-imposed task that +lay before her. + +"Let's go down to Sargent's," proposed Susan, gleefully jingling a +handful of silver that clinked of sundaes and divers delicious cheer. + +"You girls go. I can't. I've an errand to do." Marjorie's color rose as +she spoke. + +"Do your errand some other time," coaxed Susan. "I may not have any +money to spend to-morrow." + +"I'll treat to-morrow," Marjorie assured her. "I can't possibly put off +my errand. You can imagine I'm with you. Always cultivate your +imagination." + +Four voices rose to protest her decision, but she remained firm. +"To-morrow," she compromised. "Please don't tease me. I can't really go +with you to-day." + +"We'll try to get along without you, just this once," agreed tactful +Constance. Something in Marjorie's manner told her that her friend +wished to go on her way alone. + +"Go ahead then, Marjorie. Do your errand, faithful child," consented +Jerry, who had also scented the unusual and shrewdly speculated as to +whether it had anything to do with their conversation of the morning. + +Anxious, yet regretful, to be free of her chums, Marjorie said good-bye +and hurried off in an opposite direction. Jerry had said that the +Farnhams lived in the beautiful residence that adjoined Mignon La +Salle's home. It was not a long walk, yet how Marjorie dreaded it. Given +that Rowena were at home, Mignon would, perhaps, be with her. That would +make matters doubly hard. Yet she could do no less than carry out the +interview she felt must take place at the earliest possible moment. + +It was a very grave little girl who opened the ornamental iron gate and +proceeded reluctantly up the long driveway to the huge brown stone +house, set in the midst of a wide expanse of tree-dotted lawn. For all +the residence was a magnificent affair, Marjorie shivered as she mounted +the massive stone steps. There was little of the atmosphere of home +about it. + +"Is Miss Rowena Farnham here?" was her low-voiced question of the +white-capped maid who answered the door. + +"She hasn't come home from school yet, miss," informed the maid. "Will +you step into the house and wait for her?" + +"Yes, thank you." Marjorie followed the woman into a high-ceilinged, +beautifully appointed, square hall and across it to a mammoth +drawing-room, very handsomely furnished, but cheerless, nevertheless. +She felt very small and insignificant as she settled herself lightly on +an ornate gilt chair, to await the arrival of Rowena. + +Her vigil was destined to be tedious, unbroken by the sight of anyone +save the maid, who passed through the hall once or twice on her way to +answer the bell. Even she did not trouble herself to glance through the +half-parted brocade portieres at the lonely little figure in the room +beyond. Consulting her wrist watch, Marjorie read five o'clock. She had +been waiting for over an hour. She guessed that the girl on whom she had +come to call must be with Mignon La Salle. There was at least a grain of +comfort for her in this conjecture. If Mignon were at home now, there +was small chance that she would be present at the interview. + +An impatient hand on the bell sent a shrill, reverberating peal through +the great house. An instant and she heard the maid's voice, carefully +lowered. There came the sound of quick, questioning tones, which she +recognized. Rowena had at last put in an appearance. Immediately there +followed a flinging back of the concealing portieres and the girl who +had sprung into Marjorie's knowledge so unbecomingly that morning walked +into the room. + +"You wished to see----Oh, it's you!" The tall girl's black eyes swept her +uninvited guest with an expression far from cordial. + +"Yes, it is I," Marjorie's inflection was faintly satirical. "I made a +mistake about you this morning. I thought you were Miss Archer's new +secretary." She lost no time in going directly to the point. + +For answer Rowena threw back her auburn head and laughed loudly. "I +fooled you nicely, didn't I?" According to outward signs her conscience +was apparently untroubled. + +"Yes," returned Marjorie quietly. "Why did you do it?" + +Rowena's laughing lips instantly took on a belligerent curve. The very +evenness of the inquiry warned her that trouble was brewing for her. +"See here," she began rudely, "what did you come to my house for? I'm +not pleased to see you. Judging from several things I've heard, I don't +care to know you." + +Marjorie paled at the rebuff. She had half expected it, yet now that it +had come she did not relish it. At first meeting she had been irritated +by the other girl's almost rude indifference. Now she had dropped all +semblance of courtesy. + +"I hardly think it matters about your knowing or not knowing me," she +retorted in the same carefully schooled tone. "You, of course, are the +one to decide that. What does matter is this--I must ask you to tell me +exactly why you wished me to work out that quadratic problem for you. It +is quite necessary that I should know." + +"Why is it so necessary?" + +"Because I must believe one of two things," was Marjorie's grave +response. "I must have the truth. I won't be kept in the dark about it. +Either you only pretended to play secretary as a rather peculiar joke, +or else you did it purposely because----" She hesitated, half ashamed to +accuse the other of dishonesty. + +"What will you do if I say I did it on purpose?" tantalized Rowena. "Go +to your Miss Archer, I suppose, with a great tale about me. I understand +that is one of your little pastimes. Now listen to me, and remember what +I say. You think I was prying into those examination papers, don't you?" + +"I'd rather not think so." Marjorie raised an honest, appealing glance +to meet the mocking gleam of Rowena's black eyes. + +"Who cares what _you_ think? You are a goody-goody, and I never saw one +yet that I'd walk across the street with. Whatever I want, I always get. +Remember that, too. If your dear Miss Archer hadn't been called to +another part of the building, I might never have had a chance to read +over those examinations. She went away in a hurry and left me sitting in +the office. Naturally, as her desk was open, I took a look to see what +there was to see. I wasn't afraid of any subject but algebra. I'm n. g. +in that. So I was pretty lucky to get a chance to read over the +examination. I knew right away by the questions that it was the one I'd +have to try. + +"My father promised me a pearl necklace if I'd pass all my tests for the +sophomore class. Of course I wanted to win it. That quadratic problem +counted thirty credits. It meant that without it I'd stand no chance to +pass algebra. I couldn't do it, and I was in despair when you came into +the office. If you hadn't been so stupid as to take me for Miss Archer's +secretary and hadn't said you were a junior, I'd have let you alone. +That secretary idea wasn't bad, though. It sent those other girls about +their business. I thought _you_ could do that problem if _I_ couldn't. +It's a good thing you did. I copied it in examination this afternoon and +I know it's right," she ended triumphantly. + +Sheer amazement of the girl's bold confession rendered Marjorie silent. +Never in all her life had she met a girl like Rowena Farnham. Her calm +admittance to what Marjorie had suspected was unbelievable. And she +appeared to feel no shame for her dishonesty. She gloried in it. Finding +her voice at last, the astounded and dismayed interviewer said with +brave firmness: "I can't look at this so lightly, Miss Farnham. It +wasn't fair in you to deceive me into doing a thing like that." + +"What's done can't be undone," quoted Rowena, seemingly undisturbed by +the reproof. "You are as deep in the mud as I am in the mire. You helped +me, you know." + +"I will not be included in such dishonesty." Marjorie sprang angrily to +her feet and faced Rowena. "If Miss Archer knew this she would not +accept your algebra paper. She might not wish to accept you as a pupil, +either. I hoped when I came here this afternoon that everything would +turn out all right, after all. I hoped that paper might not be the +algebra test you were to have. I don't wish to tell Miss Archer, yet +it's not fair to either of us that you should masquerade under false +colors. You have put me in a very hard position." + +It was now Rowena who grew angry. During the interview she had remained +standing, looking down on the girl in the chair with amused contempt. +Marjorie's flash of resentment unleashed a temper that had ever been the +despair of Rowena's father and mother. Her dark eyes glowed like live +coals, her tall, slender body shook with fury. "If you dare go to Miss +Archer with what I've told you, I'll put you in a much harder position. +I'll make you lose every friend you have in school. I know all about +you. You've bullied and snubbed poor Mignon La Salle and made her lose +_her_ friends. But you can't bully or threaten or snub me. I didn't want +to come to Sanford to live. It's nothing but a little, silly country +town. I didn't want to go to your old school. My father and mother make +me go. My father doesn't believe in select boarding schools, so I have +to make the best of it. If I pass my examinations into the sophomore +class I'll make it my business to see that I get whatever I take a +notion to have. You can't stop me. I've always done as I pleased at home +and I'll do as I please in school. If you tell Miss Archer about this +morning, I'll see that you get more blame than I. Don't forget that, +either." + +Marjorie felt as though she had been caught in a pelting rain of +hail-stones. Yet the furious flow of vituperation which beat down upon +her did not in the least intimidate her. "I am not afraid of anything +you may do or say," she returned, a staunch little figure of dignified +scorn. "I came to see you in all good faith, willing to give you the +benefit of the doubt. Now that I understand exactly how you feel about +this affair, I won't trouble you further. Good afternoon." + +"Stop! What are you going to do?" called Rowena. Marjorie had already +passed into the hall. "You've got to tell me before you leave this +house." She darted after her steadily retreating caller, cheeks flaming. + +At the outer door, Marjorie paused briefly, her hand on the dead latch. +"I said 'good afternoon,'" was her sole response. Then she let herself +out and walked proudly away from the house of inhospitality, oblivious +to the torrent of hot words which the irate Rowena shrieked after her +from the veranda. + + + + +CHAPTER VI--A QUESTION OF SCHOOL-GIRL HONOR + + +"I've something to report, Captain." Marjorie entered her mother's room +and dropped dispiritedly at her feet. Unpinning her flower-decked hat, +she removed it with a jerk and let it slide to the floor. + +"Well, dear, what is it?" Mrs. Dean cast a half anxious look at her +daughter. The long strip of pink crochet work, destined to become part +of an afghan for Marjorie's "house" dropped from her hands. Reaching +down she gave the dejected curly head at her knee a reassuring pat. +"What has happened to spoil my little girl's second day at school?" + +Marjorie flashed an upward glance at her mother that spoke volumes. +"I've had a horrid time to-day," she answered. "Last year, when things +didn't go right, I kept some of them to myself. This year I'm going to +tell you everything." Her voice quivering with indignation at the +calamity that had overtaken her unawares, she related the disturbing +events that had so recently transpired. "I don't know what to do," she +ended. "Do you think I ought to go to Miss Archer and tell her +everything?" + +"That is a leading question, Lieutenant." Mrs. Dean continued a +sympathetic smoothing of Marjorie's curls. "It is one thing to confess +one's own faults; it is quite another to make public the faults of +someone else. It is hardly fair to Miss Archer to allow this girl to +profit by her own dishonesty. It is not fair to the girl herself. If she +is allowed to pursue, unchecked, a course which will eventually lead to +a great dishonesty, then you would be in a measure responsible. On the +other hand, I abhor a talebearer. I can't decide at once what you ought +to do. I shall have to think it over and give you my answer later. Your +rights must be considered also. You were an innocent party to a +despicable act, therefore I do not believe that you owe the author of it +any special loyalty. I am not sure but that I ought to go to Miss Archer +myself about it. You have suffered a good deal, since you began going to +Sanford High School, through Mignon La Salle. I do not propose that this +new girl shall spoil your junior year for you. Come to me to-morrow at +this time and I will have made up my mind what is best for you. I am +glad you told me this." + +"So am I," sighed Marjorie. "I know that whatever you decide will be +best for me, Captain. I am not afraid for myself. It's only that I hate +to make trouble for this girl, even though she deserves it. You see it +may mean a good deal to her father and mother to have her get along well +in school. She said her father wouldn't let her go away to boarding +school. That sounds as though he wanted her to be at home where he could +look after her." + +"That must also be considered," agreed Mrs. Dean. "Now don't worry about +this affair any more. I am sure we shall find the wisest way out of it +for everyone concerned. You had better run along now and get ready for +dinner. It's almost half past six." + +Marjorie reached for her discarded hat. Scrambling to her feet she +embraced her mother and went to her room, infinitely cheered. As she +left the room, Mrs. Dean sent after her a glance freighted with motherly +protection. She had no sympathy for a girl such as Marjorie had +described Rowena Farnham to be, and she uttered a mental prayer of +thankfulness that her own daughter was above reproach. + +No further mention of the affair was made between mother and daughter +that evening. Nevertheless, Marjorie went to school the next morning in +a far from buoyant mood. She had been wakened by a reverberating roll of +thunder, followed by the furious beating of rain against her windows. A +true child of sunshine, the steady tapping of the heavy drops filled her +with a dread sense of oppression which she could not shake off. + +By noon, however, it had passed away with the storm. When she went home +to luncheon the sun was high in the sky. The rain-washed streets were +rapidly succumbing to his warm smile. Only a puddle here and there, or a +shower of silver drops from a breeze-shaken tree remained to remind her +of the morning deluge. + +Returning from luncheon, she had hardly gained her seat when Miss Merton +stalked down the aisle to her desk. "Report to Miss Archer at once, Miss +Dean," she commanded in her most disagreeable manner. + +Marjorie's thoughts immediately flew to yesterday. Was it possible that +Rowena Farnham had gone to the principal of her own volition? It was +hardly to be credited. Remembering her mother's note, Marjorie jumped to +the conclusion that this was the most probable reason for the summons. + +"Good afternoon, Marjorie," greeted Miss Archer from her desk, as the +pretty junior appeared in the doorway. "Come here, my dear. I have +something rather unusual to show you." She motioned Marjorie to draw up +a chair beside her own. "I wonder if you can throw any light upon this." + +"This" was an open letter, which she now tendered to the puzzled girl. +Marjorie read: + + "Miss Archer: + + "Yesterday morning, at a little after eleven o'clock, Marjorie Dean + and a girl with red hair and black eyes, whose name I do not know, + meddled with the examination papers on your desk while you were in + another part of the building. Marjorie Dean showed the girl how to + do one of the examination problems in algebra. This I know because I + heard them talking about it and saw them have the list of questions. + Such dishonesty is a disgrace to Sanford High School. + + "The Observer." + +Marjorie allowed the letter to fall from her nerveless hands. She felt +herself grow hot and cold as she forced herself to meet Miss Archer's +intent scrutiny. Yet she said nothing. Only her brown eyes sent forth +agonized signals of distress. + +Noting her strange demeanor, Miss Archer's pleasant face hardened. Was +Marjorie Dean really guilty of such dishonor? If innocent, why did she +not hotly proclaim the fact? "I am waiting for you to explain the +meaning of this note, Marjorie," she reminded sternly. "Can you do so?" + +"Yes," came the low monosyllable. + +"Then do so at once," crisply ordered the principal. + +Marjorie drew a long breath. "I can't explain my part of it without +bringing in someone else," she faltered. + +"You mean Miss Farnham, I suppose?" + +Marjorie hesitated, then nodded. It appeared that Miss Archer had +already put two and two together. + +"I happen to know that Miss Farnham is the only one who could possibly +answer to the description this letter gives," continued Miss Archer +impatiently. "She was also the only one to be interested in the papers +on my desk. I sent for you first, however, because I wished to give you +a chance to explain how you happened to figure in this affair. I have +always had a great deal of faith in you, Marjorie. I do not wish to lose +that faith. Now I must insist on knowing exactly what occurred here +yesterday morning. Did you or did you not assist Miss Farnham in solving +a problem in algebra, which she culled from the examination paper in +that subject?" + +"Miss Archer," Marjorie said earnestly, "I did help Miss Farnham with +that problem, but I had no idea that she was trying to do anything so +dishonorable. It all came about through a mistake. I'd rather she would +explain that part of it. The reason I happened to be in this office was +because of the note my mother asked me to bring you. Miss Farnham was +here when I came in. While I sat waiting for you she asked me to help +her with that problem. I solved it for her and she took it and went +away. I waited a little longer, then left the office." + +Miss Archer's stern features gradually relaxed as Marjorie made this +straightforward account of her own actions. The principal noted, +however, that she had revealed considerably less regarding the other +girl. "That is a somewhat indefinite statement," she said slowly. "You +have not been frank as to Miss Farnham. You are keeping something back. +You must tell me all. I prefer to know the absolute facts from you +before sending for the other party to this affair." + +"Please don't ask me to tell you, Miss Archer," pleaded Marjorie. "I'd +rather not." + +Miss Archer frowned, This was not the first time that Marjorie had taken +such a stubborn stand. She knew the young girl's horror of telling +tales. Yet here was something that she deemed it necessary to uncover. +She did not relish being thus balked by a too rigid standard of +school-girl honor. It suddenly occurred to her to wonder how Marjorie +could have been so easily deceived. + +"Do you think this is fair to me?" she questioned sharply. "I feel that +I have behaved very fairly to you in thus far assuming that you are +innocent. There are gaps in your story which must be filled. I wish you, +not Miss Farnham, to supply them. Suppose I were to say, it is very +strange that you did not suspect this girl of trickery." + +"But I didn't, truly I didn't," sounded the half-tearful protest. + +"I am not actually saying that you suspected her. Tell me this, at +least. Did you know that the problem she asked you to solve for her was +from the examination sheet?" + +"I--she----" stammered the unfortunate junior. + +"You did know it, then!" exclaimed Miss Archer in pained suspicion. +"This places you in a bad light. If you knew the source of the problem +you can hardly claim innocence now unless you give me absolute proof of +it." + +"You have my word that I am not guilty." Her desire to cry vanished. +Marjorie now spoke with gentle dignity. "I try always to be truthful." + +Miss Archer surveyed the unobliging witness in vexed silence. At heart +she believed Marjorie to be innocent, but she was rapidly losing +patience. "Since you won't be frank with me, I shall interview Miss +Farnham as soon as she finishes her examinations of the morning. I shall +not allow her to go on with this afternoon's test until I have reached +the bottom of this affair. Come to my office as soon as you return from +luncheon. That is all." The principal made a dignified gesture of +dismissal. + +The beseeching glance poor Marjorie directed toward Miss Archer was lost +upon the now incensed woman. She had already begun to busy herself at +her desk. If she had glimpsed the reproach of those mournful eyes, it is +doubtful whether she would have been impressed by them. Secretly she was +wondering whether she had made the mistake of reposing too much +confidence in Marjorie Dean. + + + + +CHAPTER VII--FAITH AND UNFAITH + + +On reaching home that noon Marjorie's first impulse was to hurry to her +mother with a recital of the morning's events. Greatly to her dismay, +Delia met her at the door with the announcement that her mistress had +motored to a neighboring town to meet Mr. Dean, who had telegraphed her +from there. They would not arrive home in time for luncheon, probably +not until late in the afternoon. + +Divided between the pleasure of seeing her father and distress +occasioned by Miss Archer's implied disbelief, Marjorie ate a lonely and +most unsatisfactory luncheon. She could think of nothing other than the +impending session in which she and Rowena Farnham would so soon figure. +She pondered gloomily on the strange way in which the knowledge of +Rowena's unscrupulous behavior had been borne to Miss Archer. Who could +have written that letter? Could it be laid at the door of one of the +several girls who had inquired for the principal and promptly retired +from the scene? If this were so, then some one of them must have +lingered just outside to spy upon herself and Rowena. She knew the +majority of those who had sought the office while she lingered there. +Only one or two had been strangers. Of those she knew, she could recall +no one of them she would deem guilty of spying. + +As she left her home for the high school, Marjorie smiled in wry fashion +at the thought of Rowena's anger when she learned that her unfair +tactics had been discovered and reported. If she treated Miss Archer to +a scene similar to that which Marjorie had undergone in Rowena's home, +she was very likely to find herself out of high school before having +actually entered. As it was, Rowena stood a strong chance of forfeiting +the privilege to try the remainder of her examinations. + +Twenty minutes past one found Marjorie on the threshold of the +principal's office. At sight of her Miss Archer bowed distantly and went +on with her writing. As yet Rowena had not put in an appearance. Ten +minutes later she strolled nonchalantly in, her bold, black eyes +registering supreme contempt of the world in general. Her smart gown of +delft blue crpe set off her dazzlingly fair skin and heavy auburn hair +to perfection. She was a stunning young person, and well aware of her +good looks. + +"I understand you wish to see me," she drawled in a tone bordering on +impatience. Ignoring Marjorie, save for one swift, menacing glance, she +addressed herself to the woman at the desk. + +Miss Archer had already risen. Now she fixed the newcomer with stern, +searching eyes. "Sit over there, Miss Farnham." She waved her to a seat +beside Marjorie on the oak bench. + +With an insolent shrugging of her shoulders, Rowena sat down, placing +the length of the bench between herself and its other occupant. "Well, +what is it?" she asked unconcernedly. + +Miss Archer's lips compressed themselves a trifle more firmly. "Your +manner is distinctly disrespectful, Miss Farnham. Kindly remember to +whom you are speaking." + +Rowena's shoulders again went into eloquent play. "Oh, excuse me," she +murmured. + +Ignoring the discourtesy, Miss Archer reached to her desk for the +letter, the contents of which Marjorie already knew. Handing it to +Rowena she said: "Read this letter. You will then understand why I sent +for you." + +Looking distinctly bored, the girl perused the letter. A tantalizing +smile curved her red lips as she finished. "This is your work," she +accused, turning to Marjorie. + +The latter opened her brown eyes in genuine amazement. The accusation +was totally unexpected. "You know very well it is not," she flung back, +the pink in her cheeks deepening. + +"Whatever you have to say, Miss Farnham, you may say to me," reproved +the principal. "I have already gone over the contents of this letter +with Miss Dean." + +"I have nothing to say," replied Rowena serenely. + +"But _I_ have several things to say to you," reminded Miss Archer +sharply. "I demand a complete explanation of what occurred here during +my absence yesterday morning." + +"I am afraid you've come to the wrong person, then." Rowena was coolly +defiant. "Miss Dean can answer your question better than I. No doubt she +has already said a number of pleasant things about me." + +"Miss Dean has said nothing to your discredit. In fact she has refused +to commit herself. She prefers that you do the explaining." +Unconsciously Miss Archer sprang into irritated defense of Marjorie. + +Rowena's black eyebrows lifted themselves. So the goody-goody had +refused to betray her! This was decidedly interesting. Her clever brain +at once leaped to the conclusion that with Marjorie's lips sealed it +would be hard to establish her own dishonesty. In itself the letter +offered no actual proof. It was merely signed "The Observer." A cunning +expression crept into her eyes. "Someone must have been trying to play a +joke," she now airily suggested. "The very fact that the letter isn't +properly signed goes to prove that." + +"_Miss Farnham!_" The principal's authoritative utterance betrayed her +great displeasure. "You are overstepping all bounds. Miss Dean herself +has admitted that she solved an algebraic problem for you. I insist on +knowing whether or not that problem was taken from an examination sheet +that lay among others on my desk. If so, there is but one inference to +be drawn. During my absence you tampered with the papers on my desk. No +such thing has ever before occurred in the history of this school. Now I +ask you pointblank, did you or did you not meddle with my papers?" + +Without replying, Rowena's eyes roved shrewdly to Marjorie, as though +trying to discover what the latter intended to do. Were she to reply to +the question in the negative, would this baby of a girl, whom she +already despised, still maintain silence? + +Apparently, Marjorie read her thought. "Miss Farnham," she broke in, her +soft voice ringing with purpose, "if you do not answer Miss Archer +truthfully, I, at least, will." + +That settled it. Nevertheless, Rowena determined that Marjorie should +pay for her interference. "If you must know," she said sullenly, "I did +glance over them. You had no business to leave them on the desk. Miss +Dean saw me do it, too, but she didn't seem to mind. I even showed her +that problem in quadratics and told her I couldn't do it. So she did it +for me." + +"Is this true?" To the distressed listener Miss Archer's amazed question +came as a faint and far-off sound. Driven into a corner by Rowena's +spiteful misrepresentation, Marjorie determined to clear herself of the +opprobrium. "I saw Miss Farnham with the papers," she affirmed. "She +pointed out to me the one she couldn't do and I solved it for her. I +thought----" + +"That will do." Never to Marjorie's recollection had Miss Archer's voice +carried with it such unmeasured severity. For once she was too +thoroughly displeased to be just. Only that morning Marjorie had +earnestly proclaimed her innocence. Brought face to face with Rowena, +she had renigged, or so it now seemed to the affronted principal. +Abhoring deceit and untruthfulness, she rashly ticketed her hitherto +favorite pupil with both faults. + +"But Miss Archer," pleaded Marjorie desperately, "won't you allow me +to----" + +"It strikes me that too much has already been said that might better +have been left unsaid," cut in the principal coldly. "You two young +women are guilty of a most despicable bit of work. If it lay within my +power I would expel both of you from the school you have disgraced. This +matter will be taken up by the Board of Education. All I can do is to +send you both home, there to await the decision of those above me. Your +parents shall be informed at once of what has taken place. As for you, +Miss Farnham, in case the Board decides to give you another chance you +will be obliged to take an entirely new set of examinations. In a +measure I hold myself responsible for this. I should have locked my +desk. I have always trusted my pupils. Dishonesty on the part of two of +them is a severe blow. You may both leave the school at once. _You_, +Miss Dean, need not return to the study hall." + +Rowena Farnham received her dismissal with an elaborate shrug that +plainly indicated how little she cared. Without deigning a reply she +strolled out of the office, apparently as self-possessed as when she had +entered. Marjorie, however, remained rooted to the bench on which she +sat. She could not believe the evidence of her own ears. Neither could +she credit the principal's sudden unjust stand. + +"Miss Archer," she faltered, "won't you----" + +"The subject is closed, Miss Dean. Kindly leave my office." Miss Archer +refused to meet the two pleading eyes that persistently sought hers. +This self-revelation of the girl's guilt had dealt her a hurt which she +could not soon forget. To uncover treachery and dishonesty in a friend +is an experience which carries with it its own bitterness. The very fact +that it is unexpected makes it infinitely harder to bear. Miss Archer's +disappointment in Marjorie was so great as to obscure her usually clear +insight into matters. She had trusted her so implicitly. She felt as +though she could not endure her presence in the office. Now she kept her +gaze resolutely fixed on her desk, nor did she alter it until the echo +of the misjudged lieutenant's light footfalls had entirely died away. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII--FOR THE GOOD OF THE ARMY + + +Marjorie could never quite recall the details of that dreadful walk +home. Only once before in her short life had she been so utterly +crushed. That was on the day she had rushed from the little gray house, +believing that her beloved Constance was a thief. Now it came back to +her with force. Just as she had felt on that terrible afternoon, so must +Miss Archer be feeling now. Miss Archer thought that she, Marjorie Dean, +was unworthy to be a pupil of Sanford High. "If only Miss Archer had +listened to me," surged through her troubled brain as she walked the +seemingly endless road home. What would Captain and General say? + +Yet with this thought a gleam of daylight pierced the dark. Her Captain +already knew all. She knew her daughter to be innocent of wrongdoing. +General would believe in her, too. They would not see her thus disgraced +without a hearing. She would yet be able to prove to Miss Archer that +she was blameless of such dishonesty. + +"Well, well!" She had mounted the steps of her home when a cheery voice +thus called out to her. The next instant she was in her father's arms. +Delight in seeing him, coupled with all she had just undergone, broke +down the difficult composure she had managed to maintain while in Miss +Archer's presence. With a little sob, Marjorie threw herself into her +father's arms, pillowing her curly head against his comforting shoulder. + +"My dear child, what has happened?" Mrs. Dean regarded her daughter's +shaking shoulders with patient anxiety as she cried out the startled +question. + +"There, there, Lieutenant." Mr. Dean gathered the weeping girl close in +his protecting arms. "Surely you aren't crying because your worthy +general has come home?" + +"No-o-o," came the muffled protest. "I'm--glad. It's--not--that. +I've--been--suspended--from--school." + +"What!" Mr. Dean raised the weeper's head from his shoulders and gazed +deep into the overflowing brown eyes. + +"It's true," gulped Marjorie. "I'm not--to--blame--though. It's +all--a--misunderstanding." + +"Then we'll straighten it out," soothed Mr. Dean. "Come, now. You and +Captain and I will go into the living room and sit right down on the +nice comfy davenport. Then you can wail your troubles into our +sympathetic ears. Your superior officers will stand by you. You take one +arm, Captain, and I'll take the other." + +Resigning herself to the guidance of those who loved her best, Marjorie +suffered herself to be led into the living room and deposited on the +friendly davenport, a solicitous parent on either side. + +"You're wonderful, both of you," she sighed, possessing herself of a +hand of each. Her brief gust of grief had spent itself. Her voice was +now almost steady. + +Mrs. Dean had already made a shrewd guess regarding the reason for +Marjorie's tears. "Is that affair of yesterday responsible for your +suspension from school, Lieutenant?" she questioned abruptly. + +"Yes." With an occasional quaver in her speech, Marjorie went over the +details of both visits to the principal's office. + +"Hm!" ejaculated Mr. Dean, his eyes seeking his wife's. "Suppose you +tell your general the beginning of all this." + +"It strikes me that Miss Archer behaved in a a rather high-handed +manner," he observed dryly when Marjorie had ended her sad little story. + +"I can't blame her so much." Marjorie was loyal to the death. "I know +just how terribly it must have hurt her. I suppose I should have told +her everything in the first place." + +Mrs. Dean released Marjorie's hand and rose from the davenport, intense +determination written on every feature. "Miss Archer will listen to +_me_," she announced grimly. "I shall go to Sanford High School at once. +My daughter is entitled to justice and she shall receive it. I am +surprised at Miss Archer's unfair attitude. Go upstairs and bathe your +face, Marjorie. General, will you see to the car?" + +"But she won't see me, I am afraid." + +"Nonsense," returned her mother with unusual brusqueness. Stepping into +the hall, she consulted the telephone directory. "Give me Sycamore 213," +she called into the transmitter. "Miss Archer? This is Mrs. Dean. +Marjorie has just come from school. I am sure you will accept my word +that she has done nothing dishonest. Will it be convenient for you to +see us at once? Thank you. We will be at the high school within the next +half hour." + +During the short telephone conversation, Marjorie stood at her mother's +side, hardly daring to breathe. Mrs. Dean hung up the receiver to the +accompaniment of her daughter's wild embrace. "Go and make yourself +presentable," she chided. Disengaging the clinging arms, she gave +Marjorie a gentle shove toward the stairs. + +Youth's tears are quickly dried, its sorrows soon forgotten. Ten minutes +afterward, a radiant-faced lieutenant presented herself in the hall, +renewed buoyancy in her step as she and her captain passed through the +gate to where the automobile awaited them with Mr. Dean at the wheel. + +"I'll stay here," he decided as they drew up before the high school. +"Let our valiant captain lead the charge. You can fall back on your +reserves if you are routed with slaughter." + +"Captain's won half the battle," joyfully declared Marjorie. "Now I am +sure I can win the other half." Blowing a kiss to her father she set her +face toward vindication. + +Miss Archer greeted Mrs. Dean in a friendly, impersonal fashion, which +showed plainly that she was not displeased with the latter for taking +such prompt action. Her bow to Marjorie was distinctly reserved, +however. She had yet to be convinced of the girl's innocence. + +"According to Marjorie's story, Miss Archer," began Mrs. Dean with +gentle directness, "she has been the victim of circumstantial evidence. +I am not here to criticize your stand in this affair. I understand that +you must have been severely tried. I merely wish to ask you to allow +Marjorie to tell her story from beginning to end. She came to me +yesterday with it, and asked my advice. I deferred decision until +to-day. It seems I was a day too late. However, I wish her to do the +explaining." + +A faint, embarrassed flush stole to Miss Archer's face as she listened. +She was beginning to realize that she had for once been too quick to +condemn. Mrs. Dean was too high-principled a woman to attempt to smooth +over her own child's offences. Under the battery of her friend's clear +eyes, the principal found herself penitently responding: "Mrs. Dean, I +must admit that I am at fault. Had I stopped to listen to Marjorie, I am +now certain that I should have found her explanation satisfactory." + +"Thank you." Mrs. Dean extended a gracious hand in which the principal +laid her own with a smile. The two women understood each other +perfectly. + +Marjorie's sensitive lips quivered as Miss Archer's hand went out to her +also. "I am only too glad to be able to apologize for misjudging you, +Marjorie," she said with grave gentleness. "The truest atonement which I +can make is to say 'I believe in you' without a hearing." + +"But I wish to tell you everything, Miss Archer," assured Marjorie +earnestly. "It was only because I hated the idea of tale-bearing that I +didn't tell you this morning. I thought that Miss Farnham----" + +"Would tell me," supplemented the principal. "I quite understand. +Frankly it would help me very much if you put me in complete possession +of the facts of the case. I hardly believe you owe it to Miss Farnham to +conceal anything." + +With a charitable striving toward placing the other girl in the least +obnoxious light, Marjorie gave Miss Archer a true but unmalicious +version of all that had passed between herself and Rowena Farnham. + +"This is simply outrageous," was Miss Archer's emphatic verdict. "Miss +Farnham is a menace to Sanford High School. In all my experience with +young women I have never met with her equal. I shall recommend the Board +that she be not allowed to enter the school. A firebrand such as she has +shown herself to be is more than likely to spread her devastating +influence throughout the school. We have a duty to perform to the +parents who intrust their daughters to us which cannot be overlooked." + +"I agree with you," was Mrs. Dean's grave response. "Still, I am very +sorry for this girl, and for her parents. We all wish to be proud of our +children. It must be dreadful to be disappointed in them." + +"You, at least, will never be called upon to bear such a +disappointment." Miss Archer's hearty reply caused an exchange of +affectionate glances between her hearers. + +"I hope I shall always prove worthy of Captain's and your trust." +Marjorie's little speech rung with modest sincerity. Hesitatingly she +added: "Miss Archer, couldn't you possibly give Miss Farnham another +chance? When I was at her house the other day she said that her father +and mother wanted her to go to high school. She'd rather go to boarding +school, but they won't let her. If she isn't allowed to enter Sanford +High she will have to go away to school. That might not be the best +thing for her." Marjorie paused, blushing at her own temerity. + +"You are a very forgiving little girl." Miss Archer eyed the pleader in +a whimsical fashion. "There is a great deal in your view of the matter, +too. It is a question of one girl's parents against many, however. So +far as I can remember this is the first case in the history of the +school that warranted dismissal. As you have been the chief sufferer in +this tangle, your plea for clemency should be respected. It shall be +mentioned to the members of the Board of Education. That is all I can +promise now. Personally, as _you_ are great-spirited enough to plead for +her, I am willing to do my part. But only on your account. I doubt the +advisability of allowing her to go on with her examinations. However, +'forewarned is forearmed.' Should she be permitted to enter the school, +I shall keep a watchful eye on her." + +Real admiration of Marjorie's readiness to help one who had treated her +so shabbily caused the principal to speak as confidentially to her pupil +as she might have to a member of the Board. Marjorie, as well as her +mother, was aware of this. Yet far from being elated at the mark of +confidence, the pretty junior bore her honors almost humbly. She merely +thanked Miss Archer in the sweet, gracious fashion that set her apart +from all other girls with whom the principal had come in contact during +her long service on the field of education. + +Almost immediately afterward the Deans said farewell and departed +happily to convey the good news to their somewhat impatient chauffeur, +who sat in the automobile pondering whimsically on the length and +breadth of women's chats. Long after they had gone, Marjorie's winsome, +selfless personality haunted the busy principal. To be truly great one +must be truly good was her inner reflection. Remembering past +circumstances in which Marjorie had figured ever as a force for good, +she marveled that she could have doubted her. And as a vision of the +girl's lovely face, animated by the light from within, rose before her +she mentally prophesied that Marjorie Dean was destined one day to reach +the heights. + + + + +CHAPTER IX--A SUDDEN ATTACK + + +"Where were you yesterday afternoon?" demanded Jerry Macy, as Marjorie +walked into the locker room at the close of the morning session. + +Marjorie considered for a moment. Should she tell Jerry or should she +not? She decided in the negative. "I was at home a part of the +afternoon." + +Jerry measured her with a calculating eye. "You don't want to tell me, +do you?" was her blunt question. "All right. Forget it. Anyway, we +missed you. You're a mysterious person. One day you march off on a dark, +secret errand after making lavish promises to treat on the next. When +that day rolls around you don't appear at all. Never mind. I saved your +face by treating for you." Jerry delivered her opinion of her friend's +peculiar behavior good-humoredly enough. Underneath, however, she was a +tiny bit peeved. She was very fond of Marjorie and prided herself that +she was entirely in the latter's confidence. + +"You're not cross with me, are you, Jerry?" Marjorie regarded the stout +girl rather anxiously. She could not conceive of being on the outs with +funny, bluff Geraldine Macy. + +"No; I'm not a silly like Mignon," mumbled Jerry gruffly. "You ought to +know that by this time without asking me." + +"Jerry Macy, I believe you are angry with me," declared Marjorie, +looking still more troubled. + +"No, I'm not," came the quick retort. "I'm not blind, either, and my +head isn't made of wood." + +"What do you mean?" It was Marjorie's turn to speak quickly. + +"Just what I say," asserted Jerry. "You've had some sort of trouble over +that Farnham girl. Rowena--humph! It ought to be Row-ena with a special +accent on the _Row_. I knew by the way you looked and spoke of her day +before yesterday that something had gone wrong. I'll bet I know where +you went on that errand, too. You went to her house. Now didn't you?" + +Marjorie gave a short laugh. It held a note of vexation. "Really, Jerry, +you ought to be a detective. How did you know where I went yesterday +after I left you?" + +"Oh, I just guessed it. It's like you to do that sort of thing. I'm +dying to hear what it's all about. Are you going to tell me _now_?" She +accented the "now" quite triumphantly. + +"I hadn't intended to mention it to anyone, but I might as well tell +_you_. You seem to know quite a little bit about it already. I can't say +anything more now. Here come Susan and Muriel. We'll talk of it after we +leave them at their street. By the way, where is Constance? She wasn't +in school this morning." + +"Don't know. I wondered about her, too. She didn't say yesterday that +she wasn't coming to school to-day. Maybe her father marched into Gray +Gables without notice." + +"Perhaps. I'll ask the girls if they know." + +Neither Susan, Muriel nor Irma, the latter joining the quartette +immediately after, knew the reason for Constance Stevens' absence. The +five girls trooped out of the building together, chatting gaily as they +started home for luncheon. Marjorie gave a little shiver as it occurred +to her how near she had come to losing her right to be a pupil of +Sanford High. She felt that nothing save the loss of her dear ones would +have hurt her more than to have been dismissed from school under a +cloud. + +"Now tell me everything," began Jerry, the moment they had parted from +the three girls to continue on up the pleasant, tree-lined avenue. + +"I think that was simply _awful_," burst forth the now irate Jerry, as +Marjorie concluded her narration. "Talk about Mignon--she's an angel with +beautiful feathery wings, when you come to compare her with Row-ena. I +hope the Board says she can't set foot in school again. That's what I +hope. I'll tell my father to vote against letting her try any more +examinations. That's what I'll do." + +"You mustn't do that." Marjorie spoke with unusual severity. "What I've +said to you is in confidence. Besides, it wouldn't be fair. For her +father's and mother's sake I think she ought to have another chance. It +might be the very best thing for her to go to high school. She will be +far better off at home than away at boarding school. If she could go +away to a college it would be different. Colleges are more strict and +dignified. A girl just has to live up to their traditions. General says +that even in the most select boarding schools the girls have too much +liberty. So you see it wouldn't be a good place for this girl." + +"I see you're a goose," was Jerry's unflattering comment. "You're a dear +goose, though. You certainly have the reform habit. I can tell you, +though, that you are all wrong about this Farnham girl. You remember how +beautifully we reformed Mignon, and how grateful she was. Mignon's a +mere infant beside gentle, little Row-ena. You notice I still say _Row_. +It's a very good name for her. Of course, we could change off +occasionally and call her Fightena, or Quarrelena, or Scrapena." Jerry +giggled at her own witticism. + +Marjorie could not forbear joining her. Jerry's disapproval of things +was usually tinged with comedy. "You're a heartless person, Jeremiah," +she reproved lightly. "I'm not going to try to reform Miss Farnham. I +can't imagine her as taking kindly to it. I'm only saying that she ought +to have another chance." + +"Well, if you can stand it I can," Jerry sighed, then chuckled as her +vivid imagination pictured to her the high-handed Rowena struggling in +the clutches of reform. "Miss Archer ought to have thought twice and +spoken once," she added grimly. "That's what she's always preaching to +us to do." Jerry was no respecter of personages. + +"I can't blame her much," Marjorie shook her head. "It's dreadful to +think that someone you've trusted is dishonorable. It hurts a good deal +worse than if it were someone you had expected would fail you. I +_know_." + +"I suppose you do." Jerry understood the significant "I know." Rather +more gently she continued: "Perhaps you're right about Fightena, I mean +Row-ena. You generally are right, only you've got into some tangled webs +trying to prove it. Anyway, she won't be a junior if she does manage to +get into school. She'll be a sophomore. I hope she stays where she +belongs. You'd better look out for her, though. If she really thinks you +wrote that anonymous letter--I don't believe she does--she'll try to get +even. With Mignon La Salle to help, she might bother you a good deal. I +hope they have a falling out." + +"You are always hoping some terrible thing," laughed Marjorie. "You have +the hoping habit, and your hopes about other people are really +horrifying." + +"Never mind, they never amount to much," consoled Jerry with a chuckle. +"I've been hoping awful things about people I don't like for years and +that's all the good it's ever done." + +"I think I'll run over to Gray Gables after school," Marjorie changed +the subject with sudden abruptness. "Want to go with me?" + +"I'll go," assented Jerry. "I owe Charlie a box of candy. I promised it +to him the night of Mary's farewell party. Mary wrote me a dandy letter. +Did I tell you about it?" + +"No. I've had one from her, too; eighteen pages." + +"Some letter. Mine was only ten." + +The introduction of Mary's name into the conversation kept the two girls +busy talking until they were about to part company. + +"Don't forget you are going with me to see Constance," reminded Marjorie +as Jerry left her at the Macys' gate. + +"Do you believe that I could possibly forget?" Jerry laid a fat hand +over her heart in ridiculous imitation of a certain sentimental high +school youth whom Marjorie continually endeavored to dodge. + +"See that you don't," was her laughing retort. "Shall we ask Muriel, +Susan and Irma to go with us?" + +"None of them can go. Muriel has to take a piano lesson. Susan has a +date with her dressmaker, and Irma's going shopping with her mother. You +see I know everything about everybody," asserted Jerry, unconsciously +repeating Constance Stevens' very words. + +"You surely do," Marjorie agreed. "Good-bye, then. I'll meet you in the +locker room after school to-night." + +"My name is Johnny-on-the-spot," returned the irrepressible Jerry over +her shoulder. + +"Oh, dear!" Marjorie exclaimed in impatience, as she walked into the +locker room at the end of the afternoon session to find Jerry already +there ahead of her. "I've left my Csar in my desk. I'll have to go back +after it. That lesson for to-morrow is dreadfully long. Somehow I +couldn't keep my attention on study that last hour, so I just bundled +all my books together and thought I'd put in a busy evening. I don't see +how I missed my Commentaries. It shows that my mind was wandering." + +"Come on over to my house this evening. You can use my Csar. We'll put +one over on the busy little bee and have some fun afterward. Besides, +Hal will be grateful to me for a week. I'll make good use of his +gratitude, too," grinned wily Jerry. + +Marjorie's cheeks grew delightfully pink. In her frank, girlish fashion +she was very fond of Jerry's handsome brother. Although her liking for +him was not one of foolish sentimentality, she could not help being a +trifle pleased at this direct insinuation of his preference for her. + +"All right. I'm sure Captain will say 'yes,'" she made reply. "I won't +bother to go back after my book. If I did Miss Merton might snap at me. +I try to keep out of her way as much as I can. Where are the girls? Have +they gone?" + +"Yes, they beat it in a hurry. Come on. Let's be on our way." Though +deplorably addicted to slang, Jerry was at least forcefully succinct. + +It was a fairly long walk to Gray Gables, but their way led through one +of the prettiest parts of Sanford. Situated almost on the outskirts of +the town, the picturesque dwelling was in itself one of the beauty spots +of the thriving little city. + +"There's the Jail." Jerry indexed a plump finger toward the inhospitable +stone house which Marjorie had so lately visited. The two girls had +reached the point where a turn in the wide, elm-shaded avenue brought +them within sight of the La Salle and Farnham properties. "It would be a +good place for Row-ena, if she had to stay locked up there. She could +think over her sins and reform without help. I hope----" + +"There you go again," laughed Marjorie. "Don't do it. Suppose some day +all these things you have hoped about other people were to come back to +you." + +"I won't worry about it until they do," Jerry made optimistic answer. +"If I----" She checked herself to stare at a runabout that shot past them, +driven at a reckless rate of speed by an elfish-faced girl. "There they +go!" she exclaimed. "Did you see who was in that machine? Oh, look! +They're slowing up! Now they've stopped! I hope they've had a +break-down." + +Marjorie's eyes were already riveted on the runabout which they were now +approaching. A tall figure whom she at once recognized as belonging to +Rowena Farnham was in the act of emerging from the machine. Hatless, her +auburn head gleaming in the sun, her black eyes flaming challenge, she +stood at one side of the runabout, drawn up for battle. + +"She's waiting for us!" gasped Jerry. "Let's turn around and walk the +other way, just to fool her. No; let's not. I guess we can hold our +own." + +"I shall have nothing to say to her," decided Marjorie, a youthful +picture of cold disdain. "Don't you say a word, either, Jerry. We'll +walk on about our own business, just as though we didn't even see her." + +Jerry had no time to reply. Almost immediately they caught up with the +belligerent Rowena. Realizing that her quarry was about to elude her, +she sprang squarely in front of them with, "Wait a minute. I've +something to say to _you_." The "you" was directed at Marjorie. + +Marjorie was about to circle the lively impediment and move on, when +Mignon La Salle called from the runabout, "I told you she was a coward, +Rowena." A scornful laugh accompanied the insult. + +That settled it. Marjorie's recent resolution flew to the winds. "I will +hear whatever you have to say," she declared quietly, stopping short. + +"I don't very well see how you can do anything else," sneered Rowena. "I +suppose you think that you gained a great deal by your tale-bearing +yesterday, don't you? Let me tell you, you've made a mistake. I'm going +to be a sophomore in Sanford High School just the same. You'll see. You +are a sneaking little prig, and I'm going to make it my business to let +every girl in school know it. You can't----" + +"_You_ can't talk like that to Marjorie Dean." Before Marjorie could +reply, Jerry Macy leaped into a hot defense. "I won't have it! She is my +friend." + +"Shh! Jerry, please don't," Marjorie protested. + +"I will. Don't stop me. You," she glared at Rowena, "make me sick. I +could tell you in about one minute where you get off at, but it isn't +worth the waste of breath. Marjorie Dean has more friends in a minute in +Sanford High than you'll ever have. You think you and Mignon La Salle +can do a whole lot. Better not try it, you'll wish you hadn't. Now get +busy and beat it. You're blocking the highway." + +"What a delightful person you are," jeered Rowena. "Just the sort of +friend I'd imagine Miss Dean might have. As I have had the pleasure of +telling her what I think of her, you may as well hear my opinion of +yourself. You are the rudest girl I ever met, and the slangiest. My +father and mother would never forgive me if they knew I even spoke to +such a girl." Having delivered herself of this Parthian shot, Rowena +wheeled and stepped into the runabout with, "Go ahead, Mignon. I don't +care to be seen talking with such persons." + +As the runabout started away with a defiant chug, Jerry and Marjorie +stared at each other in silence. + +"I hope----" began Jerry, then stopped. "Say," she went on the next +instant, "that was what Hal would call a hot shot, wasn't it?" + +"It was," Marjorie admitted. In spite of her vexation at the unexpected +attack, she could hardly repress a smile. Quite unknowingly Rowena had +attacked Jerry's pet failing. Her constant use of popular slang was a +severe cross to both her father and mother. Over and over she had been +lectured by them on this very subject, only to maintain that if Hal used +slang she saw no reason why she shouldn't. To please them she made +spasmodic efforts toward polite English, but when excited or angry she +was certain to drop back into this forceful but inelegant vernacular. + +"I suppose I do use a whole lot of slang." Jerry made the admission +rather ruefully. "Mother says I'm the limit. There I go again. I mean +mother says I'm--what am I?" she asked with a giggle. + +"You are a very good friend, Jerry." Marjorie looked her affection for +the crestfallen champion of her rights. "I wouldn't worry about what +she--Miss Farnham says. If you think you ought not to use slang, then +just try not to use it." Marjorie was too greatly touched by Jerry's +loyalty to peck at this minor failing. "What a strange combination those +two girls make!" she mused. "I can't imagine them being friends for very +long. They are both too fond of having their own way. I must say I +wasn't scared by all those threats. It isn't what others say about one +that counts, it's what one really is that makes a difference." + +"That's just what I think," agreed Jerry. "We all know Mignon so well +now that we can pretty nearly beat her at her own game. As for this +Rowena, she'd better wait until she gets back into Sanford High before +she plans to do much. All that sort of thing is so silly and useless, +now isn't it? It reminds me of these blood-and-thunder movies like 'The +Curse of a Red Hot Hate,' or 'The Double-dyed Villain's Horrible +Revenge,' or 'The Iron Hand of Hatred's Death-Dealing Wallop.'" Jerry +saw fit to chuckle at this last creation of fancifully appropriate +title. "You're right about those two, though. Don't you remember I said +the same thing when I first told you of this Farnham girl? Mignon has +met her match, at last. She'll find it out, too, before she's many weeks +older, or my name's not Jerry Macy." + + + + +CHAPTER X--A CRUSHING PENALTY + + +As Jerry had guessed, Constance Stevens' absence from school was due to +the fact that her foster-father had descended upon Gray Gables for a +brief visit. He was delighted to see both Marjorie and Jerry. Constance +insisted that they should remain to dinner, whereupon the tireless +telephone was put into use and the two remained at Gray Gables, there to +spend a most agreeable evening. At about eleven o'clock Hal Macy +appeared to take them home in the Macy's smart limousine. Thus, in the +pleasure of being with her friends, Marjorie quite forgot the +disagreeable incident that had earlier befallen herself and Jerry. +Strange to say, Csar's Commentaries, also, faded from recollection, and +it was not until they were driving home that the estimable Roman was +tardily remembered along with previous good intentions. "It's unprepared +for ours," was Jerry's doleful cry, thereby proving that the will to +abolish slang was better than the deed. + +Due to placing pleasure before duty, Marjorie felt it incumbent upon her +to make an early entrance into school the next morning for the purpose +of taking a hasty peep at her neglected text books. She was lucky, she +told herself, in that the last hour in the morning would give her an +opportunity to go over her Csar lesson. She, therefore, confined her +attention to her English literature, deciding that she could somehow +manage to slide through her French without absolute failure. Civil +government would also have to take its chance for one recitation. + +When at fifteen minutes past eleven she came into the study hall from +French class and settled herself to begin the business of Latin, she was +for once glad to lay hold on the fat, green volume devoted to the doings +of the invincible Csar. Opening it, a faint cluck of surprise fell from +her lips as she took from it a square, white envelope addressed to +herself. It was unsealed and as she drew forth the folded paper which it +held she wondered mightily how it had come to be there. She was very +sure she had not placed it in the book. Her bewilderment deepened as she +read: + + "Miss Dean: + + "After what occurred the other day in the principal's office it is + surprising that you were not expelled from Sanford High School. It + proves you to be a special pet of Miss Archer. Such unfairness is + contemptible in a principal. It should be exposed, along with your + dishonesty. Sooner or later even that will be found out and you will + receive your just deserts. It is a long lane that has no turning. + + "The Observer." + +Marjorie emitted a faint sigh of pure amazement as she finished reading +this sinister prediction of her ultimate downfall. It was a piece of +rank absurdity, evidently penned by someone who had no intimate +knowledge of inside facts. Still it filled her with a curious sense of +horror. She loathed the very idea of an anonymous letter. Once before +since she had first set foot in Sanford High the experience of receiving +one of these mysterious communications had been hers. It had pertained +to basket ball, however. She had easily guessed its origin and it had +troubled her little. This letter was of an entirely different character. +It proved that among the girls with whom she daily met and associated +there was one, at least, who did not wish her well. + +As she reread the spiteful message, her thoughts leaped to Rowena +Farnham as the person most open to suspicion. Yet Rowena had made a +direct attack upon her. Again there was Mignon. She was wholly capable +of such a deed. Strangely enough, Marjorie was seized with the belief +that neither girl was responsible for it. She did not know why she +believed this to be true. She simply accepted it as such, and cudgelled +her brain for another more plausible solution of the mystery. + +As she studied it the more she became convinced that the writing was the +same as that of the similarly signed letter Miss Archer had received. +The stationery, too, was the same. The words, "The Observer," were the +crowning proof which entirely exonerated Rowena. She had certainly not +written the first note. Therefore, she had not written the second. +Marjorie was in a quandary as to whether or not she should go frankly to +the principal and exhibit the letter. She felt that Miss Archer would +wish to see it, and at once take the matter up. She could hardly charge +Rowena with it, thereby lessening her chances of entering the school. +This second note made no mention of Rowena. Its spitefulness was +directed entirely toward Marjorie herself. As it pertained wholly to +her, she believed that it might be better to keep the affair locked +within her own breast. After all, it might amount to nothing. No doubt, +Rowena had related her own version of the algebra problem to Mignon. +Mignon was noted for her malicious powers of gossip. A garbled account +on her part of the matter might have aroused some one of her few allies +to this cowardly method of attack. Still this explanation would not +cover the writing of the first letter. + +Quite at sea regarding its source, Marjorie gave the distasteful missive +an impatient little flip that sent it fluttering off her desk to the +floor. Reaching down she lifted it, holding it away from her as though +it were a noisome weed. She burned to tear it into bits, but an inner +prompting stayed her destroying hands. Replacing it in the envelope, she +tucked it inside her silk blouse, determining to file it away at home in +case she needed it for future reference. She hoped, however, that it +would never be needed. Whoever had slipped it into her Csar must have +done so after she had left her desk on the previous afternoon, following +the close of the session. She wished she knew those who had lingered in +the study hall after half-past three. This she was not likely to learn. +Her own intimate friends had all passed out of the study hall at the +ringing of the closing bell. She resolved that she would make casual +inquiries elsewhere in the hope of finding a clue. + +During the rest of the week she pursued this course with tactful +assiduousness, but she could discover nothing worth while. What she did +learn, however, was that due to a strenuous appeal to the Board of +Education on the part of Mr. Farnham, his daughter had been allowed, on +strict promise of future good behavior, to try an entirely new set of +examinations. Fortune must have attended her, for on the next Monday she +appeared in the study hall as radiantly triumphant as though she had +received a great honor, rather than a reluctant admission into the +sophomore fold. + +"Well, she got there!" hailed Jerry Macy in high disgust, happening to +meet Marjorie in the corridor between classes on the morning of Rowena's +retarded arrival. "My father said they had quite a time about it. She +got into school by just one vote. He wouldn't tell me which way he +voted, but he said he was glad she wasn't his daughter." + +"I'm honestly glad for hers and her parents' sake that she was allowed +another trial." Marjorie spoke with sincere earnestness. "She's had a +severe lesson. She may profit by it and get along without any more +trouble." + +"Profit by nothing," grumbled Jerry. "She can't change her disposition +any more than a cat can grow feathers or an ostrich whiskers. Row-ena, +Scrapena, Fightena, Quarrelena she is and will be forever and forever. +Let's not talk about her. She makes me--I mean I feel somewhat languid +whenever her name is mentioned." Jerry delivered her polite emendation +with irresistible drollery. "Did you know that there's to be a junior +basket ball try-out next Tuesday after school?" + +"No." Marjorie's interest was aroused. "Who told you? It certainly +hasn't been announced." + +"Ellen Seymour told me. She's going to help Miss Davis manage the team +this year in Marcia Arnold's place. I imagine she'll do most of the +managing. I guess Miss Davis had enough of basket ball last year. She +told Ellen that it took up too much of her time. She knew, I guess, that +the upper class girls wouldn't relish her interference. Ellen says you +must be sure to be at the try-out. She hopes you----" Jerry left off +speaking and looked sheepish. + +"Well, why don't you finish? What does Ellen wish me to do?" + +"You'll find out at the try-out. Now don't ask me any more questions +about it." Jerry's cheerful grin belied her brusque words. + +"You're a very tantalizing person," smiled Marjorie. "There goes the +second bell. I'll see you later." She scudded away, wondering what it +was that Jerry had stoutly refused to reveal. Evidently, it must be +something of pleasant import, else Jerry would have frowned rather than +smiled. + +The next day, directly after opening exercises, Miss Merton dryly read +out the official call to the try-out. It was received by the junior +section with an audible joy which she sternly quenched. Miss Merton was +in even less sympathy with "that rough-and-tumble game" than she was +with the girls who elected to play it. It was directly due to her that +Miss Davis had lost interest in it. + +To those intimately interested in making the junior team, the Tuesday +afternoon session seemed interminable. Eager eyes frequently consulted +the moon-faced study-hall clock, as its hands traveled imperturbably +toward the hour of reprieve. Would half-past three never come? At ten +minutes past three Muriel Harding's impatience vented itself in the +writing of a heart-felt complaint to Marjorie. She wrote: + + "This afternoon is one hundred years long. Darling Miss Merton + wishes it was two hundred. The very idea that we are going to the + try-out gives her pain. She hates herself, but she hates basket ball + worse. If I should invite her to the try-out she would gobble me up. + So I shall not risk my precious self. You may do the inviting." + +This uncomplimentary tribute to Miss Merton was whisked successfully +down the section and into Marjorie's hands. As note-passing was +obnoxious to the crabbed teacher, Muriel had neither addressed nor +signed it. She had craftily whispered her instructions to the girl ahead +of her, who had obligingly repeated them to the next and so on down the +row. Unfortunately, Miss Merton's eyes had spied it on its journey. She +instantly left her desk to pounce upon it at the moment it was delivered +into Marjorie's keeping. + +"You may give me that note, Miss Dean," she thundered, extending a thin, +rigid hand. + +"Pardon me, Miss Merton, but this note is for _me_." Her fingers closing +about it, Marjorie lifted resolute, brown eyes to the disagreeable face +above her. + +"Give it to me instantly. You are an impertinent young woman." Miss +Merton glared down as though quite ready to take Marjorie by the +shoulders and shake her. + +Back in her own seat, Muriel Harding was divided between admiration for +Marjorie and fear that she would yield to Miss Merton's demand. Despite +lack of signature, the latter would have little trouble in identifying +the writer were she given a chance to read the note. Muriel saw trouble +looming darkly on her horizon. + +"I am sorry you think me impertinent. I do not mean to be." The soft +voice rang with quiet decision. "But I cannot give you this note." +Marjorie calmly put the note in her blouse, and, folding her hands, +awaited the storm. + +"You will stay here to-night until you give it to me," decreed Miss +Merton grimly. Beaten for the time, she stalked back to her desk, quite +aware that she could hardly have imposed a more crushing penalty. True, +her effort to obtain the note had been fruitless, but one thing was +patent: Marjorie Dean would not be present at the junior basket ball +try-out. + + + + +CHAPTER XI--AT THE ELEVENTH HOUR + + +Left to herself for a brief respite, Marjorie drew out the note and read +it. An expression of amused consternation flashed into her eyes as she +took in its spirit. Knowing the writing to be Muriel's she was now glad +she had stood her ground. Note writing was not forbidden in Sanford High +and never had been. Miss Merton alone, of all the teachers, strenuously +opposed it. To be sure, it was not regarded by them with special favor. +Nevertheless, in the class-rooms no one was ever taken to task for it +unless it seriously interfered with the recitation. Marjorie did not +know Miss Archer's views on the subject, but she believed her principal +too great-minded to cavil at such trifles. + +The instant she had finished reading the note, she reduced it to +unreadable bits, leaving them in plain sight on her desk. Not by so much +as a backward glance did she betray the writer. Knowing Miss Merton to +be on the alert, she took no chances. Should the latter send her to Miss +Archer, she would very quickly express herself on the subject. As a +junior she believed that the time for treating her as a member of the +primary grade had long since passed. + +It was not until she had effectually blocked all possibility of the note +falling into Miss Merton's possession that she remembered the try-out. +Her heart sank as she recalled what a lengthy, lonely stay in the study +hall meant. The try-out would go on without her. She would lose all +chance of obtaining a place on the junior team. Her changeful face paled +a trifle as she sadly accepted this dire disaster to her hopes. If only +Muriel had not written that note. + +The first closing bell sent a tremor of despair to her heavy heart. She +wondered how long Miss Merton would detain her. She had said, "You will +stay here to-night until you give it to me." Even in the midst of +misfortune the edict took a humorous turn. She had a vision of herself +and Miss Merton keeping a lonely, all-night vigil in the study hall. + +At the second bell the long lines of girls began a decorous filing down +the aisles to the great doors. Marjorie watched them go, vainly +pondering on why, thus far, her junior year had been so filled with +mishaps. A bad beginning sometimes made a good ending was her only +comforting reflection. She hoped that in her case it would prove true. + +"Why are you staying, Miss Harding?" rasped forth Miss Merton when the +big room had at last emptied itself. + +Marjorie faced about with a start. She had not reckoned on this. She +made a desperate sign to Muriel to go. Muriel merely shook an obstinate +head. Then she announced bravely, "I wrote that note to Miss Dean." + +"Then you may remain in your seat," snapped the frowning teacher. "Miss +Dean, do you intend to give me that note?" + +"I have destroyed it," came the calm reply. + +"You are determined to defy me, I see. Very well, you may tell me the +contents of it. I saw you read it after I had returned to my desk." + +"I have nothing to say," Marjorie replied with terse obstinacy. + +"Miss Harding, _you_ may tell me what you wrote." Miss Merton suddenly +swung her attack from Marjorie to Muriel. + +"I will not." Muriel spoke with hot decision. "Neither Miss Dean nor I +are grammar school children. I see no reason why we should be treated as +such. I think it very ridiculous, and I will not submit to it. You may +send me to Miss Archer if you like. I am quite ready to say to her what +I have just said to you." + +As Muriel's challenge of defiance cut the storm-laden atmosphere, a most +unexpected thing happened. Almost as if the mere mention of her name had +served to bring her to the scene, Miss Archer walked into the study +hall. She had come in time to catch Muriel's last sentence, and her +quick faculties had leaped to conclusion. + +"What is it that you are quite ready to say to me, Miss Harding?" was +her grave interrogation. + +Miss Merton's sallow cheeks took on a lively tinge of red. She was not +specially anxious to bring Miss Archer into the discussion. Had the +recipient of the note been other than Marjorie Dean, she would have +allowed the incident to pass with a caustic rebuke. But her dislike for +the winsome girl was deep-rooted. She could never resist the slightest +opportunity to vent it publicly. + +"I wrote a note to Miss Dean, Miss Archer," burst forth Muriel. "Miss +Merton asked Miss Dean for it and she wouldn't give it to her. So Miss +Merton said she must stay here until she did. Miss Dean tore the note +up. I stayed because I wrote it. Miss Merton says we must tell her what +was in that note. I won't do it. Neither will Marjorie. I just said that +I did not think we ought to be treated like grammar-school children. I +said, too, that I would be willing to say so to you, and I have." + +Miss Archer's quizzical gaze traveled from Muriel's flushed face to +Marjorie's composed features. Here was, indeed, a problem in that +unknown quantity, girl nature. Miss Archer was too thoroughly acquainted +with the ways of girls not to comprehend what lay beneath this out and +out defiance of Miss Merton's commands. She understood, if Miss Merton +did not, or would not, the rather overdrawn sense of school-girl honor +which prompted the rebellion. She knew that except in extreme cases, +there was little to be obtained by using force. It was all too likely to +defeat its own object. + +"The attitude of these two young women toward me is insufferable." Miss +Merton now took up a harsh stand. She did not intend the principal +should allow the matter to be passed over lightly. "Miss Dean, in +particular, has been most disrespectful. In fact, ever since she became +a pupil of this school she has derived an especial delight from annoying +me." + +Miss Archer's face wore an inscrutable expression as she listened. Years +of association with Miss Merton had taught her to read between the +lines. Yet she knew she must now proceed with the utmost diplomacy. As a +teacher Miss Merton was entitled to the respect of her pupils. She had +an inner conviction, however, that the irate woman was piling injustice +upon Marjorie's shoulders. She herself was beginning to understand the +girl's motives could never be classed as unworthy. Young in years, she +possessed already a breadth of mind which Miss Merton could never hope +to attain. + +"You are entitled to the utmost respect on the part of your pupils, Miss +Merton," she levelly acknowledged. "I am sorry to hear bad reports of +any of my pupils. I am sure that Miss Harding and Miss Dean will rectify +the matter with an apology. As for the note, perhaps it might be wiser +to allow the matter to drop." + +"Girls," she now addressed the belligerents, "it seems to me that, as +long as note-writing has proved a source of trouble to you, you might +better give up the practice. Let me ask you a question. Was there any +grave and important reason for writing that note?" + +Muriel Harding hung her head. "No, Miss Archer," came her low answer. + +Marjorie's pale face took on a faint glow of pink. "It was not +necessary," she admitted. + +"Very well. You have both agreed that it was unnecessary. My advice to +you is to discontinue the practice. I must insist that both of you make +apology to Miss Merton for the annoyance you have caused." + +"Miss Merton, I regret that you should have been annoyed by me." +Marjorie made an immediate and dignified apology, which was perfectly +sincere on her part. For more reasons than one she deplored the +annoyance. + +Muriel, however, hesitated a second or two before committing herself. +Suddenly it dawned upon her that Miss Archer's demand for apology had a +deeper significance. She thereupon made haste to repeat Marjorie's exact +words. + +Miss Merton received both apologetic speeches in black silence. She was +inwardly furious with the principal, not only for her unexpected +intrusion, but for the lax manner in which she had administered +discipline. At least, Miss Merton considered it distinctly lax. Still, +she knew that it would be in bad taste to try to overrule the +principal's decision. "You are dismissed," she said stiffly. "See to it +that you conduct yourselves properly hereafter." She could not resist +this one touch of authority. + +The ex-culprits lost no time in leaving the study hall behind them. Not +a word passed between them until the door of the junior locker room had +closed upon them. Their eyes meeting, they burst into laughter, +discreetly subdued, but most expressive of their feelings. Each mind +held the same thought. What would Miss Merton have said had she read the +note? + + + + +CHAPTER XII--A DOUBTFUL VICTORY + + +"Marjorie Dean, you are true blue!" exclaimed Muriel. "Whatever +possessed me to write that awful note? If Miss Merton had read it--well, +you can guess what would have happened. I shook in my shoes when I heard +her ask you for it." + +"I'm glad I didn't give it to her." An angry sparkle leaped into +Marjorie's soft eyes. "She only made a fuss about it because it was I +who had it. I think Miss Archer understood that. I love her for it. She +treats us always as though we were young women; not as naughty children. +But we mustn't stand here. It's four o'clock now. I am afraid we won't +have a chance to play. Only about fifteen or twenty juniors are going to +try for the team. It may be made already." Marjorie picked up the bag +which contained her basket ball suit and tennis shoes. + +"Let us hustle along then," urged Muriel. Seizing her friend by one +hand, her luggage in the other, the two raced for the gymnasium, hoping +against hope. + +"It's all over." Muriel cried out in disappointment as they entered the +great room. + +"I am afraid so," faltered Marjorie, as she noted the group of +bloomer-clad girls standing idle at one end of the gymnasium. Here and +there about the floor were others in uniform. Altogether she counted +eighteen. Ellen Seymour and two other seniors were seated on the +platform, their chairs drawn together, their attention apparently fixed +on a pad on Ellen's knee. Spectators had been firmly but politely denied +admission. Ellen had pronounced them a detriment to the try-out and +elected that they should remain away. + +"Hello, Marjorie Dean," joyfully called out Harriet Delaney. As she +hailed Marjorie she ran toward the two girls. "We thought you were lost +to us forever. Where were you, Muriel? You surely didn't have to stay." + +"Did you make the team?" was Muriel's excited query. + +"Not yet." Harriet's eyes twinkled. "The try-out hasn't begun yet." + +"Hasn't begun!" echoed two voices. + +"No. Ellen was awfully cross about the way Miss Merton acted, so she +said we'd wait for Marjorie. Then, when Muriel didn't appear, she said, +that if neither of you materialized, she would have the try-out put off +until to-morrow. Miss Davis is so busy with that new system of +gymnastics she's going to adopt this year that she's left basket ball to +Ellen. I don't see how she could help herself, though. Last year the +juniors and seniors ran their own teams." + +"Ellen's a dear," exulted Muriel. "We are lucky to have her for manager. +Marjorie and I will be her grateful slaves for the rest of the year. I +wrote that note; so, naturally, I had to stay and face the music." + +"You did!" It was Harriet who now registered surprise. "What was in it?" + +Muriel giggled. She could now afford to laugh. "Oh, a lot of sweet +things about Miss Merton. You can guess just how sweet they were." + +"Goodness!" breathed Harriet. "No wonder Marjorie wouldn't give it up. +She--why, she's gone!" + +Marjorie had stopped only to greet Harriet. While Muriel was explaining +matters, she slipped away to the platform where Ellen Seymour sat. "It +was splendid in you, Ellen!" she burst forth, as she reached the +senior's side. "Thank you, ever so much." + +"Hurrah! Here's Marjorie." Ellen sprang up, her pleasant face breaking +into a smile. "I'm so glad you came at last, and so sorry for what +happened. You must tell me how you came out. But not now. We shall have +to hustle to make up for lost time. I suppose you know Miss Elbert and +Miss Horner. No?" Ellen promptly performed introductions. + +"Pleased to meet you," nodded both young women. Neither looked specially +delighted. Miss Elbert, a small, plump girl with near-sighted, gray +eyes, bowed in reserved fashion. Miss Horner, a rather pretty brunette, +acknowledged the introduction with languid grace. Marjorie had long +known both by sight. On two different occasions she had been introduced +to Miss Horner. Afterward, on meeting her in the street, the latter had +made no sign of recognition. + +"I suppose you are satisfied now, Ellen," drawled Miss Horner sweetly. +"You are lucky, Miss Dean, to have Ellen for a champion. She insisted +that we must wait for you." + +"I am very grateful to her," Marjorie made courteous reply. Had there +lurked a touch of sarcasm in the other's polite comment? + +"Miss Merton is altogether too fussy," remarked Miss Elbert. Her blunt +tone quite belied her reserved nod. "She tried that with me last year. +It didn't work, though." Her air of constraint vanished in a bright +glance, which indicated friendliness. + +"You must remember that she has a great deal to try her," reminded Miss +Horner softly. + +Again Marjorie thought she sensed hostility. She laid it to the +supposition that Miss Horner was, perhaps, a trifle peevish at being +delayed. Yet she could not resist the quiet comment, "Miss Merton is +also very trying." + +"Of course she is," agreed Ellen warmly. "You know it as well as we do, +Charlotte Horner. _You_ have no cause to love her. Just remember how +cranky she was to you during your freshman year." + +"That was a long time ago," shrugged the senior. "I understand her much +better now than then." The placid answer held a suspicion of +condescending approval of Miss Merton. + +"I'm glad someone does," flung back Ellen with careless good humor. +"Hurry along, Marjorie, and get into your basket ball suit. I shouldn't +have kept you talking." Drawing her aside, she whispered: "I'd rather +see you play center on the team than any girl I know." + +"It seems to me, Ellen," drawled Charlotte Horner, as her indolent gaze +followed Marjorie across the floor to the dressing room, "that you are +babying that Miss Dean entirely too much. Someone told me the other day +that she has a bad attack of swelled head. I must say, I think her +self-opinionated. She answered me very pertly." + +"If you mean her remark about Miss Merton, she only spoke the truth," +defended Ellen hotly, completely astonished by this unexpected attack on +Marjorie. "She is not in the least self-opinionated nor vain. It's +remarkable that she isn't. She is very pretty and awfully popular." + +"Glad you told me," murmured the other, lazily unbelieving. "I know +several girls with whom she is not particularly popular." + +To this Ellen made no response. With vexation at her own stupidity, she +now remembered too late that Charlotte Horner had always been rather +friendly with Mignon La Salle. Remembering only Charlotte's undeniable +prowess as a basket ball player, she had asked her to act with herself +and Leila Elbert as one of the three judges at the try-out. This +explained why Charlotte had not been in favor of postponing the try-out +in case Marjorie were detained indefinitely. Ellen found herself hoping +that personal prejudice would not influence Charlotte to decry +Marjorie's work on the floor. + +"I think Miss Dean is very nice." It was Leila Elbert who made this +announcement. Her reserved manner had arisen merely from shyness. She +was a quiet, diffident girl, who, beyond an enthusiasm for basket ball, +had mixed little with the social side of high school. She was an expert +player who had been on the same team with Ellen during her freshman, +sophomore and junior years. Accordingly, she was eminently fitted to +judge the merits of the respective contestants. + +"That's sweet in you." Ellen flashed her a grateful look. It would be +two against one in Marjorie's favor. + +Within ten minutes after seeking the dressing room Marjorie issued from +it ready for the fray, wearing her sophomore basket ball uniform. +Running up to Ellen she announced: "I am ready. So is Muriel." In a +lower tone she added: "It was dear in you to wish me well." Then she +trotted over and joined the contestants, who had gradually collected in +one spot. + +"All right." Ellen left the platform and approached the fruitful +material for junior honors. "Girls," she began, with an elaborate bow, +"behold your stern manager." + +She was interrupted by giggling applause. Cheerful Ellen Seymour was +beloved throughout Sanford High School. + +"Much obliged," she nodded gaily. "As I was saying when interrupted by +your heart-felt appreciation, _I_ am your manager. This year there will +be no senior team. The seniors have soared to heights beyond mere basket +ball. I had to soar with them, though I wasn't in a soaring mood. Since +I can't play the good old game alone, I've decided to bury my +disappointment in managership. Of course, you know that you can't all +play. So if you're not chosen, don't be disappointed. It's going to be +an absolutely fair try-out. If you're chosen, it is because you are a +better player than the girl who isn't. Now please line up until I count +you over." + +It was a nondescript line that whipped itself promptly into position. +There were the five gray-clad girls who had made up Mignon La Salle's +famous team. There were also the five black-garbed players who had +comprised Marjorie's squad. Besides these were ten new applicants in +blue gymnasium suits who had not been fortunate enough to make either of +the two teams that had striven against each other in the sophomore year. +These girls had decided to try again, hoping that better luck would be +theirs. + +Marjorie thrilled with excitement as she cast a quick glance up and down +the line. Every face was set in determined fashion. It was going to be +much harder than ever before to make the team. + +Ellen Seymour walked up and down the row of girls with the air of a +general. She was shrewdly calculating the best plan of action. It would +hardly be fair to try out the black and scarlet girls against the grays, +leaving the other ten of lesser experience to play against each other. +Among the new girls there was, undoubtedly, some excellent material +which contact with the regular players was sure to bring out. She, +therefore, chose five blues to play against two grays and three black +and scarlet girls. Mignon and Daisy Griggs represented the grays, +Marjorie, Susan and Harriet Delaney the black and scarlet. + +Clearing the floor of the others, Ellen signaled the two teams to their +places and soon had the ball in play. It seemed very strange to Marjorie +to find herself once more on the same team with Mignon La Salle. She was +too busy attending to her own affairs, however, to give it more than a +passing thought. Centering her whole mind on her work she played with +her usual snap and brilliancy. + +After twenty minutes' energetic work, the warning whistle sounded +retreat. Then the other ten girls remaining were ordered to the floor to +show what they could do. When, after the same allowance of time, they +had been called off, the three judges went into consultation with the +result that ten names were struck from the list Ellen held. These names +Ellen read out, expressing a regret for the failure of their owners to +make good that was in a measure quite consoling. They left the floor to +their more fortunate sisters apparently with the best possible grace, +considering the disappointment that was theirs. + +There were still left Susan, Muriel, Marjorie, Mignon, Daisy Griggs and +Anne Easton of the seasoned teams. The other were four of the blue-clad +girls who had done surprisingly well. These ten were again divided into +opposing fives and went at it with a will. + +T-r-ill! Ellen's whistle at last called an end to the spirited fray. The +girls pattered off the playing floor. Grouped together they breathlessly +awaited the verdict. + +This time it was longer in coming. Up on the judge's stand, Ellen +Seymour found herself participating in the wrangle with Charlotte +Horner, which she had anticipated. But Marjorie was not alone subject of +it. It was Mignon's basket ball future, too, that now tottered. Four +names had been struck off the list of ten. It lay between Mignon and +Marjorie Dean as to whom the fifth should be. + +"Mignon is a better player than this Dean girl," sharply argued +Charlotte Horner. "But poor Mignon simply wasn't up to her usual form +to-day." + +"But it's to-day that counts, else why have a try-out?" protested Ellen. +"Marjorie has completely outplayed her in this last test. I consider +Marjorie the better player at any time. She is reliable. Mignon isn't. I +insist that Marjorie shall have the position. I think she's the best +player of the whole team." + +"And _I_ insist that Mignon must have it." In her anger Charlotte forgot +her usual languid drawl. + +"It rests with Leila." Ellen shrugged her shoulders. "What is your +opinion, Leila?" + +"Miss Dean is the better player," declared Leila stolidly. "Anyone can +see that." + +"Two against one. The ayes have it." Ellen drew a firm pencil through +Mignon's name. + +And thus Marjorie Dean won a victory over Mignon La Salle, which was +destined to bring her a great deal of unhappiness. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII--UNSEEN; UNKNOWN; UNGUESSED + + +Outside the school building Jerry Macy and Irma Linton were holding a +patient vigil. Not permitted to witness the try-out they had declared +their intention of waiting across the street for their friends. +Confidently expecting that their wait would be long, they had set off +for Sargent's directly after school, there to while away at least a part +of the time. It was twenty minutes after four when they returned to the +school and determinedly perched themselves upon the top step of the long +flight where they proposed to remain stationed until the try-out should +be over. As ardent fans, they had a lively curiosity to know as soon as +possible the results of the contest. They were also deeply concerned as +to what had transpired between Marjorie and Miss Merton. + +"Good gracious!" grumbled Jerry, as she frowningly consulted her wrist +watch. "When do you suppose it will be over? It's half-past five now. I +hope----" + +"Hark!" Irma raised a warning hand. "I hear voices. Here they come at +last." + +As she spoke the heavy door behind her swung open. One after another the +contestants began issuing forth to unite into little groups as they +passed down the steps to the street. Jerry and Irma were now on their +feet eagerly watching for their friends. Jerry's shrewd power of +observation had already been put to good use. Thus far she glimpsed +defeat in the faces of those who passed. Among them was Mignon La Salle. +Her arm linked in that of Charlotte Horner, the French girl was carrying +on a low-toned monologue, the very nature of which could be read in the +stormy play of her lowering features. + +Jerry gave Irma a significant nudge as Mignon switched past them without +sign of recognition. Irma nodded slightly to show that she understood +its import. She, too, had guessed that Mignon had not made the team. + +"At last!" Jerry sighed relief, as Marjorie stepped across the +threshold, followed by Susan, Muriel and Daisy Griggs. "What's the good +word?" She hailed. + +"We are the real people," boasted Muriel Harding, a throbbing note of +triumph in her light tones. "Marjorie, Susan, Daisy and I made the team. +The fifth girl is Rita Talbot. She was the only one of the blues chosen. +Poor Harriet didn't make it. Neither did Esther. Harriet's been chosen +as a sub, though. She has that queer little green-eyed Warner girl. +She's such a quiet mouse, I never even dreamed she could play basket +ball. She can, though." Muriel rattled off all this, hardly stopping to +take breath. + +"So dear Miss Merton changed her mind," burst forth Jerry irrelevantly. +"How long did she keep you, Marjorie? What did she say?" They had now +progressed as far as the sidewalk and had halted there to talk. + +Marjorie entered into brief details, giving Muriel the lion's share of +credit for her blunt explanation to Miss Archer. "If Muriel hadn't +spoken so plainly, Miss Archer might not have seen things in the right +light," she ended. + +"Don't you believe it," disagreed Jerry. "Miss Archer knows Miss Merton +like a book. It's a real comfort to have a principal like her. Say, I'll +bet Mignon is so mad she can't see straight. You should have seen her +when she passed us. She was talking a blue streak to that Miss Horner. +She was one of the judges, wasn't she?" + +"Yes." Marjorie's face clouded at mention of the languidly spoken +senior. It now occurred to her that she had not been at fault in +believing that Charlotte Horner disliked her. No doubt Mignon was the +motive for her dislike. Like Ellen, she, too, tardily recalled that the +two had been occasionally seen together last year. It might account also +for the emphatic wagging of heads that had gone on among the three +judges before the final result of the try-out had been announced. + +"I suppose you are going to play the sophomores." Irma's soft intonation +brought Marjorie out of her brown study. + +"Of course." It was Daisy Griggs who answered. "They are to have their +try-out to-morrow afternoon. I don't believe we will be ready to play +them before November. We have a lot of practice ahead of us. We'll have +to have new suits, too. But we won't know until we have a meeting what +colors to choose. We ought to ask the subs what they'd like. We can't +very well go by the junior colors this year. They are deep crimson and +white, you know. We couldn't possibly have white suits with a crimson J, +and crimson suits wouldn't be pretty, either." + +"_I_ think they _would_," put in Muriel Harding stoutly. "We could have +our suits of a little darker crimson than the class color. They would be +stunning with a white J on the blouse and a wide, rolling collar of +white broadcloth. Besides, crimson is a victorious color. We'd just have +to win. It would be inspiring." + +"It sounds good to me," approved Susan. "They'd certainly be different +from any we've ever had. We could all put together and buy the cloth. +Then have them made by one person instead of each going to our own +dressmaker." + +"I think that would be nice," nodded Marjorie. "But we want to please +Daisy, too, so perhaps----" + +"Oh, I don't mind. Just so they aren't a glaring red," hastily amended +Daisy. "I suppose the subs will want to have new suits, too. We ought to +call a meeting of the team some time this week. That reminds me, we +don't know yet who is to be captain. You ought to be, Marjorie. I think +Ellen will ask you." + +"No." Marjorie shook a decided head. "To be given center is honor enough +for me. Girls, I'd love to have Muriel for captain. She'd be simply +splendid." + +"Oh, no, not me," protested Muriel in ungrammatical confusion. +Nevertheless, she flushed with pleasure at Marjorie's generous proposal. + +"That would be fine," asserted Susan Atwell heartily. She was not in the +least jealous because Marjorie had not proposed her for the honor. She +had long since learned that Marjorie Dean was incapable of showing +favoritism. She had selected Muriel strictly with the good of the team +in mind. + +"Let's ask Ellen if we can't have Muriel," said Daisy Griggs earnestly. + +"You see three of us are of the same mind," Marjorie pointed out with a +smile. "I know Rita will say so, too. But where are she and Harriet?" + +"Still in the gym, I guess, with Ellen. Harriet lives next door to +Ellen," reminded Susan. "They'll be along presently." + +"I can't wait for them," Marjorie demurred. "It's almost six. Captain +will wonder why I'm so late. Come on, Jerry and Irma," she called. Jerry +and Irma had wandered a little away from the group and were deeply +engaged in earnest discussion. "How many of you are going our way?" + +"I'm going to my aunt's for dinner," said Muriel. "So I'll say good-bye. +Daisy goes my way, too. See you to-morrow. Come along, Daisy." + +Left to themselves, Susan, Marjorie, Irma and Jerry swung off toward +home, four abreast. + +"See here, Marjorie," began Jerry. "You want to look out for Mignon. I +told you how mad she looked when she passed us. Irma saw, too. She'll +try to do something to get you off the team and herself on. See if she +doesn't." + +"I'm not going to bother my head about her," Marjorie made careless +reply. "She has never really hurt anyone she's tried to hurt since I've +known her. With Ellen Seymour managing the teams, we are all sure of +fair play." + +"Don't be too sure," muttered Jerry. She added in a louder tone, +"Ellen's not much protection with Mignon on the job. If she can't play, +she'll try to fix it so somebody else can't. Not you, perhaps. Anyway, +it won't do any harm for you to keep your eyes open." + +"Don't croak, Jeremiah." Marjorie laid a playful hand on Jerry's lips. +"Didn't I tell you long ago that I should not allow Mignon La Salle to +trouble me this year? I am going to keep at a safe distance from her." + +"I hope you stick to that," was Jerry's ungracious retort. Under her +breath she added, "but I doubt it." + +Jerry Macy's well-meant warning was destined, however, to come back most +forcibly to Marjorie no later than the following morning. As she ran +down the steps of her home and on down the walk on her way to school, +she encountered the postman at the gate. He handed her two letters, +which she received with a gurgle of girlish delight. On the top envelope +she had glimpsed Mary's familiar script. The gurgle changed to a +dismayed gasp as she examined the other. Only too quickly had she +recognized the handwriting. Shoving Mary's letter into the pocket of her +pretty tan coat, she hastily opened the other envelope. Her evil genius +had again come to life. A wave of hot resentment swept her as she +unfolded the one sheet of heavy white paper and read: + + "Miss Dean: + + "No doubt you think yourself very clever to have made the junior + team. You could never have done so had partiality not been shown. + Others at the try-out were much more worthy of the choice. You + believe because you can dress like a doll and are popular with a few + rattle-brained girls that everyone likes you. But you are mistaken. + A few persons, at least, know how vain and silly and deceitful you + are. You pretend to hate snobbery, but you are a snob. Some day + _everyone_ will know you for what you really are. The time is not + far off. Beware. + + "The Observer." + +Turning, Marjorie went slowly back to the house and climbed the stairs +to her room. Pausing before her desk, she opened it. From a pigeon-hole +she extracted another letter. Carefully she compared it with the one +that had come by post. Yes, they must have both emanated from the same +source. Stationery, writing and signature were unmistakable proofs. With +a sigh she shoved them both into the pigeon-hole. Who could her +mysterious enemy be? These letters were certainly of the variety she had +heard classed as "poison pen." + +Thus far she had flouted the idea of Mignon La Salle as the writer of +them. Now she was forced to wonder if she had been wrong. Was it +possible that Mignon had lurked outside Miss Archer's office on the +morning when she had solved the problem for Rowena Farnham? If this were +so, the letter Miss Archer had received might then be accredited to her, +as well as the two now in her desk. Barring Rowena Farnham, Marjorie +knew no one else who would be likely to engage in such a despicable +enterprise. If Mignon were guilty of this, Jerry Macy's warning had not +been an idle one. It, therefore, behooved her, Marjorie Dean, to be on +her guard. Yet how could she guard herself against a shadow, an enemy +unseen; unknown; unguessed? + + + + +CHAPTER XIV--A SOLDIER IN EARNEST + + +Absorbed in a vain attempt to find a clue to the mysterious prophesier +of evil, Marjorie forgot Mary Raymond's letter until she happened to +thrust a hand into her coat pocket on the way home from school at noon. +Mary's long, cheery epistle partially atoned for the hateful sentiments +expressed by the unknown. On her return home in the afternoon, a second +comforter was accorded her in a letter from Constance Stevens. The day +after Marjorie and Jerry had spent the evening at Gray Gables Mr. +Stevens had gone to New York. Constance had accompanied him. + +Since the great change had taken place in the girl's life her school +days had been more or less broken. Still she managed to keep up in her +classes despite frequent short absences from school. It was tacitly +understood, not only by Miss Archer, but also by Constance's other +teachers, that she intended to study for a grand opera dbut as soon as +her high school days were over. The mere possession of so remarkable a +voice as was hers rather set her apart in some indefinite fashion from +her schoolmates. Where others would have been taken to strict account +for absence, she was allowed an unusual amount of consideration. +Undoubtedly, the fact that when actually in school she invariably +acquitted herself with credit in her various studies had much to do with +the leniency accorded her. From a very humble person, she was rapidly +becoming a personage from whom Sanford expected one day to hear great +things. + +Marjorie Dean felt Constance's absences more keenly than anyone else. +She had been particularly lonesome for her friend during this latest +one, and the news that Constance would return to Sanford and to school +on the following week banished for the time the shadow of the morning's +unpleasant incident. + +"Constance will be home on Sunday, Captain," she caroled gleefully, as +she danced about the living room by way of expressing her jubilation. + +"I am glad to hear it. You really need the child to cheer you up. You've +been looking rather solemn lately, my dear. Aren't you happy in your +school? Sit down here and give an account of yourself," commanded Mrs. +Dean with a smile. + +"Oh, yes." The answer was accompanied by a faint sigh, as Marjorie +curled up on the floor beside her mother. "So far, this has been rather +a queer year, though. Nothing very pleasant has happened except basket +ball. That's always a joy. Our team is doing beautifully. We are to play +the sophomores on the Saturday before Thanksgiving. It's going to be a +real tussle. Ellen Seymour says there are some great players among the +sophs. You'll come to the game, Captain?" + +"I suppose I must. You consider me a loyal fan. That means I must live +up to my reputation. By the way, Lieutenant, did that girl who made you +so much trouble enter high school? You never told me." + +"You mean Rowena Farnham? Yes; she was allowed to try another set of +examinations. Jerry Macy said she won the chance by only one vote. +Jerry's father's a member of the Board. I wouldn't tell anyone else but +you, though, about that one vote. She is a sophomore now. I see her in +the study hall, but we never speak. The girls say she is quite popular +with the sophs. I suppose she's trying hard to make up her lost ground." +Marjorie's inflection was slightly bored. She felt that she had small +cause for interest in Rowena. She had never told her mother of the +latter's attack on herself and Jerry. She preferred not to think of it, +much less talk of it. To her it had seemed utterly senseless, as well as +cheap. + +"And how is Mignon La Salle doing?" questioned Mrs. Dean. "I haven't +heard you mention her, either. I must say I am very glad that you and +she are not likely to be thrown together again. Poor little Mary made a +bad mistake last year. It is wonderful that things ever worked out as +well as they did." Mrs. Dean's face grew stern as she recalled the +tangle in which Mary's obstinacy had involved her daughter. + +"Oh, Mignon has found a friend in Rowena Farnham. They go together all +the time. Jerry says they will soon fall out. I am sure they are welcome +to chum together, if they choose." Marjorie shrugged her shoulders as +though desirous of dismissing both girls from her thoughts. + +"Jerry is quite likely to be a true prophet," commented Mrs. Dean. "She +is a very wise girl, but decidedly slangy. I cannot understand why a +girl brought up in her surroundings should be so thoroughly addicted to +slang." + +"She's trying awfully hard not to use it." Recalling Jerry's recent +efforts to speak more elegant English, Marjorie laughed outright. "She's +so funny, Captain. If any other girl I know used slang as she does, I +wouldn't like it. But Jerry! Well, she's different. Next to Connie and +Mary I love her best of all my friends. I don't know what I'd do without +her." + +"She is a very fine girl, in spite of her brusque ways," praised Mrs. +Dean. "General is fond of her, too." She added this little tribute lest +Marjorie might feel that she had been unduly critical. She understood +the fact that Marjorie's friends were sacred to her and on that account +rarely found fault with them. Marjorie could be trusted to choose her +associates wisely. Those to whom her sympathies went out usually proved +themselves worthy of her regard. Motherly anxiety alone had prompted +Mrs. Dean to draw her daughter out with a view toward learning the cause +of Marjorie's recent air of wistful preoccupation. Daily it had become +more noticeable. If a repetition of last year's sorrows threatened her +only child, Mrs. Dean did not propose to be kept in the dark until it +became well-nigh impossible to adjust matters. + +Secretly Marjorie was aware of this anxiety on her mother's part. She +felt that she ought to show her Captain the sinister letters she had +received, yet she was loath to do so. Her mother's inquiry concerning +Mignon had caused her to reflect uneasily that now if ever was the +moment for unburdening her mind. "Captain," she began, "you know that +something is bothering me, don't you?" + +"Yes. I have been hoping you would tell me." Mrs. Dean laid an +encouraging hand on the drooping, brown head against her knee. + +"Wait a minute." Imbued with a desperate energy, Marjorie sprang to her +feet and ran from the room. She soon returned, the disturbing letters +clutched tightly in one hand. "I wish you to read these," she said. +Tendering them to her mother, she drew up a chair opposite Mrs. Dean and +sat down. + +Silence hung over the cheerful room while Mrs. Dean acquainted herself +with the cause of Marjorie's perturbation. Contempt filled her voice as +she finally said: "A most despicable bit of work, Lieutenant. The writer +had good reason to withhold her true name. So this explains the solemn +face you have been wearing of late. I wouldn't take it very deeply to +heart, my dear. Whoever wrote these letters must possess a most cowardly +nature." + +"That's just what I think," nodded Marjorie. "You see it really started +with the letter Miss Archer received. You know, the one about the +algebra problem. The only person I can really suspect of writing any of +them is Mignon. But she's not this sort of coward. Besides, I don't +believe she'd write just this kind of letter. What sort of person do you +think would, Captain?" + +Before answering, Mrs. Dean thoughtfully reread both letters. "It is +hard to say," she mused. "It looks to me as though the writer of them +might have been prompted by jealousy. The second one in particular is +full of jealous spite. I suppose you don't care to let Miss Archer see +them." + +"No." Marjorie shook a vehement head. "I'd rather worry through without +that. Perhaps there won't be any more of them. I hope not. Anyway, I'm +glad I told you about them. If another does come, I can bring it to you +and not feel so bad over it as if I had to think things out alone. Even +if I knew this very minute who wrote them, I don't know what I'd do +about it. It would depend upon who the girl was, whether or not I'd say +anything to her. It's all very mysterious and aggravating, isn't it?" +she added wistfully. + +"It's far worse than that." Mrs. Dean's lips set in a displeased line. +"Sanford High School appears to harbor some very peculiar girls. I can't +imagine any such thing happening to you at Franklin High. I don't like +it at all. If the rest of your junior year is going to be like this, you +might better go away to a good preparatory school." + +"Oh, Captain, don't say that!" Marjorie cried out in distress. "I +couldn't bear to leave you and General and Sanford High. I'd be terribly +unhappy away from home. Please say you didn't really mean that." Tears +lurked in her pleading tones. + +"Now, now, Lieutenant," came the soothing reply, "don't be so ready to +run out to meet calamity. I only suggested your going away as a means of +taking you out of these pits you seem always innocently to be tumbling +into. You know that General and I could hardly get along without our +girl. It is of your welfare I am thinking." + +Marjorie slipped to her mother's side and wound coaxing arms about her. +"I was afraid this would hurt you. That's why I hated to tell you. Don't +worry, Captain. Everything will come out all right. It always has, you +know. So long as I keep a clear conscience, nothing can really hurt me. +I hope I'm too good a soldier to be frightened, just because I've been +fired upon by an unseen enemy. If I ran away now I'd be a deserter, and +a deserter's a disgrace to an army. So you see there's only one thing to +do; stand by and stick fast to my colors. I've got to be a soldier in +earnest." + + + + +CHAPTER XV--AN UNWILLING FOLLOWER + + +Marjorie's confidential talk with her Captain brought to her a renewal +of faith in herself, which carried her along serenely through various +small difficulties which continually sprang up in her junior path. One +of them was Miss Merton, who seemed always on the watch for an +opportunity to belittle the girl she so detested. Still another was the +hostile interest Mignon La Salle had again begun to take in her. Hardly +a day passed without an angry recital on Jerry's part of something she +had heard against Marjorie, which had originally come from Mignon or +Rowena Farnham. Mignon's ally, Charlotte Horner, was an equal source for +provocation. Although she had no special right to do so, she often +dropped in on junior basket ball practice merely to find food for +adverse criticism of Marjorie. She watched the latter with a hawk-like +eye, only to go forth and make capital of any small imperfection in +Marjorie's playing, which she saw or fancied she saw. + +The fact that Rowena Farnham was a member of the sophomore team did not +add to Marjorie's happiness. She had no wish to come into such close +contact with her, which the approaching games between the two teams +would necessitate. From Jerry, the indefatigable news-gatherer, she had +learned that Rowena was a skilful, but rather rough player. Knowing her +to be utterly without scruple, Marjorie had small reason to believe she +could be trusted to play an absolutely fair game against her opponents. +Rowena was already becoming an insolent power in the sophomore class. +Her extreme audacity, coupled with her good looks and fine clothes, +brought her a certain amount of prestige in Sanford High School. She +possessed to a marked degree that impudent quality of daring, which is +so peculiarly fascinating to school girls. + +Although she was not sincerely liked she was admired and feared. She had +a fund of clever sayings at her command, which gave her a reputation for +brilliancy. The frequent reproof of her teachers rolled off her like +water from a duck's back. She made public sport of whomever she pleased, +whenever it pleased her to do so, with a conscienceless air of good +humor that rendered her a dangerous foe. She never hesitated to forge +her way to whatever she wanted, in a hail-fellow-well-met manner which +changed like a flash to insolence with the slightest opposition offered. +She was a bully of the first water, but with the glamor of her newness +still upon her, the worst side of her nature was yet to be revealed to +many. + +Marjorie Dean and Jerry Macy, at least, entertained no illusions +concerning her. Neither did Mignon La Salle. For once in her life, +Mignon was beginning to find herself completely overshadowed by a nature +far more hatefully mischievous than her own. True she was Rowena's most +intimate friend. Yet there were times when she inwardly regretted having +rushed blindly into such a friendship. Striving ever to rule, now she +was invariably overruled. Instead of being leader, she became follower. +Rowena criticized, satirized and domineered over her, all in the name of +friendship. Had she been anyone else, Mignon would not have borne long +with her bullying. She would have speedily put an end to their +association. Rowena, however, was one not thus easily to be dropped. In +Mignon she glimpsed powers for mischief-making only secondary to her +own. She preferred, therefore, to cling to her and was clever enough +never to allow Mignon's flashes of resentment against her +high-handedness to mature into open rebellion. Those who knew the French +girl for exactly what she was agreed that Mignon had at last met her +match. They also agreed that a taste of her own medicine would no doubt +do her a great deal of good. + +The approach of Thanksgiving also brought with it a stir of excitement +for the coming basket ball game, the first to be played in a series of +four, which were scheduled to take place at intervals in the school +year. The sophomore team had already played the freshman and given them +a complete white-washing. Now they were clamoring to meet the juniors +and repeat their victory. The junior team had attended the +freshman-sophomore game in a body, thereby realizing to the full the +strength of their opponents. Reluctantly, they were forced to admit the +brilliancy of Rowena Farnham as a player. She knew the game and she went +into it with a dash and vigor that marked her as a powerful adversary. +Naturally, it won her an admiration which she determined should grow and +deepen with each fresh achievement. + +Her doughty deeds on the floor of contest merely imbued the junior team +with stronger resolution to win the coming game. They practised with +stubborn energy, sedulously striving to overcome whatever they knew to +be their weak points. Though manager of all the teams, Ellen Seymour's +heart was secretly with them. This they felt rather than knew. +Outwardly, Ellen was impartial. She made them no show of favoritism, but +they divined that she would rejoice to see them win. There was no doubt +of the smoothness of their team work. Having played basket ball on the +freshman and sophomore teams, Marjorie Dean herself knew that the squad +of which she was now a member excelled any other of past experience. +Fairly confident that it could hold its own, she looked impatiently +forward to the hour of action. + +To set one's heart too steadfastly on a particular thing, seems +sometimes to court disappointment. On the Thursday before the game an +unexpected state of affairs came to pass. It started with a notice on +the bulletin board requesting the presence of the junior team in the +gymnasium at four o'clock that afternoon. It was signed "Ellen Seymour, +Manager." Naturally, the juniors thought little of it. They were +accustomed to such notices. Ellen, no doubt, had some special +communication to make that had to do with them. But when five minutes +after four saw them gathered in the gymnasium to meet their manager, her +sober face warned them that the unusual was afoot. + +"Girls, I have something to ask of you which you may not wish to do. I +am not going to urge you to do it. You are free to choose your own +course. As it especially concerns you, yours is the right to decide. Two +girls of the sophomore team are ill. Martha Tyrell has come down with +tonsilitis, and Nellie Simmons is threatened with pneumonia. Both are in +bed. They can't possibly play on Saturday. The sophs are awfully cut up +about it. They wouldn't mind using one sub, but two, they say, is one +too many. They have asked me to ask you if you are willing to postpone +the game until these girls are well again." + +"I don't see why we should," objected Captain Muriel Harding. "I don't +believe they'd do the same for us. Of what use are subs, if not to +replace absent players?" + +"That's what I think," put in Daisy Griggs. "It's too provoking. +Everyone is looking forward to the game. If we don't play we'll +disappoint a whole lot of people. It's very nervy in the sophs to ask us +to do such a thing. Besides, we are crazy to wear our new suits." + +Ellen smiled quizzically. "Remember, you are to do as you please about +it," was all she said, betraying neither pleasure or displeasure at the +ready protests. + +"I suppose the sophomores will think us awfully mean if we don't do as +they ask," ventured Rita Talbot. + +"Oh, let them think," declared Susan Atwell impatiently. "It's the first +time I ever heard of such a thing. They must be terribly afraid we'll +beat them." + +"That's just the point." At this juncture Marjorie broke into the +discussion. "If we insist on playing and win, they might say we won +because we had them at a disadvantage. That wouldn't be much of a +victory, would it?" + +"That's so." Muriel reluctantly admitted the force of Marjorie's +argument. "I know at least one of them who would say just that." + +"Mustn't be personal," gently chided Ellen. Nevertheless, there was a +twinkle in her blue eyes. The sophomore who had come to her had +insinuated what Marjorie had voiced. "I'll give you ten minutes to talk +it over. I promised to let the sophomores know to-night. The girl who +came to me is waiting in the senior locker room for your answer." + +"I'm ready to decide now," asserted Marjorie. "For my part I'm willing +to postpone the game." + +"We might as well," conceded Captain Muriel ruefully. Marjorie's point +had gone home. "If we win we want it to be a sweeping victory." + +One by one the three other interested parties agreed that it seemed best +to yield gracefully to the plea. + +"Now that you've all spoken I'm going to tell you my opinion," announced +Ellen. "I am glad that you are willing to do this. It becomes you as +juniors. No one can say that you have been anything but strictly +generous. You deserve a crown of victory for being so nice about this." + +Ellen's conclusion brought a smile to five faces. Her remark might be +construed as a declaration of favor toward them. + +"I believe you'd love to see us win the whole four games, Ellen +Seymour," was Muriel's frank comment. + +"As your august manager, my lips are sealed," Ellen retorted laughingly. +"Now I must leave you and put an anxious sophomore out of her misery. +While you are waiting for the sick to get well you can put in some more +practice." With this injunction she left them. + +Once out of the gymnasium, her smile vanished. The anxious sophomore was +Rowena Farnham. Ellen cherished small liking for this arrogant, +self-centered young person whose request had been more in the nature of +a command. Personally, she had not favored putting off the game. Had +illness befallen a member or members of any team on which she had +formerly played, no such favor would have been asked. Nothing short of +incapacitation of the whole squad would have brought forth a stay in +activities. Yet as manager she was obliged to be strictly impersonal. +True, she might have exercised her authority and herself made the +decision. But she had deemed the other way wisest. + +On entering the senior locker room she was still more annoyed to find +Mignon La Salle with Rowena. If Ellen disliked the latter, she had less +love for the tricky French girl. "Birds of a feather," she mentally +styled them as she coldly bowed to Mignon. Her chilly recognition was +not returned. Mignon had not forgiven her for the try-out. + +"Well, what's the verdict?" inquired Rowena, satirically pleasant. Her +manner toward dignified Ellen verged on insolence. + +"The junior team are willing to postpone the game," informed Ellen +briefly. She intended the interview to be a short one. + +"They know on which side their bread is buttered," laughed the other +girl. "I suppose they weren't specially delighted. Did they make much +fuss before they gave in?" + +"As I have delivered my message, I will say 'good afternoon,'" Ellen +returned stiffly. + +"Don't be in too much of a hurry," drawled Rowena. "When I ask a +question, I expect an answer." + +"Good afternoon." Ellen wheeled and walked calmly from the locker room. +Rowena's expectations were a matter of indifference to the disgusted +manager. She, at least, was not to be bullied. + +Mignon La Salle laughed unpleasantly. "You were foolish to waste your +breath on her." She wagged her black head in the direction of the door, +which had just closed behind Ellen. "You didn't impress her _that_ +much." She snapped her fingers significantly. + +Smarting under the dignified snubbing Ellen had administered, Rowena +hailed Mignon as an escape valve. "You keep your remarks to yourself," +she blustered. "How dare you stand there laughing and snapping your +fingers? No wonder people say you're two-faced and tricky. You're so +deceitful you don't know your own mind. One minute you come whining to +me about this Seymour snip, the next you take sides with her." + +"I wasn't standing up for her and you know it," muttered Mignon. As +always, Rowena's brutally expressed opinion of herself had a vastly +chastening effect on the designing French girl. Rowena never minced +matters. She delivered her remarks straight from the shoulder, +indifferent to whether they pleased or displeased. Mignon's disregard +for sincerity and honor suited her admirably. She was equally devoid of +these virtues. Mignon made an excellent confederate. Still, she had to +be kept in her place. Her very love of subtle intrigue made plain +speaking abhorrent to her. On occasions when Rowena mercilessly held +before her the mirror of truth, she invariably retired in confusion. At +the same time she entertained a wholesome respect for the one who thus +dared to do it. This explained to a great extent the strong influence +which Rowena exerted over her. She was not happy in this new friendship. +More than once she had meditated ending it. Fear of the other's furious +retaliation was a signal preventative. Rowena, as a friend, was greatly +to be preferred to Rowena as an enemy. + +As she sulkily viewed the Titian-haired tyrant, who knew her too well +for her own peace of mind, she wondered why she had not flung back taunt +for taunt. Perhaps Rowena made a shrewd guess regarding her thoughts. +Adopting a milder tone she said brusquely: "Oh, quit pouting and come +along. None of these stupid girls are worth quarreling over. I suppose +that Marjorie Dean, the big baby, told Miss Seymour something hateful +about me. That's the reason she acted so frosty." + +At the mere mention of Marjorie's name Mignon's elfish face grew dark. +She and Rowena had at least one bond in common, they both despised +Marjorie Dean. Mignon reflected that no scheme she had devised for +humbling the former had ever borne lasting fruit. Rowena might succeed +where she had failed. Rowena had sworn reprisal for the affair of the +algebra problem. Undoubtedly, she would seize upon the first opportunity +for retaliation. With such a glorious prospect ahead of her, Mignon +craftily decided to stick to Rowena and share in her triumph. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI--A TINY CLUE + + +The end of the week following Thanksgiving brought the two temporarily +disabled sophomore basket ball players back to school. The day after +their return a notice appeared on the bulletin board stating that the +junior-sophomore game would be played on the next Saturday afternoon. +From all sides it received profound approbation and the recent +postponement of the contest served to give it greater importance. The +sophomore team had been highly delighted with the respite, and +gratefully accorded the credit to Rowena Farnham, who reveled in her +sudden advance in popularity. + +The juniors had little to say to the world at large. Among themselves +they said a great deal. One and all they agreed that the victory of the +coming game must be theirs. They yearned to show the public that in +postponing the game they had merely postponed the glory of winning it. +Though they knew the strength of the opposing team, they confidently +believed themselves to be even stronger. How it happened, none of them +were quite able to explain, but when the fateful hour of conflict +arrived the victor's crown was wrested from them. A score of 18-16 in +favor of the sophomores sent them off the field of defeat, crestfallen +but remarkably good-natured, considering the circumstances. + +Behind the closed door of their dressing-room, with the jubilant shouts +of the sophomores still ringing in their ears, they proceeded to take +stock of themselves and their triumphant opponents. + +"There is no use in talking, that Rowena Farnham is a wonderful player," +was Muriel Harding's rueful admission. "She could almost have won the +game playing alone against us." + +"She's a very rough player," cried Daisy Griggs. "She tears about the +floor like a wild Indian. She gave me two or three awful bumps." + +"Still, you can't say she did anything that one could make a fuss +about," said Rita Talbot slowly. "I guess she's too clever for that." + +"That's just it," chimed in Susan Atwell crossly. "She's as sharp as a +needle. She goes just far enough to get what she wants without getting +into trouble by it. Anyway, they didn't win much of a victory. If that +last throw of Marjorie's hadn't missed the basket we'd have tied the +score. It's a pity the game ended right there. Three or four minutes +more were all we needed." + +"I was sure I'd make it," declared Marjorie rather mournfully, "but a +little before, in that big rush, I was shoved forward by someone and +nearly fell. I made a slide but didn't quite touch the floor. All my +weight was on my right arm and I felt it afterward when I threw the +ball." + +"Who shoved you forward? That's what I'd like to know," came +suspiciously from Susan. "If----" + +"Oh, it wasn't anyone's fault," Marjorie hastened to assure her. "It was +just one of those provoking things that have to happen." + +"Listen to those shrieks of joy," grumbled Muriel, as a fresh clamor +began out in the gymnasium. "Oh, why didn't we beat them?" + +"Never mind," consoled Marjorie. "There'd be just as much noise if we +had won. You can't blame them. Next time it will be our turn. We've +still three more chances. Now that we've played the sophs once, we'll +know better what to do when we play them again. We really ought to go +out there and congratulate them. Then they would know that we weren't +jealous of them." + +"I'd just as soon congratulate a big, striped tiger as that Rowena +Farnham. She makes me think of one. She has that cruel, tigerish way +about her. Ugh! I can't endure that girl." Muriel Harding made a gesture +of abhorrence. + +"Come in," called Marjorie as four loud knocks beat upon the door. "It's +Jerry, Connie and Irma," she explained, as the door opened to admit the +trio. + +"Better luck next time," cheerfully saluted Jerry Macy. "You girls +played a bang-up, I mean, a splendid game. I was sure you'd tie that +score. You had a slight accident, didn't you, Marjorie?" + +"Yes. Did you notice it?" Marjorie glanced curiously at Jerry's +imperturbable face. + +"I always notice everything," retorted Jerry. "I hope----" + +Marjorie flashed her a warning look. "It wasn't anything that could be +avoided," she answered with a finality that Jerry understood, if no one +else did. "I move that we go down to Sargent's and celebrate our +defeat," she quickly added. "Have a seat, girls. It won't take us long +to get into our everyday clothes." + +"Such a shame," bewailed Daisy Griggs. "After we've gone to the trouble +of having these stunning suits made, then we have to be robbed of a +chance to parade around the gym as winners. Anyway, they're a whole lot +prettier than the sophs' suits. I didn't like that dark green and blue +they had as well as ours." + +"They stuck to the sophomore colors, though," reminded Rita. "It's a +wonder that Rowena Farnham didn't appear in some wonderful creation that +had nothing to do with class colors. It would be just like her." + +Despite their regret over losing the game, the defeated team, +accompanied by Jerry, Constance, Irma and Harriet Delaney, who +afterwards dropped in upon them, set off for the all-consoling Sargent's +in fairly good humor, there to spend not only a talkative session, but +their pocket money as well. + +It was not until Jerry, Constance and Marjorie had reluctantly torn +themselves from their friends to stroll homeward through the crisp +December air that Jerry unburdened herself with gusto. + +"Marjorie Dean," she began impetuously, "do you or don't you know why +you nearly fell down in that rush?" + +"I know, of course," nodded Marjorie. "Someone swept me forward and I +almost lost my balance. It's happened to me before. What is it that you +are trying to tell me, Jerry?" + +"That someone was Row-ena," stated Jerry briefly. "Isn't that so, +Connie?" + +"It looked that way," Connie admitted. "I thought she played very +roughly all through the game." + +"If it were she, I don't believe she did it purposely," responded +Marjorie. "Even if she did, I'm not going to worry about it. I rather +expected she might. Mignon used to do that sort of thing. You remember +what a time we had about it last year. But her team and ours were +concerned in it. That's why I took it up. As it was only I to whom it +happened this time, I shall say nothing. I don't wish to start trouble +over basket ball this year. If I spoke of it to Ellen she would take it +up. You know what Rowena Farnham would say. She'd declare it was simply +a case of spite on my part. That I was using it only as an excuse for +not being able to throw that last ball to basket. Then she'd go around +and tell others that we were whining because we were beaten in a fair +fight. I might better say nothing at all. The only thing for us to do is +to keep our own counsel and win the next game." + +"I guess your head is level," was Jerry's gloomy admission. She was as +much distressed over their defeat as were the juniors themselves. + +"Marjorie's head is _always_ level," smiled Constance Stevens. "I am +almost certain that you girls will win the next game. Luck just happened +to be with the sophomores to-day. I don't think they work together as +well as you. Miss Farnham is a much better player than the others. +Still, I imagine that she might not always do so well as she did in this +game. If she saw that things were going against her, she would be quite +likely to get furiously angry and lose her head." Quiet Constance had +been making a close study of Rowena during the game. Raised in the hard +school of experience, she had considerable insight into character. She +seldom criticized openly, but when she did, her opinions were received +with respect. + +"Your head's on the same level plane with Marjorie's, Connie," agreed +Jerry. "I think, too, that Rowena Farnham would be apt to make blunders +if she got good and mad. Speaking of getting mad reminds me that Lucy +Warner is pouting about those suits of ours. She told Harriet to-day +that she thought they were simply hideous. Harriet said that she +wouldn't go in with you girls when you ordered them. She considered them +a waste of money. Said if she had one, she'd never get a chance to wear +it. Pleasant young person, isn't she?" + +"Perhaps she couldn't afford to have one," remarked Constance +thoughtfully. "You know her mother is a widow and supports the two of +them by doing plain sewing. I imagine they must be quite poor. They live +in a tiny house on Radcliffe Street, and Lucy never goes to even the +high school parties, or to Sargent's, or any place that costs money. She +is a queer little thing. I've tried ever so many times to be nice to +her, but she always snubs me. Maybe she thinks I'm trying to patronize +her. I can't help feeling sorry for her. You see I know so well what it +means to be very poor--and proud," ended Constance, flushing. + +"She's a born grouch," asserted Jerry. "She's been one ever since I've +known her. Even in grammar school she was like that. She's always had a +fixed idea that because she's poor everyone looks down on her. It's too +bad. She's very bright in her studies, and she'd be quite pretty if she +didn't go around all the time looking ready to bite." + +"Isn't it funny?" mused Marjorie. "I've never noticed her particularly +or thought much about her until she made the team as a sub. Since then +I've tried several times to talk to her. Each time she has acted as +though she didn't like to have me speak to her. I thought maybe she +might be a friend of Mignon's. But I suppose it's just because she feels +so ashamed of being poor. As if that mattered. We ought to try to make +her think differently. She must be terribly unhappy." + +"I doubt it," contradicted Jerry. "Some people enjoy being miserable. +Probably she's one of that sort. As I said before, 'it's too bad.' +Still, one doesn't care to get down on one's knees to somebody, just +because that somebody hates herself. She can't expect people are going +to like her if she keeps them a mile away from her." + +"You are both right," commented Constance. "She ought to be made to +understand that being poor isn't a crime. But you can't force that into +her head. The only way to do is to wait until a chance comes to prove it +to her. We must watch for the psychological moment." Her droll utterance +of the last words set her listeners to giggling. Miss Merton was prone +to dwell upon that same marvelous psychological moment. + +That evening, as Marjorie diligently studied her lessons, the queer, +green-eyed little junior again invaded her thoughts. A vision rose of +her thin, white face with its pointed chin, sensitive, close-lipped +mouth, and wide eyes of bluish-green that frequently changed to a +decided green. What a curious, secretive face she had. Marjorie wondered +how she had happened to pass by so lightly such a baffling personality. +She charitably determined to make up for it by learning to know the true +Lucy Warner. She upbraided herself severely for having been so selfish. +Absorbed in her own friends, she had neglected to think of how much +there was to be done to make the outsiders happy. + +Entering the study hall on Monday morning she cast a swift glance toward +Lucy's desk. She was rather surprised to note that the blue-green eyes +had come to rest on her at the same instant. Marjorie smiled and nodded +pleasantly. The other girl only continued to stare fixedly at her, but +made no answering sign. Forewarned, Marjorie was not specially concerned +over this plain snub. She merely smiled to herself and decided that the +psychological moment had evidently not yet arrived. + +Slipping into her seat she was about to slide her books into place on +the shelf under her desk, when one hand came into contact with something +that made her color rise. She drew a sharp breath as she brought it to +light. So the Observer was at work again! With a sudden, swift movement +of her arm she shoved her find back to cover. Casting a startled look +about the study hall, she wondered if whoever had placed it there were +now watching her. Strangely enough, the only pair of eyes she caught +fastened upon her belonged to Mignon La Salle. In them was a light of +brooding scorn, which plainly expressed her opinion of Marjorie. + +"Could Mignon be the mysterious Observer?" was again the question that +assailed Marjorie's mind. She longed to read the letter, but her pride +whispered, "not now." She would save it until school was over for the +day. She and Captain would read it together in the living room. + +It was a long, weary day for the impatient little girl. At noon she +carried the dread missive home with her, gravely intrusting it to her +Captain's keeping. "It's another stab from the Observer," she explained +soberly. "I haven't opened it. We will read it together when I come home +this afternoon. I don't care to read it now." + +She returned home that afternoon to find her mother entertaining +callers. Despite her feverish impatience to have the thing over, she was +her usual charming self to her mother's friends. Nevertheless, she +sighed with relief when she saw them depart. Seating herself on the +davenport she leaned wearily against its cushioned back. The suspense of +not knowing had told severely upon her. + +"Now, Lieutenant, I think we are ready," said Mrs. Dean cheerily. Taking +the letter from a drawer of the library table, she sat down beside +Marjorie and tore open the envelope. Her head against her Captain's +shoulder, Marjorie's eyes followed the Observer's latest triumph in +letter writing: + + "Miss Dean: + + "Last Saturday showed very plainly that you could not play basket + ball. I knew this long ago. Several others must now know it. It + would serve you right if you were asked to resign from the team. If + you had been thinking less about yourself and more about the game, + you might have tied the score and not disgraced the juniors. You are + a menace to the team and ought to be removed from it. As I am not + alone in this opinion, I imagine and sincerely hope that you will + soon receive your dismissal. If you had any honor in you, you would + resign without waiting to be asked. But remember that a coward is + soon worsted in the fight. Prepare to meet the inevitable. + + "The Observer." + +Without speaking, Marjorie turned again to the first page of the letter, +re-reading thoughtfully the entire communication. "This letter tells me +something which the others didn't," she said. + +"It tells me that it is high time to stop such nonsense." Mrs. Dean's +tones conveyed righteous indignation. "The whole thing is simply +outrageous." + +"It can't be stopped until we know who is writing these letters," +reminded Marjorie. "But I think I have a tiny clue. That sentence about +disgracing the juniors would make it seem that a junior wrote them. No +one would mention it who wasn't a junior. I've tried not to believe it, +but now I am almost certain that Mignon wrote them. She would like more +than anyone else to see me lose my place on the team. Yes, Mignon and +the Observer must be very closely related." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII--IN TIME OF NEED + + +Three days later Marjorie's theory seemed destined to prove itself +correct. Ellen Seymour came to her, wrath in her eye. "See here, +Marjorie," she burst forth impulsively, "if Miss Davis sends for you to +meet her in the gym after school, let me know. I'm going there with you. +Yesterday while you girls were at practice she stood there watching you. +Do you remember?" + +"Yes. I noticed her. She stared at me so hard she made me nervous and I +played badly. She has always had that effect on me. Last year when she +managed the team she was fond of watching me. She used to criticize my +playing, too, and call out one thing to me just when I knew I ought to +do another. She was awfully fussy. I hope she isn't going to begin it +again this year. I thought she had left everything to you." + +"So did I," retorted Ellen grimly. "It seems she hasn't. Someone, you +can guess who, went to her after the game and said something about your +playing. She came to me and said: 'I understand there is a great deal of +dissatisfaction on the part of the juniors over Miss Dean's being on the +junior team.' You can imagine what I said. When I saw her in the gym +after school I knew she had an object. But leave things to me. I know a +way to stop her objections very quickly. If she sends for you, go +straight to the junior locker room from the study hall and wait there +for me. If she doesn't send for you, then you'll know everything is all +right. Remember now, don't set foot out of that locker room until I come +for you." With this parting injunction Ellen hurried off, leaving +Marjorie a victim to many emotions. + +So the Observer's, or rather Mignon's, prophesy bordered on fulfillment. +Mignon and the few juniors who still adhered to the La Salle standard +had made complaint against her to Miss Davis in the name of the junior +class. As a friend of Miss Merton, Miss Davis had always favored the +French girl. Last year it had been whispered about that her motive in +creating a second sophomore team had arisen from her wish to help +Mignon's fortunes along. No doubt she had been very glad to listen to +this latest appeal on Mignon's part. + +But Marjorie was only partially correct in her conclusions. Though it +was, indeed, true that Mignon had besieged Miss Davis with a plea that +Marjorie be removed from the team, no other member of the junior class +had accompanied her. She was flanked by the far more powerful allies, +Charlotte Horner and Rowena Farnham. The plan of attack had originated +in Rowena's fertile brain as the result of a bitter outburst against +Marjorie on Mignon's part. It was directly after the game that she had +stormed out her grievances to Rowena and Charlotte. Personally, Rowena +cared little about Mignon's woes. Her mischief-making faculties were +aroused merely on Marjorie's account. Had it been Susan, or Muriel +against whom Mignon raved she would have laughed and dubbed her friend, +"a big baby." But Marjorie--there was a chance to even her score. + +"You just let me manage this," Rowena had declared boastfully. "This +Miss Davis is easy. She's a snob. So is Miss Merton. If they weren't +they'd have put you in your place long ago. They can see through you. +It's money that counts with both of them. I've made it a point right +along to be nice to Miss Davis. In case that frosty Miss Seymour tried +to make trouble for me, I knew I needed a substantial backing. Now I'll +ask her to my house to dinner to-morrow night. If she can't come, so +much the better for me. If she can, so much the better for you. Of +course you'll be there, too. Then we'll see what we can do. You ought to +be very grateful to me. I expect she'll bore me to death. I'm only doing +it for your sake." + +Rowena was too crafty not to hang the heavy mantle of obligation on +Mignon's shoulders. Thus indebted to her, Mignon would one day be +reminded of the debt. As a last perfect touch to her scheme she had +shrewdly included Charlotte Horner in the invitation. Providentially for +Mignon, Miss Davis had no previous engagement. So it fell about that +Rowena became hostess to three guests. At home a young despot, who +bullied her timid little mother and coaxed her indulgent father into +doing her will, she merely announced her intention to entertain at +dinner and let that end it. The final results of that highly successful +dinner party were yet to be announced. + +Unwittingly, however, Miss Davis had blundered. In order to strengthen +her case she had purposely complained of Marjorie to Ellen Seymour. +Knowing nothing of Ellen's devotion to the pretty junior, she had not +dreamed that Ellen would set the wheels in motion to defeat her. She was +in reality more to be pitied than blamed. Of a nature which accepted +hearsay evidence, declining to go below the surface, it is not to be +wondered at that Rowena's clever persuasion, backed by Mignon's and +Charlotte's able support, caused her to spring to the French girl's aid. +She was one of those aggravating persons who refuse to see whatever they +do not wish to see. She was undoubtedly proficient in the business of +physical culture. She was extremely inefficient in the art of reading +girls. Sufficient unto herself, she, therefore, felt no compunction in +sending forth the word that should summon Marjorie to the gymnasium, +there to be deprived of that which she had rightfully earned. + +Like many other days that had come to poor Marjorie since the beginning +of her junior year, suspense became the ruling power. Two things she +knew definitely. Ellen Seymour was for her. Miss Davis against her. The +rest she could only guess at, losing herself in a maze of troubled +conjecture. Judge her surprise when on reaching the locker room, she +found not only Ellen awaiting her, but her teammates as well. They had +made a most precipitate flight from the study hall in order to be in the +locker room when she arrived. + +"Why, Ellen! Why, girls!" she stammered. A deeper pink rushed to her +cheeks; a mist gathered in her eyes as she realized the meaning of their +presence. They had come in a body to help her. + +"We're here because we're here," trilled Captain Muriel Harding. "In a +few minutes we'll be in the gym. Then someone else will get a surprise. +Are we ready to march? I rather think we are. Lead the procession, +Ellen." + +"Come on, Marjorie, you and I will walk together. Fall in, girls. The +invincible sextette will now take the trail." + +Amid much laughter on their part and openly curious glances from +constantly arriving juniors who wondered what was on foot, the six girls +had swung off down the corridor before the curious ones found +opportunity to relieve their curiosity. + +"She's not here yet," commented Susan, as they entered the place of +tryst. "Isn't that too bad. I hoped she'd be on hand to see the mighty +host advancing." + +"Here she comes," warned Rita Talbot. "Now, for it." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII--DOING BATTLE FOR MARJORIE + + +Two spots of angry color appeared high up on Miss Davis's lean face as +she viewed the waiting six. It came to her that she was in for a lively +scene. Setting her mouth firmly, she approached them. Addressing herself +to Marjorie, she opened with: "I sent for _you_, Miss Dean; not your +friends." + +"I asked these girls to come here." Ellen Seymour turned an unflinching +gaze upon the nettled instructor. + +"Then you may invite them into one of the dressing rooms for a time. My +business with Miss Dean is strictly personal." + +"I am quite willing that my friends should hear whatever you have to say +to me." Marjorie's brown head lifted itself a trifle higher. + +"But _I_ am not willing that they should listen," snapped Miss Davis. + +"Then I must refuse to listen, also," flashed the quick, but even +response. + +"This is sheer impudence!" exclaimed Miss Davis. "I sent for you and I +insist that you must stay until I give you permission to go. As for +these girls----" + +"These girls will remain here until Marjorie goes," put in Ellen, +admirably self-controlled. "Everyone of them knows already why you wish +to see Marjorie Dean. She knows, too. We have come to defend her. I, for +one, say that she _shall not_ be dismissed from the team. Her teammates +say the same. It is unfair." + +"Have I said that she was to be dismissed from the team?" demanded Miss +Davis, too much irritated to assert her position as teacher. Ellen's +blunt accusation had robbed her of her usual show of dignity. + +"Can you say that such was not your intention?" cross-questioned Ellen +mercilessly. + +Miss Davis could not. She looked the picture of angry guilt. "I shall +not answer such an impertinent question," she fumed. "You are all +dismissed." Privately, she determined to send for Marjorie the next day +during school hours. + +"Very well." Ellen bowed her acceptance of the dismissal. "Shall we +consider the matter settled?" + +"Certainly not." The words leaped sharply to the woman's lips. Realizing +she had blundered, she hastily amended. "There is no matter under +consideration between you and me." + +"Whatever concerns Marjorie's basket ball interests, concerns me. If you +send for her again she will not come to you unless we come with her. Am +I not right?" She appealed for information to the subject of the +discussion. + +"You are," was the steady reply. + +"This is simply outrageous." Miss Davis completely lost composure. "Do +you realize all of you that you are absolutely defying your teacher? +Miss Dean deserves to be disciplined. After such a display of +discourtesy I refuse to allow her the privilege of playing on the junior +basket ball team." Miss Davis continued to express herself, unmindful of +the fact that Muriel Harding had slipped away from the group and out of +the nearest door. Her temper aroused she held forth at length, ending +with: "This disgraceful exhibition of favoritism on your part, Miss +Seymour, shows very plainly that you are not fitted to manage basket +ball in this school. I shall replace you as manager to-morrow. You, Miss +Dean, are dismissed from the junior team. I shall report every one of +you to Miss Archer as soon as I leave the gymnasium." + +"I believe she is on her way here now," remarked Ellen with satirical +impersonality. "Muriel went to find her and ask her to come." + +"What!" Miss Davis betrayed small pleasure at this news. Quickly +recovering herself she ordered: "You may go at once." + +"Here she is." Ellen nodded toward a doorway through which the principal +had just entered, Muriel only a step behind her. The senior manager's +eyes twinkled satisfaction. + +"What seems to be the trouble here, Miss Davis?" The principal came +pithily to the point. + +"I have been insulted by these disrespectful girls." Miss Davis waved a +hand toward the defending sextette. + +"That is news I do not relish hearing about my girls. I wish every +teacher in this school to be treated with respect. Kindly tell me what +reason they gave for doing so." + +"I sent for Miss Dean on a personal matter. She insisted on bringing +these girls with her. I requested them to leave me alone with Miss Dean. +They refused to do so. I dismissed them all, intending to put off my +interview with Miss Dean until to-morrow. Miss Seymour took it upon +herself to tell me that Miss Dean would not come to me to-morrow unless +accompanied by herself and these girls. Miss Dean declared the same +thing. Such conduct is unendurable." + +"These young women must have strong reason for such peculiar conduct, or +else they have overstepped all bounds," decided Miss Archer impassively. +"What have you to say for yourself, Ellen? As a member of the senior +class I shall expect a concise explanation." + +"We have a very strong reason for our misbehavior." Ellen put a +questioning inflection on the last word. "Briefly explained, it is this. +Miss Davis has been influenced by certain persons to dismiss Marjorie +Dean from the junior basket ball team. Because the juniors lost the game +the other day by two points, the blame for it has been unjustly placed +upon Marjorie. At practice yesterday she did not play as well as usual. +These are, apparently, the very shaky causes for her dismissal. I shall +not attempt to tell you the true reasons. They are unworthy of mention. +As her manager I refused to countenance such unfairness. So did her +teammates. They will agree with me when I say that Marjorie is one of +the best players we have ever had at Sanford High. We are all in +position to say so. We know her work. So we came with her to defend her. +I admit that we took a rather stiff stand with Miss Davis. There was no +other way." + +"What are your reasons for dismissing Miss Dean from the team?" Still +impassive of feature, the principal now addressed Miss Davis. + +"I have received complaints regarding her work," came the defiant +answer. + +"According to Ellen these complaints did not proceed from either herself +or her teammates. If not from them, whom could it interest to make +complaint?" continued the inexorable questioner. + +"The members of the junior class are naturally interested in the team +representing them," reminded Miss Davis tartly. + +"How many members of the junior class objected to Miss Dean as a +player?" relentlessly pursued Miss Archer. + +Miss Davis grew confused. "I--they--I decline to talk this matter over +with you in the presence of these insolent girls," she hotly rallied. + +"A word, girls, and you may go. I am greatly displeased over this +affair. Since basket ball seems to be such a trouble-breeder, it might +better be abolished in this school. I may decide to take that step. +Desperate diseases require desperate remedies. You will hear more of +this later. That will be all at present." + +With the feeling that the gymnasium roof was about to descend upon them, +the six girls quitted the battlefield. + +"Don't you ever believe Miss Archer will stop basket ball," emphasized +Muriel Harding when they were well down the corridor. "She knows every +single thing about it. I told her in the office. I told her, too, that I +knew Rowena Farnham and Charlotte Horner were mixed up in it. They've +had their heads together ever since the game." + +"I would have resigned in a minute, but I just couldn't after the way +you girls fought for me," Marjorie voiced her distress. "If Miss Archer +stops basket ball it will be my fault. I'm sorry I ever made the team." + +"You couldn't help yourself." Ellen Seymour was rapidly regaining her +cheerfulness. "Don't think for a minute that Miss Davis will be able to +smooth things over. Miss Archer is too clever not to recognize +unfairness when she meets it face to face. And don't worry about her +stopping basket ball. Take my word for it. She won't." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX--WHAT JERRY MACY "DUG UP" + + +As Ellen Seymour had predicted, basket ball did not receive its quietus. +But no one ever knew what passed between Miss Archer and Miss Davis. The +principal also held a long session with Ellen, who emerged from her +office with a pleased smile. To Marjorie and her faithful support Ellen +said confidentially: "It's all settled. No one will ever try to shove +Marjorie off the team while Miss Archer is here. But basket ball is +doomed, if anything else like that ever comes up. Miss Archer says so." +Strangely enough the six girls were not required to apologize to Miss +Davis. Possibly Miss Archer was not anxious to reopen the subject by +thus courting fresh rebellion. After all, basket ball was not down on +the high school curriculum. She was quite willing her girls should be at +liberty to manage it as they chose, provided they managed it wisely and +without friction. Privately, she was disgusted with Miss Davis's part in +the recent disagreement. She strongly advised the former to give up all +claim to the management of the teams. But this advice Miss Davis refused +to take. She still insisted on keeping up a modified show of authority, +but resolved within herself to be more careful. She had learned +considerable about girls. + +The three plotters accepted their defeat with bad grace. Afraid that the +tale would come to light, Mignon and Charlotte privately shoved the +blame on Rowena's shoulders. Nothing leaked out, however, and they were +too wise to censure Rowena to her face. Mignon soon discovered that the +obliging sophomore's efforts in her behalf had cost her dear. Rowena +tyrannized over her more than ever. After the second game between the +junior and sophomore teams, which occurred two weeks after Marjorie's +narrow escape from dismissal from the team, Mignon came into the belief +that her lot was, indeed, hard. The sophomores had been ingloriously +beaten, the score standing 22-12 in favor of the juniors. In consequence +Rowena was furious, forcing Mignon to listen to her long tirades against +the juniors, and rating her unmercifully when she failed to register +proper sympathy. + +Owing to the nearness of the Christmas holidays and the brief stretch +that lay between them and the mid-year examinations, the other two games +were put off until February and March, respectively. No one except +Rowena was sorry. She longed for a speedy opportunity to wipe the defeat +off her slate. She had little of the love of holiday giving in her +heart, and was heard loudly to declare that Christmas was a nuisance. + +Marjorie and her little coterie of intimates regarded it very +differently. They found the days before Yule-tide altogether too short +in which to carry out their Christmas plans. With the nearness of the +blessed anniversary of the world's King, Marjorie grew daily happier. +Since the straightening of the basket ball tangle, for her, things in +school had progressed with surprising smoothness. Then, too, the hateful +Observer had evidently forgotten her. Since the letter advising her to +"prepare to meet the inevitable," the Observer had apparently laid down +her pen. Marjorie soberly confided to her captain that she hoped +Christmas might make the Observer see things differently. + +Obeying the familiar mandate, which peered at her from newspaper, store +or street car, "Do Your Christmas Shopping Early," she lovingly stored +away the numerous be-ribboned bundles designed for intimate friends at +least a week before Christmas. That last week she left open in order to +go about the business of making a merry Christmas for the needy. As on +the previous year Jerry Macy and Constance were her right-hand men. +Susan, Irma, Muriel and Harriet also caught the fever of giving and the +six girls worked zealously, inspired by the highest motives, to bring +happiness to the poverty-stricken. + +Christmas morning brought Marjorie an unusual windfall of gifts. It +seemed as though everyone she liked had remembered her. Looking back on +the previous Christmas, she remembered rather sadly the Flag of Truce +and all that it had signified. This year Mary and she were again one at +heart. She dropped a few tears of sheer happiness over Mary's long +Christmas letter and the beautiful embroidered Mexican scarf that had +come with it. She had sent Mary a wonderful silver desk set engraved +with M. to M., which she hoped wistfully that Mary would like as much as +she cherished her exquisite scarf. + +The Christmas vacation was, as usual, a perpetual round of gaiety. Jerry +and Hal gave their usual dance. Constance gave a New Year's hop. Harriet +and Muriel entertained their friends at luncheons, while Marjorie +herself sent out invitations for an old-fashioned sleigh-ride party, +with an informal supper and dance at her home on the return. These +social events, with some few others of equal pleasure, sent Father Time +spinning along giddily. + +"Aren't you sorry it's all over?" sighed Constance, as she and Marjorie +lingered at the Macys' gate at the close of their first day at school +after the holidays. + +"Sorry's no name for it," declared Jerry. "We certainly had one +beautiful time, I mean a beautiful time. Honestly, I liked the getting +things ready for other folks best of all, though. I like to keep busy. I +wish we had something to do or somebody to help all the time. I'm going +to poke around and see what I can stir up. I try to do the sisterly, +helpful act toward Hal; picking up the stuff he strews all over the +house and locating lost junk, I mean articles, but he's about as +appreciative as a Feejee Islander. You know how grateful they are." + +"I saw one in a circus once," laughed Constance reminiscently. "I wasn't +impressed with his sense of gratitude. Someone threw him a peanut and he +flung it back and hit an old gentleman in the eye." + +A general giggle arose at the erring Feejee's strange conception of +gratitude. + +"That will be nice to tell Hal when he shows the same delicate sort of +thankfulness," grinned Jerry. "I'm not going to waste my precious +talents on him all winter. I'm going to dig up something better. If you +girls hear of anything, run all the way to our house, any hour of the +day or night, and tell your friend Jerry Geraldine Jeremiah. All three +are one, as Rudyard Kipling says in something or other he wrote." + +"I love Kipling's books," said Constance. "One of the first things I did +when I wasn't poor any longer was to buy a whole set. That first year at +Sanford High I tried to get them in the school library. But there were +only two or three of them." + +"That library is terribly run down," asserted Jerry. "They haven't half +the books there they ought to have. I was talking to my father about it +the other night. He promised to put it before the Board. I hope he does. +Then maybe we'll get some more books. I don't care so much for myself. I +can get all the books I want. But there are a lot of girls that can't, +who need special ones for reading courses." + +Jerry's resolve to "poke around and stir up something" did not meet with +any special success. The more needy of the Christmas poor were already +being looked after by Mrs. Dean, Mrs. Macy and other charitably disposed +persons who devoted themselves to the cause of benevolence the year +around. Generous-hearted Jerry continued to help in the good work, but +her active nature was still on the alert for some special object. + +"I've dug it up," she announced in triumph, several evenings later. The +three girls were conducting a prudent review at Jerry's home, +preparatory to the rapidly approaching mid-year test. + +"What did you say, Jerry?" Marjorie tore her eyes from her French +grammar, over which she had been poring. "I was so busy trying to fix +the conjugation of these miserable, irregular verbs in my mind that I +didn't hear you." + +"I've dug up the great idea; the how-to-be-helpful stunt. It's right in +our school, too, that our labors are needed." + +"That's interesting; ever so much more so than this." Constance Stevens +closed the book she held with a snap. "I'm not a bit fond of German," +she added. "I have to study it, though, on account of the Wagner operas. +This '_Hher als die Kirche_' is a pretty story, but it's terribly hard +to translate. We'll have several pages of it to do in examination. +Excuse me, Jerry, for getting off the subject. What is it that you've +dug up?" + +"It's about the library. You know I told you that my father was going to +speak of it at the Board meeting. Well, he did, but it wasn't any use. +There have been such a lot of appropriations made for other things that +the library will have to wait. That's what the high and mighty Board +say. This is what _I_ say. Why not get busy among ourselves and dig up +some money for new books?" + +"You mean by subscription?" asked Marjorie. + +"No, siree. I mean by earning it ourselves," proposed Jerry. +"Subscription would mean that a lot of girls would feel that they ought +to give something which they couldn't afford to give. Then there'd be +those who couldn't give a cent. That would be hard on them. What we +ought to do is to get up some kind of a show that the whole school would +be interested in." + +"That's a fine idea. It's public-spirited," approved Marjorie. "What +sort of entertainment do you think we might give? We couldn't give it +until after examinations, though." + +"I know the kind I'd like to give, but I can't unless a certain person +promises to help me," was Jerry's mystifying reply. + +"Miss Archer?" guessed Constance. + +"Nope; Connie Stevens." Jerry grinned widely at Constance's patent +amazement. + +"I?" she questioned. "What have I to do with it?" + +"Everything. You could coax Laurie Armitage to help us and then, too, +you'd be leading lady. Do you know now what I'm driving at? I see you +don't. Well, I'd like to give the 'Rebellious Princess' again, one night +in Sanford and the next in Riverview. That is only twenty-five miles +from here. A whole lot of the Sanfordites were disappointed last year +because they couldn't get into the theatre to see the operetta. Another +performance would pack the theatre, just as full as last Spring. I know +the Riverview folks would turn out to it. There are two high schools in +Riverview, you know. Besides, we have the costumes and everything ready. +Two or three rehearsals would be all we'd need. If we tried to give an +entertainment or a play, it would take so long to practise for it. Have +I a head on my shoulders or have I not?" + +"You certainly have," chorused her listeners. + +"I am willing to do all I can," agreed Constance. "I'll see Laurie about +it to-morrow." + +"Oh, you needn't wait until then. He's downstairs now with Hal and Danny +Seabrooke. I told Hal to ask the boys over here this evening. We can't +study all the time, you know. I suppose they are ready to tear up the +furniture because we are still up here. Danny Seabrooke is such a sweet, +patient, little boy. Put away your books and we'll go down to the +library. Since this is a library proposition, let's be consistent." + +A hum of girl voices, accompanied by the patter of light feet on the +stairs, informed three impatient youths that they had not waited in +vain. + +"At last!" exclaimed the irrepressible Daniel, better known as the +Gad-fly, his round, freckled face almost disappearing behind his +Cheshire grin. "Long have we sought thee, and now that we have found +thee----" + +"Sought nothing," contradicted Jerry. "I'll bet you haven't set foot +outside this library. There's evidence of it." She pointed to Hal and +Laurie, who had just hastily deposited foils in a corner and were now +more hastily engaged in drawing on their coats. "You've been holding a +fencing match. Laurie came out best, of course. He always does. He's a +fencing master and a musician all in one." + +"Jerry never gives me credit for anything," laughed Hal. "That is, in +public. Later, when Laurie's gone home, she'll tell me how much better I +can fence than Laurie." + +"Don't you believe him. He's trying to tease me, but I know him too well +to pay any attention to what he says." Jerry's fond grin bespoke her +affection for the brother she invariably grumbled about. At heart she +was devoted to him. In public she derived peculiar pleasure from +sparring with him. + +The trio of girls had advanced upon the library, there to hold a +business session. But the keynote of the next half hour was sociability. +It was Constance who first started the ball rolling. Ensconced beside +Laurie on the deep window seat, she told the young composer that Jerry +had a wonderful scheme to unfold. + +"Then let's get together and listen to it," he said warmly. Three +minutes afterward he had marshalled the others to the window seat. +"Everybody sit down but Jerry. She has the floor. Go ahead, Jerry. Tell +us what you'd like us to do." He reseated himself by Constance. Laurie +never neglected an opportunity to be near to the girl of his boyish +heart. + +Posting herself before her hearers with an exaggerated air of +importance, Jerry made a derisive mouth at Danny Seabrooke, who was +leaning forward with an appearance of profound interest, which +threatened to land him sprawling on the floor. "I'm not used to +addressing such a large audience," she chuckled. "Ahem! Wow!" Having +delivered herself of these enlightening remarks she straightened her +face and set forth her plan with her usual brusque energy. She ended +with: "You three boys have got to help. No backing out." + +"Surely we'll help," promised Laurie at once. "It's a good idea, Jerry. +I can have things going inside of a week. That is, if my leading lady +doesn't develop a temperament. These opera singers are very +temperamental, you know." His blue eyes rested smilingly on Constance. + +"I'm not an opera singer," she retorted. "I'm only a would-be one. +Would-be's are very humble persons. They know they must behave well. You +had better interview your tenor lead. Tenors are supposed to be terribly +irresponsible." + +Amid an exchange of equally harmless badinage, the six willing workers +discussed the plan at length. So much excited discussion was provocative +of hunger. No one, except Hal, said so, yet when Jerry disappeared to +return trundling a tea wagon, filled with delectable provender, she was +hailed with acclamation. + +"What splendid times we always have together," was Marjorie's +enthusiastic opinion, when seated beside Hal in his own pet car she was +being conveyed home. Snatches of mirthful conversation issuing from the +tonneau where the rest of the sextette, Jerry included, were enjoying +themselves hugely, seemed direct corroboration of her words. Invited to +"come along," Jerry had needed no second urging. + +"That's your fault," Hal made gallant response. "You are the magnet that +draws us all together. Before you and Jerry were friends I never +realized what a fine sister I had. If you hadn't been so nice to +Constance, she and Laurie might never have come to know each other so +well. Then there's Dan. He always used to run away from girls. He got +over his first fright at that little party you gave the first year you +came to Sanford. You're a magician, Marjorie, and you're making a pretty +nice history for yourself among your friends. I hope always to be among +the best of them." Hal was very earnest in his boyish praise. + +"I am sure we'll always be the best of friends, Hal," she said +seriously, though her color heightened at the sincere tribute to +herself. "I can't see that I've done anything specially wonderful, +though. It's easy to be nice to those one likes who like one in return. +It's being nice to those one doesn't like that's hard. It's harder still +not to be liked." + +"Then you aren't apt to know that hardship," retorted Hal. + +Marjorie smiled faintly. She had known that very hardship ever since she +had come to Sanford. She merely answered: "Everybody must meet a few, I +won't say enemies, I'll just say, people who don't like one." + +That night as she sat before her dressing table brushing her thick, +brown curls, she pondered thoughtfully over Hal Macy's words. In saying +them she knew he had been sincere. It was sweet to hope that she _had_ +been and was still a power for good. Yet it made her feel very humble. +She could only resolve to try always to live up to that difficult +standard. + + + + +CHAPTER XX--CONSTANCE POINTS THE WAY + + +"THIS is a nice state of affairs," scolded Jerry Macy. "What do you +suppose has happened, Marjorie?" Overtaking her friend in the corridor +on the way from recitation, Jerry's loud question cut the air like a +verbal bomb-shell. Without waiting for a reply she continued in a +slightly lower key. "Harriet has tonsilitis. Isn't that the worst you +ever heard? And only three days before the operetta, too. We can't give +it until she gets well, unless somebody in the chorus can sing her rle. +I'm going to telephone Laurie after my next class is over and tell him +about it. The chorus is our only hope. Some one of the girls may know +the part fairly well. They all ought to after so much rehearsing last +Spring. Most of them can't do solo work, though. Do you think you could +sing it?" Jerry had drawn Marjorie to one side of the corridor as she +rapidly related her bad news. + +"Mercy, no!" Marjorie registered dismay at the mere suggestion. "I +wouldn't dream of attempting it. Isn't it too bad that Harriet hasn't an +understudy? I'm ever so sorry she's sick. How dreadfully disappointed +she must be." + +"Not any more so than half of Sanford will be when they hear the +operetta's been postponed. Every reserved seat ticket's been sold. Who'd +have thought that Harriet would go and get tonsilitis?" mourned Jerry. +"There's a regular epidemic of it in Sanford. You know Nellie Simmons +had it when the sophs wanted that basket ball game postponed. Quite a +number of Sanford High girls have had it, too. Be careful you don't get +it." + +Marjorie laughed. "Oh, _I_ won't. Don't worry. I'm never sick. We'll +have to go, Jerry. There's the last bell." + +"You had better touch wood." Jerry hurled this warning advice over one +plump shoulder as she moved off. + +It brought a smile to Marjorie's lips. She was not in the least +superstitious. She grew grave with the thought that the operetta would +have to be postponed. At the first performance of the "Rebellious +Princess," Harriet had sung her part at a moment's notice. Until then +she had been Mignon La Salle's understudy. Struck by a sudden thought +Marjorie stopped short. Jerry had evidently forgotten that Mignon knew +the rle. Still, it would do no good to remind her of it, or Laurie +either. She believed that Jerry, at least, would infinitely prefer that +the operetta should never be given rather than allow Mignon to sing in +it. The mere mention of it was likely to make her cross. Marjorie +decided to keep her own counsel. She had no reason to wish to see Mignon +thus honored, particularly after her treacherous attempt to do Constance +out of her part. Then, too, there was the new grievance of the Observer +against her. + +By the time school was over for the day, Constance had already been +acquainted with the dire news. Apart from her two chums, Jerry had told +no one else except Hal and Laurie. When the three girls emerged from the +school building, accompanied by Susan, Muriel and Irma, they saw the two +young men waiting for them across the street. The latter three faithful +satellites immediately took themselves off with much giggling advice to +Jerry that four was a company, but five a crowd. Jerry merely grinned +amiably and refused to join them. She knew her own business. + +"This is too bad, Jerry," were Laurie's first words. "What are we to +do?" + +"That's for you to say," shrugged Jerry. "All I can think of to do is +have a try-out of the chorus. If none of them can sing Harriet's part, +we'll have to call it off. I mean postpone it." Jerry cast a sly glance +at Hal to see if he had noticed her polite amendment. + +"What have you to say, Constance and Marjorie?" queried Laurie. "But the +street is not the place for a consultation. Suppose we go down to +Sargent's to talk it over. I spoke to Professor Harmon this afternoon, +but he said he'd rather leave it to me. He's busy just now with that new +boy choir at the Episcopal Church. He wants me to direct the operetta." + +Voicing approval of this last, the three girls allowed their willing +cavaliers to steer them toward Sargent's hospitable doors. Hal, Marjorie +and Jerry took the lead, leaving Constance and Laurie to follow. Nothing +further relating to the problem that had risen was said until the five +were seated at a rear table in the confectioner's smart little shop. +Then Laurie abruptly took it up. "We are ready for suggestions," he +invited. + +"I have one." There was a peculiar note of uncertainty in Constance's +voice as she spoke. "You are not going to be pleased with it, but it +seems to me the only thing to do." More boldly she added: "Let Mignon La +Salle sing the part." + +"Never!" burst from Laurie and Jerry simultaneously. + +The appearance of a white-coated youth to take their order halted the +discussion for a moment. As he hurried away Marjorie's soft voice was +heard: "I thought of that, too, this morning. I had made up my mind not +to speak of it. Connie makes me ashamed of myself. Connie is willing for +Mignon to sing the part that she cheated herself of. I think we ought to +be." + +In silence Laurie stared at her across the table, his brows knitted in a +deep frown. Then his gaze rested on Constance. "You girls are queer," he +said slowly. "I don't understand you at all." + +"I do," declared Jerry, far from pleased. "I can't say I agree with +them, though. If we ask Mignon to sing the part (I don't know who's +going to ask her), she will parade around like a peacock. She may say +'no' just for spite. She doesn't speak to any of us." Then she added in +a milder tone, "I suppose her father would dance a hornpipe if we let +her sing it. I heard he felt terribly about the way she performed last +Spring. You know he put off a business trip just to go to hear her sing, +and then she didn't. She had nobody but herself to blame, though." + +Unwittingly, Jerry had struck a responsive chord in Hal. Leaning +forward, he said impulsively, "Then I think I'd ask her, Laurie. Mr. La +Salle is a fine man. His office is next to Dad's. I often go in there +and talk to him. He is mighty interesting. He has traveled all over the +world and knows how to tell about what he's seen. He's all wrapped up in +Mignon. You can see that. I wish you'd ask her just on his account. It +would pay up for last Spring." + +"Three against two," grumbled Jerry, "and one of them my own brother. Do +we stand our ground, Laurie, or do we not?" + +Laurie did not answer immediately. He had not forgiven the French girl +her transgression against Constance. The battery of earnest blue and +brown eyes bent upon him proved fatal to his animosity. "Our ground +seems to be shaky," he answered. "The majority generally rules." + +"Then you _will_ ask her?" Constance flashed him a radiant smile that +quite repaid him for his hinted decision in Mignon's favor. "It will +have to be you. She wouldn't do it for us." + +Laurie showed lively consternation. "Oh, see here----" Innate chivalry +toward girlhood overtook him. "All right," he answered. "I'll ask her." + +In the midst of countless woes, arising from her unwilling allegiance to +Rowena Farnham, Mignon next day received the glorious invitation from a +most studiedly polite young man. If anyone other than Lawrence Armitage +had come to her with the request she would, in all probability, refused +pointblank to countenance the idea. Mignon still cherished her +school-girl preference for the handsome young musician. She, therefore, +assented to the proposal with only the merest show of reluctance. Laurie +made it very plain, however, that Constance Stevens desired it. +Inwardly, Mignon writhed with anger; outwardly, she was a smiling image +of amiability. + +Afterward she experienced the deepest satisfaction in boasting to Rowena +of the honor which had come to her. + +"I think I'll be in that operetta, too," had been Rowena's calm +decision. "I'll go to that Lawrence Armitage and tell him I shall sing +in the chorus." Straightway, she went on this laudable errand, only to +be politely but firmly informed that there were no chorus vacancies. +Over this she raged to Mignon, then consoled herself and dismayed the +French girl by calmly announcing, "I'm going to the theatre with you +just the same and watch the silly operetta from behind the scenes. Let +me know when you have your rehearsals, for I intend to go to them, too." + +Resorting to craft, Mignon managed to attend the first rehearsal without +Rowena. The latter discovered this and pounced upon her on her way home +with a torrent of ungentle remarks. Bullied to tears, Mignon was obliged +to allow Rowena to accompany her to the second and third rehearsals, the +third being the last before the public performance. + +Though the cast secretly objected to this, they made no open +manifestation of their disgust. It was now fairly well known how matters +stood between Rowena and Mignon. The latter had no reason to complain of +the universally civil treatment she received. It was merely civil, +however, and contained no friendliness of spirit. By the entire cast the +French girl was regarded as an evil necessity. For that reason they also +reluctantly endured Rowena's presence. But Rowena derived no pleasure +from her intrusion, except the fact that she was a source of covert +annoyance to all parties. Her jealous soul was filled with torment at +being left out of the production. Shrewd intuition alone warned her not +to create even the slightest disturbance. She had determined to go with +the cast to Riverview. Consequently, she did not propose cutting off her +nose to spite her face. + +The knowledge that the proceeds from the operetta were to be devoted to +school use, rallied the Sanfordites to the cause. The Sanford +performances went off without a hitch before a huge and delighted +assemblage. It may be set down to her credit that Mignon La Salle sang +the part of the proud step-sister even better than Harriet Delaney had +rendered it. Her dramatic ability was considerable and her voice and +temperament were eminently suited to her rle. On this one occasion her +long-suffering parent was not disappointed in his daughter. Natural +perspicacity caused him to wonder not a little how it had all come +about, and he made a mental note to inquire into it at the first +opportunity. Strongly disapproving of the intimacy between Mignon and +Rowena Farnham, he was hopeful that this honor done his daughter would +throw her again among the finer type of the Sanford girls. From his +young friend Hal Macy he had received glowing descriptions of Marjorie +and her close friends, and he longed to see Mignon take kindly to them. + +Could he have peeped into Mignon's subtle brain, his dreams would have +vanished in thin air. Ever the ingrate, she was thankful to none for the +unexpected chance to glitter. At heart she was the same tigerish young +person, ready to claw at a moment's notice. Within her lurked two +permanent desires. One of them was to win the interest of Lawrence +Armitage; the other to be free of Rowena. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI--ROWENA RE-ARRANGES MATTERS + + +THE Sanford performance of "The Rebellious Princess" took place on +Friday evening. Late the following afternoon the illustrious cast were +conveyed by train or motor to Riverview, the scene of Saturday evening's +operations. Marjorie, Constance, Mr. and Mrs. Dean drove there in the +Deans' motor. Accompanied by Mrs. Macy, Jerry, Susan, Muriel and Irma +motored to Riverview together. Hal and Laurie sought temporary freedom +from the fair sex in the latter's roadster. Mr. La Salle had promised, +at Mignon's earnest request, to drive to Riverview with her in her +runabout. She had adopted this means of thus temporarily eliminating +Rowena. Not daring to thrust herself upon Mignon when bolstered by her +father's protection, Rowena had declared buoyantly that she would be +there anyway. + +Unfortunately for Mignon, a sudden business emergency sent Mr. La Salle +speeding to Buffalo on the Saturday morning train. Before going, +however, he instructed his chauffeur to drive Mignon to the train for +Riverview and see her safely on it. With others of the cast on the same +train, she would be in good company. But the best laid plans often go +astray. Ever on the alert for treachery, Rowena saw Mr. La Salle depart +and hurrying to the La Salle's home soon bullied the true state of +affairs from his petulant offspring. + +"Don't bother about taking the train," Rowena counseled arrogantly. +"James will drive us over to Riverview in our limousine. He can stay +there until the show is over and bring us home." + +"I can't do that," parried Mignon. "My father gave orders to William to +drive me to the train the cast is to take and put me on it. If I were to +go with you, William would tell him." + +"Oh, no, he wouldn't," retorted Rowena. "Just let me talk to William." +Without waiting for further excuses from Mignon, the self-willed +sophomore dashed out of the house in the direction of the La Salle +garage. Mignon followed her, divided between vexation and approbation. +She was far from anxious to make the journey to Riverview by train. For +once Rowena stood for the lesser of two evils. + +"Come here, William," called Rowena, pausing outside the open garage +door and imperiously beckoning the chauffeur who was engaged in putting +a fresh tire on Mignon's runabout. + +"What is it, Miss?" asked the man, as he frowningly approached Rowena. + +"You needn't take Miss La Salle to the train this afternoon. She's going +with me. She has so much luggage she can't manage it on the train, so +she had to make different arrangements." Rowena presented a formidably +smiling front as she gave her command. + +"But Mr. La Salle----" protested William. + +"Don't be impertinent," was the freezing interruption. "We know our own +business. Miss La Salle's father will know all about it when he returns. +Won't he?" She turned to Mignon for confirmation. + +"It is all right, William," the latter assured him, purposely neglecting +to answer Rowena's question. "My father will be told when he returns. He +forgot about my luggage." + +"All right, Miss Mignon." William was far too discreet to court the +double attack, which he knew would be forthcoming, should he continue to +protest. Miss Mignon always did as she pleased, regardless of her +father. He made mental note, however, to clear himself the instant his +employer returned. + +"That was simple enough," exulted Rowena, as they turned away. "You +ought to be glad I fixed everything so nicely for you. I expect some of +those snippy girls will be anything but pleased to have me behind the +scenes to-night." + +"You'd better keep to my dressing room," warned Mignon. "On account of +it being a different theatre, there is sure to be some confusion. Laurie +Armitage won't like it if you go strolling around among the cast the way +you've done at rehearsals." + +"You just attend to your own affairs," blustered Rowena, "and I'll +attend to mine. Who cares what that high and mighty Lawrence Armitage +thinks? He's so wrapped up in that milk-and-water baby of a Constance +Stevens he doesn't know you are alive. Too bad, isn't it?" + +Mignon turned red as a poppy. She began to wish she had not allowed +Rowena to alter the arrangements her father had prudently made. Frowning +her displeasure at the brutal taunt, she cast a half-longing glance +toward the garage. There was still time to inform William that she had +changed her mind. + +Instantly Rowena marked the glance and divined its import. It did not +accord with her plans. If she drove Mignon to reconsider her decision, +it meant one of two things. To quarrel openly with her would place +beyond reach the possibility of accompanying her to Riverview. If Rowena +went there alone she could not hope to be allowed to go behind the +scenes. On the other hand she dared not jeopardize her control over +Mignon by permitting her to gain even one point. + +"Don't be foolish," she advised in a more conciliatory tone. "I was only +teasing you about that Stevens girl. One of these days this Armitage boy +will find out what a silly little thing she is. If you are nice to me, I +daresay I can help him to find it out." + +Mignon brightened visibly. From all she had learned of Rowena's +practical methods, she believed her capable of accomplishing wonders in +the mischief-making line. "I suppose you mean well," she said a trifle +sullenly. "Still, I don't think you ought to say such cutting things to +me, Rowena." + +Thus once more a temporary truce was declared between these two wayward +children of impulse. Though neither trusted the other, sheer love of +self admonished them that they could accomplish more by hanging +together. Mignon, however, was destined to learn that an unstable prop +is no more to be relied upon than no prop at all. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII--THE RESULT OF PLAYING WITH FIRE + + +"See here, Jerry, can't something be done to keep that Miss Farnham from +completely upsetting the cast?" Laurie Armitage's fine face was dark +with disapproval as he halted Jerry, who was hurrying by him toward +Constance's dressing room. "I just heard her telling one of the girls in +the chorus that her costume was 'frightfully unbecoming.' The poor girl +turned red and looked ready to cry. She's been circulating among the +chorus ever since she and Mignon landed in the theatre. Goodness knows +what else she has been saying. It won't do. This isn't Sanford, you +know. We hope to give a perfect performance here. I wish I had told +Mignon not to bring her. I hated to do it, though. She might have got +wrathy and backed out at the last minute. If ever I compose another +operetta, I'll let somebody else manage it. I'm through," Laurie +concluded in disgust. + +"Why don't you ask Mignon to keep her in the dressing room?" suggested +Jerry. "She's the only one who can manage Row-ena. I doubt if _she_ +can." + +"Might as well touch a match to a bundle of firecrackers," compared +Laurie gloomily. "Can't you think of anything else?" + +Jerry studied for a moment. As Laurie's helper she felt that she ought +to measure up to the situation. "It's almost time for the show to +begin," she said. "The chorus will soon be too busy to bother with her. +After the first act, she'll be in Mignon's dressing room. Then I'll slip +around among the girls and whisper to them not to mind her. She can't +bother the principals. She doesn't dare go near Constance or any of the +boys like Hal and the Crane." + +"Please do that." Laurie sighed with relief. "It will help me a great +deal." + +Unaware that she had become the victim of a needful strategy, Rowena was +serenely deriving huge enjoyment from the brutally frank criticisms she +was lavishing right and left among the unoffending choirsters. It was a +supreme happiness to her to see her carefully delivered shots strike +home. But her ambition to wound lay not entirely with the chorus. She +was yearning for a chance to nettle Constance Stevens, whom she hated by +reason of the impassable gulf that lay between Constance and herself. +Never, since she had come to Sanford, had Constance appeared even to +know that she existed. This galled Rowena beyond expression. As a leader +among the high school girls she had deemed Constance worth cultivating. +She might as readily have tried to bring down the North Star as to +ingratiate herself with this calm, lovely girl, and she knew it. Here +was something which she could not obtain. Failing, she marked her as a +victim for ridicule and scorn. + +The first act over at last, Rowena posted herself in Mignon's dressing +room and proceeded to regale the latter with a derisive, laughing +account of her fruitful wanderings among the cast. Mignon listened to +her with indifference. As she opened the second act, her mind was on her +rle. She was hardly aware that her tormentor had left the dressing room +until she became conscious that the high-pitched tones had suddenly +ceased. + +Mignon proving altogether too non-committal to suit her difficult fancy, +Rowena had fared forth in search of fresh adventure. The star dressing +room, occupied by Constance, lay two doors farther down the corridor. In +passing and repassing it that evening, Rowena had vainly ransacked her +guileful brain for an excuse to invade it. Now as she left Mignon's +dressing room she decided to put on an intrepid front and pay Constance +a call. Her large, black eyes danced with pure malice as she doubled a +fist and pounded upon the closed door. + +"Who is there?" came from within. The vigorous tattoo had startled +Constance. + +For answer Rowena simply swung open the door and stepped into the room. +"I thought I'd pay you a call," she announced with cool complacence. + +Seated before a low make-up shelf on which reposed a mirror, Constance +was engaged in readjusting her coiffure, which had become slightly +loosened during the first act. Her blue eyes showed wondering surprise +as she turned in her chair to face the intruder. From Jerry she had +already heard angry protests against this mischievous girl. Quiet +Constance now read fresh mischief in the intrusion. She resolved to +treat her uninvited guest civilly. If possible she would try to keep her +in the dressing room until the second act was called. Better that than +allow her to further annoy the other girls. As she had no change of +costume to make she was free to entertain her unbidden visitor. + +"Sit down," she evenly invited, neither cordial nor cold. "How do you +like the operetta?" + +Rather taken aback by this placid reception, Rowena dropped gracefully +into a chair, her dark eyes fixed speculatively on her hostess. +Shrugging her shoulders she gave a contemptuous little laugh as she +answered: "Oh, these amateur productions are all alike. _Some_, of +course, are more stupid than others." + +"Do you include the poor Princess among the more stupid?" asked +Constance, smiling in spite of herself at this patent attempt to be +disagreeable. + +"I don't include it in anything. I don't even know what it's all about. +I only came to rehearsals and here to amuse myself. Sanford is the +deadest town I was ever in and Sanford High School is a regular +kindergarten. I suppose you know who I am, don't you?" Rowena crested +her auburn head a trifle. + +"Yes. You are Miss Farnham." Constance made reply in an enigmatic tone. + +A threatening sparkle leaped to the other's eyes. She was beginning to +resent Constance's quiet attitude. "If you knew who I was, why didn't +you speak to me at the first rehearsal?" she sharply launched. + +"I merely knew you by sight. There are many girls in Sanford High whom I +do not know personally." + +"But _I'm_ different," pursued Rowena. "My father is very rich and I can +have whatever I like. You must know that. You ought to associate with +girls of your own class. Your aunt has lots of money and can give you +social position. That Geraldine Macy is the only rich girl you ever go +with. All the others are just middle class. You're foolish to waste your +time on Marjorie----" + +Constance had received Rowena's first words with secret amusement. As +she continued to listen her inward smile changed to outward, rather. At +mention of Marjorie her self-imposed placidity flew to the winds. +"Kindly leave my dressing room," she ordered, her voice shaking with +indignation. "Marjorie Dean is my dearest friend. No one can belittle +her to me. Least of all, _you_." Constance had slowly risen, her blue +eyes dark with the injury to one she loved. + +"I thought that would bring you to life," laughed Rowena, making no move +to rise. As she sat there, the light playing on her ruddy hair, her +black eyes agleam with tantalizing mirth, Constance could not but wonder +at her tigerish beauty. To quote Muriel, she did resemble "a big, +striped tiger." + +Without answering, Constance moved to the door and opened it. She was +about to step into the corridor when Rowena sprang forward and clutched +her by the arm. "You milk-and-water baby, do you think----" She did not +finish. As Constance stepped over the threshold she came almost into +collision with Lawrence Armitage. His keen glance immediately took in +the situation. He saw Rowena's arm drop to her side. Brushing past +Constance like a whirlwind, she gained the shelter of Mignon's dressing +room and disappeared. + +"Hurry. You'll miss your cue. I didn't see you in the wings and came to +warn you. Run along. I'll see you later," uttered Laurie rapidly. His +words sent Constance moving rapidly toward the stairway. His lips +tightened as he watched her disappear. For a moment he stood still, +then, turning, took the same direction. + +"Just a moment, Miss La Salle." Seeking the stairway at the close of the +second act, Mignon was halted by a troubled young man. "I don't wish to +be disagreeable, but--Miss Farnham must either remain in your dressing +room during the third act or go out in the audience. I am not blaming +you. You've sung your part splendidly to-night and I appreciate your +effort. Will you help me in this? We don't wish anything to occur to +spoil the rest of the operetta. I am sure you understand." Appeal looked +out from his deeply blue eyes. + +"Of course I'll help you." Mignon experienced a sudden thrill of +triumph. Lawrence Armitage was actually asking her to do him a favor. +Valiance rose within her. She quite forgot her dread of Rowena's +bluster. Flashing him her most fascinating smile, she held out her hand +in token of good faith. Inwardly she was hoping that Constance might +happen along to witness the tableau. Laurie clasped it lightly. He was +not in the least impressed. "Thank you." He wheeled abruptly and turned +away. + +Mignon ran lightly down the stairs and to her dressing room. Inspired by +the recent interview, she promptly accosted the ubiquitous Rowena, as +she lounged lazily in a chair. "You mustn't go out of the dressing room +or upstairs again until the operetta is over," she dictated. "Laurie +doesn't want you to. He just spoke to me about it. He has allowed you a +lot of liberty already, so I think you'd better do as he says. It won't +be long now until----" + +"So _Laurie_ thinks he can order me about, does he?" Rowena sprang to +her feet in a rage. "_That_ for Laurie!" She snapped contemptuous +fingers. "This is your work. You've been talking about me to him. But +you'll be sorry. I know a way----" + +Her mood swiftly changing she threw back her head and laughed. Resuming +her chair she sat silently eyeing Mignon with a mirthful malevolence +that sent a shiver of apprehension up and down the French girl's spine. +Rowena had undoubtedly been inspired with an idea that boded no good to +her. As she dressed for the third act she cast more than one nervous +glance at the smiling figure of insolence in the chair. + +Not a word further had been exchanged between the two when the third act +was called. Mignon half expected to see Rowena rise and follow her up +the stairs, there to create a scene with Laurie that would delay the +rise of the curtain. Nothing of the kind occurred, however, and the last +act began and went on to a triumphant end. + +After the curtain had been rung down on the final tableau, she made a +dash for the stairs to encounter Rowena ascending them. She had already +donned her evening cape and scarf. At sight of Mignon she called out in +the careless, good-humored fashion she could assume at will: "Hurry up. +I'm going on out to the limousine. I need a breath of fresh air." + +Partially convinced that Rowena had recovered from her fit of temper, +Mignon gladly hastened to do her bidding. It was not until she began to +look about for her high-laced boots that she changed her mind concerning +her companion. They were nowhere to be seen. "Rowena has hidden them, +just to be aggravating!" she exclaimed angrily. "That was her revenge. +But I'll find them." + +After a frantic ten-minutes' search she managed to locate them, tucked +into either sleeve of the long fur coat she had worn. Thankful to find +them, she laced them in a hurry and proceeded to dress with all speed. A +repeated receding of footsteps and gay voices from the direction of the +stairway warned her that the dressing rooms were being rapidly deserted. +Those who had come to Riverview by railway had only a short time after +the performance in which to catch the last train for the night. + +Taking the stairs, two at a time, Mignon made a rush for the stage door +and on out into the cold, starlit night. The first thing she noted was a +large part of the cast hurriedly boarding a street car for the station. +But where was the Farnham limousine and Rowena? Where was the little +line of automobiles she had seen parked along the street when she +entered the theatre? Only one now remained, almost a block farther up +the street. Her heart beat thankfully as she observed it. It looked like +the Farnham limousine. It was just like Rowena to thus draw away a +little distance in order to scare her into thinking she had been left +behind. + +Racing toward it she saw that the chauffeur was engaged in examining one +of its tires. She heard a cheery voice call out, "All right, Captain," +and her knees grew weak. The voice did not sound like that of James, the +Farnhams' chauffeur. Hoping against hope she came abreast of it. Then +her elfin eyes grew wide with despair. It was not the Farnhams' car. It +belonged to none other than the Deans. + +Heartsick, she was about to turn away when a fresh young voice called +out, "Mignon La Salle!" Forgetting everything except that she was in +difficulties, she halted and managed to articulate, "Have you seen Miss +Farnham's car?" + +"Why, no," came the wondering reply. "Have you missed her?" + +"I saw her go by in a limousine," stated Constance Stevens, from the +tonneau of the Deans' car. "She was driving and the chauffeur was +sitting beside her." + +A belated light now dawned upon Mignon. She understood that this was the +fruition of Rowena's threat. She had purposely run off and left her, +knowing that she could not hope to catch the last train. + +In the dark of the tonneau, Constance gave Marjorie's hand a quick +pressure. Its instant return signified that her chum understood. Without +hesitation she called to the tragic little figure on the sidewalk, +"We'll take you home, Mignon. It's lucky that General stopped to examine +that tire." Then to her father, "This is Mignon La Salle, Father. You +know her, Mother." + +"Yes." Mrs. Dean bowed in reserved fashion. "Get into the tonneau with +the girls, Miss La Salle. We will see that you arrive safely at your own +door." + +The unexpected courtesy very nearly robbed the stranded girl of speech. +Stammering her thanks, Mignon climbed ruefully into the tonneau and +seated herself by Marjorie. As the car began a loud purr, preparatory to +starting, her outraged feelings overcame her and she burst into tears. +"It was hateful in her," she sobbed, "perfectly hateful." + +"It was," agreed Marjorie positively. "But I wouldn't cry about it. You +are all right now." Then with a view to cheering the weeper, she added: +"You sang your part beautifully both nights, Mignon. That's something to +be glad of. This little trouble doesn't really matter, since everything +turned out well." + +"It's nice in you to say it," quavered Mignon. "But, oh, how I despise +that hateful, hateful girl. I'll never, never speak to her again as long +as I live." + +Marjorie might easily have assured her that this was a wise decision. +Instead, she prudently refrained from committing herself. Mignon's mind +continued to dwell on her wrongs. She cried and raged against her +treacherous companion during most of the ride home. Constance and +Marjorie were obliged to listen and administer judicious consolation. It +did not appear to sink deep. Mignon was too self-centered to realize +their generosity of spirit. When they left her at the La Salle's gate +she tried to put graciousness into her thanks, but her thoughts were too +firmly fixed upon faithless Rowena and herself to appreciate the +kindness she had received. + +"For once Mignon had to swallow a dose of her own medicine," commented +Constance grimly, as the Deans' car sped away toward their home, where +Connie was to spend the night with Marjorie. + +"She found it pretty hard to take," mused Marjorie. "It's a good thing, +though. This will end Mignon's friendship with Rowena, but it won't +change her one little bit. I don't believe she'll ever change." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII--A PECULIAR REQUEST + + +"Four letters for you, Lieutenant. Hunt them," decreed Mrs. Dean, as +Marjorie burst into the living room, her cheeks rosy from the nipping +kisses of the winter air. + +"Oh, I know where they are." Jubilantly overturning the contents of her +mother's sewing basket, she triumphantly drew them forth. Without +bothering to remove her wraps she plumped down at her mother's feet to +revel in her spoils. + +"Here's one from Mary. I'll read that last. Here's one from Harriet." +Opening it she read it through and passed it to her mother. "Harriet's +almost well again. Isn't that good news? Why----" she had opened the +next--"it's from Mignon; a little note of thanks. Oh, Captain!" she +stared hard at the note. "I've discovered something. Mignon's not the +horrid Observer. See. The writing and paper and all are quite different. +I'm sure she isn't. She'd never ask anyone else to write such letters. +It's not her way." + +"Then that is good news, too," smiled Mrs. Dean. "I am also glad to know +it. It is dreadful to misjudge anyone." + +"I know that. I wish I knew who the Observer was, too." Marjorie sighed +and took up the next letter. As she read it she laughed outright. "It's +from General, the old dear. Just listen: + + "Esteemed Lieutenant: + + "Head up, forward march to the downtown barracks. Report for stern + duty at 4:30 to-morrow (Thursday) P. M. Your most military presence + is requested to assist in conferring with an official committee in a + matter of great importance to the parties concerned. Failure to + appear on time will be punished by court-martial. Be warned not to + try to ambush your general in the living room to ascertain the facts + beforehand. You will only be captured and sent to the guard house. + + "Signed, + "General Dean." + +"It's a surprise," nodded Marjorie. "I know it is. Very well, I'll show +him that I'm not a bit curious. I'll tell him, though, that it's not +fair to threaten a soldier. Do you know what it's about, Captain?" + +"No; I am equally in the dark. I wouldn't tell you if I knew," Mrs. Dean +answered teasingly. + +"I wouldn't let you," retorted Marjorie. "I have to be loyal to my +orders. Now I'll read Mary's letter and then go and answer it. If I +don't answer it now I might put it off." + +Laying the three notes aside, she busied herself with the long letter +from Mary, reading it aloud with numerous exclamations and comments. +True to her word, she made no mention to her father of his letter. +Delighting to tease her, he hinted broadly concerning it, but failed to +draw Marjorie into questioning him. + +Nevertheless, it was a most curious young woman who entered his office +the following afternoon at the exact moment of appointment. Her +curiosity was lost in wide-eyed amazement as she saw that he was not +alone. Seated in a chair beside his desk was a stout, dark man of middle +age, whose restless, black eyes and small, dark mustache bespoke the +foreigner. But this was not the cause of her astonishment. It lay in the +fact that the man was Mignon La Salle's father. Both men rose as she +entered, Mr. La Salle bowing to her in the graceful fashion of the +Frenchman. + +"Sit here, Lieutenant. Mr. La Salle wishes to talk with you. He is kind +enough to allow me to be present at the conference." + +"Miss Marjorie, I have not had the pleasure of meeting you before +to-day. It is a very great pleasure. I have already thanked your father +for his kindness to my daughter several evenings since. Now I must thank +you, too. But I wish also to ask a far greater favor. My daughter, +Mignon," he paused as though at a loss to proceed, "is a somewhat +peculiar girl. For many years she has had no mother." He sighed, then +continuing, "I wish her to be all that is good and fine. But I am a busy +man. I cannot take time to be with her as I would desire. From my friend +Harold Macy I have heard many pleasant things of you and your friends. +So I have thought that it might be well to ask you if you----" Again he +paused, his black eyes riveted on Marjorie, "if you will take an +interest in my daughter, so that I may feel that her associates are of +the best. + +"I regret greatly her friendship with Miss Farnham. But that is past. +She has told me all, and I have forbidden their further intimacy. +Perhaps you are already the friend of my Mignon? If so, it is, indeed, +well. If not, may I hope that you will soon become such, indeed?" There +was a trace of pleading in his carefully enunciated speech with its +slightly foreign accent. + +A queer, choking sensation gripped Marjorie's throat. She was +immeasurably touched. Happy in her General's love, she glimpsed +something of the tender motive, which had actuated this stern man of +business to plead for his daughter's welfare. + +"I am willing to be Mignon's friend, if she is willing to be mine," she +answered with grave sweetness. "I think I may speak for my friends, +also." + +"Thank you. She will respond, I am sure." A faint tightening of his thin +lips gave hint that he would see to the exaction of that response. "It +will be a pleasure to invite you to dine with us to-morrow evening," he +added. La Salle Pre evidently intended to allow no grass to grow under +his feet. + +"Thank you. May I go, General?" Marjorie's eyes sought her father's. +Though she had maintained a gracious composure, he guessed that she was +far from easy over this queer turn of affairs. There was a faintly +martyred look in her brown eyes. + +"Yes," he said in a steady, reassuring tone. "Your General approves." He +flashed her a mischievous glance. + +"Then you may expect me." Marjorie rose and offered her hand to the +anxious father. "I must go now," she said. "I am very glad to have met +you, Mr. La Salle." + +Once outside the office she drew a long breath of dismay. "I'm quite +sure of most of the girls," was her reflection, "but what, oh, what will +Jerry say?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV--AN UNEXPECTED CALAMITY + + +Jerry had a great deal to say. She was so justly wrathful she very +nearly cried. "It's the worst thing I ever heard of," she sputtered. "I +wish we'd never revived that old operetta. Then Mignon wouldn't have +sung in it and got left at the switch, and you wouldn't be asking us to +make martyrs of ourselves. After all you've said about being through +with Mignon, too! It's a shame!" + +"But just suppose her father had come to you and asked you to help her, +what would you have done?" pleaded Marjorie. + +"Told him Mignon's history and advised him to lock her up," snapped +Jerry. "I hope---- Oh, I don't know what I hope. I can't think of anything +horrible enough to hope." + +"Poor Jeremiah. It's too bad." Marjorie's little hand slipped itself +into the plump girl's fingers. "You know you'd have done just as I did. +I had quite a long talk with Mignon last night. After dinner her father +left us to ourselves. It wasn't exactly pleasant. She would say mean +things about Rowena. Still, she said she'd like to try again and wished +that we would all help her. So I said for all of us that we would. You +won't back out, will you, Jerry?" + +"I don't know. Wait a week or two and see what she does, then I can tell +better. You've got to show me. I mean, I must be convinced." Jerry +wrinkled her nose at Marjorie and giggled. Her ruffled good humor was +smoothing itself down. + +"That means, you _will_ help her," was Marjorie's fond translation. +"Constance is willing, too. I am sure of Irma and Harriet, but Susan and +Muriel are doubtful. Still, I think I can win them over if I tell them +that you are with me in our plan." + +"There's just this much about it, Marjorie." Jerry spoke with unusual +seriousness. "Mignon will have to play fair or I'll drop her with a +bang. Just like that. The first time I find her trying any of her +deceitful tricks will be the last with me. Remember, I mean what I say. +If anything like that happens, don't ask me to overlook it, for I won't. +Not even to please you, and I'd rather please _you_ than anybody else I +know." + +"I'll remember," laughed Marjorie. She was not greatly impressed by +Jerry's declaration. The stout girl was apt to take a contrary stand, +merely for the sake of variety. She had expected that Jerry would scold +roundly, then give in with a final threatening grumble. + +Susan and Muriel she found even harder to convince of Mignon's +repentance than Jerry. Muriel was especially obstinate. "I'll speak to +Mignon," she stipulated, "but I won't ask her to my house or go any +place with her. Now that we've made over five hundred dollars out of the +operetta for the library, you know we've been talking about getting up a +club. Of course, she'll want to be in it. But she sha'n't." + +"Then there's no use in trying to help her," said Marjorie calmly, "if +we don't include her in our work and our good times." + +"That's precisely what you said last year," retorted Muriel. "You +invited her to your party and she nearly broke it up. After that I +wonder that you can even dream of trusting her. I've known her longer +than you, Marjorie. When we all went to grammar school together she was +always the disturber. She used to fight with us and then come sliding +around to make up. She'd promise to be good, but she never kept her word +for long. + +"Once she behaved pretty well for three months and we began to like her +a little. Then one day some of us went to the woods on a picnic. We took +our luncheon and spread a tablecloth on the grass. When we had all the +eats spread out on the tablecloth and sat down around it, Mignon got mad +because Susan said something to me that made me laugh. We happened to +look at her, but we weren't talking about her. She thought so, though. +She began sputtering at us like a firecracker. The more we all tried to +calm her the madder she got. Before we could stop her she caught the +tablecloth in both hands and gave it a hard jerk. You can imagine what +happened! All our nice eats were jumbled together into the grass. The +ants got into them and we had to throw nearly everything away. She +didn't stop to help pick up things. She rushed off home and none of us +spoke to her for the rest of the year. That's why I can't believe in her +repentance. Sooner or later she's bound to upset things again, just as +she did that time." + +Marjorie could not resist laughing a little at Muriel's tragic tale of a +woodland disaster. "I can't blame you for feeling as you do," she said, +"but I must keep my word to her father. It means so much to him. Being +in the operetta has given her a little start. Perhaps she's begun to see +that it pays to do well. She knows now how it feels to be treated badly. +It must remind her of some of the mean things she's done. If she's ever +going to change, the time has come. But if no one believes in her, then +she'll get discouraged and be worse than ever. Connie is willing to +help. I'd be ashamed to refuse after that. Even Jerry says she'll +consider it." + +"Connie is a perfect angel, and Jerry is a goose," declared Muriel, +flushing rather guiltily. It was difficult to continue to combat +Marjorie's plan in the face of Constance's nobility of spirit. Constance +had been the chief sufferer at Mignon's hands. Reminded of this, Muriel +weakened. "I suppose I ought to get in line with Connie," she admitted. +"I'd feel pretty small if I didn't. I can't afford to let Jerry beat me, +either." + +Muriel's objections thus overruled, Susan proved less hard to convince. +Once more the reform party banded itself together to the performance of +good works. Smarting from the effects of Rowena's cowardly spite, Mignon +was quite willing to be taken up again by so important a set of girls as +that to which Marjorie belonged. It pleased her not a little to know +that she had gained a foothold that Rowena could never hope to win. +Then, too, her father had taken a hand in her affairs. He had sternly +informed her that she must about-face and do better. Relief at being +plucked from a disagreeable situation, rather than gratitude toward her +preservers, had predominated her feelings on the eventful night at +Riverview. Fear of her father's threat to send her away to a convent +school if she did not show rapid signs of improvement made her pause. + +Returning from his business trip, Mr. La Salle had interviewed first +William, the chauffeur, then Mignon. From an indulgent parent he became +suddenly transformed into a stern inquisitor, before whose wrath Mignon +broke down and haltingly confessed the truth. As a result he had +forbidden her further acquaintance with Rowena. Reminded afresh of his +parental duty, he had pondered long, then through the kindly offices of +Mr. Dean, arranged the meeting with Marjorie. Thus Mignon's affairs had +been readjusted and she had been forced to agree to follow the line of +good conduct he had stretched for her. + +It was a distinct relief, however, to Marjorie and her friends to find +that Mignon was content to be merely on equitable terms. She did not try +to force herself upon them, though she received whatever advances they +made with an amiability quite unusual to her. They were immensely +amused, however, at her frigid ignoring of Rowena Farnham. Her revenge +consummated, Rowena decided to re-assume her sway over her unwilling +follower. Mignon fiercely declined to be reinstated and the two held a +battle royal in which words became sharpest arrows. Later, Rowena was +plunged into fresh rage by the news that Mignon had been taken up by the +very girls she had over and over again disparaged. + +Determined not to be beaten, she continued to waylay Mignon as she went +to and from school. Changing her bullying tactics, she next tried +coaxing. But Mignon maintained her air of virtuous frigidity and took an +especial delight in snubbing the girl she had once feared. It also gave +her infinite pleasure to paint Rowena in exceedingly dark colors to +whomever would listen to her grievances. Much of this came in +round-about fashion to the reformers. They disapproved of it intensely, +but held their peace rather than undo the little good they hoped they +had already accomplished. + +Among her schoolmates the account of Mignon's near misfortune was +received with varying degrees of interest. A few were sympathetically +disposed; others merely laughed. Rowena, however, lost caste. Neither +her costly clothes, her caustic wit nor her impudently fascinating +personality could cover the fact that she had done a treacherous and +contemptible deed. The fact that she had left a young girl stranded at +midnight in a strange town did not add to her doubtful popularity. Quick +to discover this state of affairs, she realized that she had gone a step +too far. There was only one way in which she might redeem herself and +that lay in the direction of basket ball. + +February was speedily living out his short, changeable life. The third +of the four games between the sophomore-junior teams was to be played on +the last Saturday afternoon of the month, which fell on the +twenty-seventh. Thus far each side had won a game. Rowena decreed that +the two games yet to be played should go to the sophomores. She would +play as she had never played before. Nothing should stand in her way. +She would lead the sophomores on to glory and the acclamation of her +class would cleanse her blurred escutcheon. Once she had re-established +her power she would make Mignon sorry. + + Fortunately for her plans, the members of her team had showed no great +amount of prejudice against her since the affair of the operetta. They +treated her cordially enough during practice and applauded her clever +playing. Shrewd to a degree, she divined instantly that they cherished +no special regard for her. They were simply using her as a means to the +end. Knowing her value as a player, they were egging her on to do well +because of their hope of victory in the next two games. She did not +doubt that when the season was over there would be a general falling-off +in their cordiality unless she so greatly distinguished herself as to +win their ungrudging admiration. + +Alas for her dream of power, when the third game came off between the +two teams, it was the juniors who carried off the palm with a score of +26-14 in their favor. What galled her most was the remarkably brilliant +playing of Marjorie Dean. If there lingered a doubt in the mind of Miss +Davis regarding Marjorie's ability to play basket ball, her work on the +floor that Saturday afternoon must have completely discounted that +doubt. What Miss Davis thought when, from the gallery, she watched the +clever playing of the girl she had endeavored to dismiss from the team, +was something which was recorded only on her own brain. It was noted by +several pairs of watchful eyes that she did not applaud the victors. She +had not forgiven them for the difficulties into which they had plunged +her on that fateful afternoon. + +Losing the game to the enemy made matters distinctly mortifying for +Rowena. Among themselves, her team-mates gloomily conceded that they had +over-rated her as a player. Though they made some effort to conceal +their resentment, their cordiality became less apparent. This second +defeat precluded all hope of doing more than tieing the score in the one +game still to be played. They needed Rowena's help to bring about that +result. Therefore, they dared not express themselves openly. It may be +recorded here that the ideals of the four sophomore players were no +higher than those of Rowena. Their attitude toward her was glaringly +selfish and they were possessed of little loyalty. + +The final game was set for the thirteenth of March. Doggedly bent on +escaping a whitewashing, the sophomores devoted themselves to zealous +practice. So insistently frequent were their demands for the use of the +gymnasium that the junior team were obliged to make equally insistent +protest against their encroachment. + +"I am really glad that this next game is to be the last," remarked +Marjorie to her teammates one afternoon as they were preparing to leave +the dressing room after practice. "Basket ball hasn't seemed the same +old game this year. Perhaps I'm outgrowing my liking for it, but really +we've had so much trouble about it that I long for victory and peace." + +"It's not the game," contested Muriel. "It's those sophs with Rowena +Farnham leading them on. Why, even when Mignon was continually fussing +with us we never had any trouble about getting the gym for practice. Oh, +well, one week from to-morrow will tell the story. If we win it will be +a three to one victory. We can't lose now. All the sophs can do is to +tie the score." + +"Where were our subs to-day?" demanded Daisy Griggs. "I didn't see +either of them." + +"Harriet couldn't stay for practice. She was going to a tea with her +mother," informed Susan. "I don't know where Lucy Warner was. I didn't +see her in school, either." + +"She must be sick. She hasn't been in school for almost a week," +commented Muriel. "She is the queerest-acting girl. You'd think to look +at her that she hated herself and everybody. She makes me think of a +picture of an anarchist I once saw in a newspaper. When she does come to +practice she just sits with her chin in her hands and glowers. I can't +understand how she ever happened to come out of her grouch long enough +to make the team." + +"She's awfully distant," agreed Marjorie dispiritedly. "I have tried to +be nice to her, but it's no use. My, how the wind howls! Listen." Going +to the window of the dressing room, she peered out. "It's a dreadful +day. The walks are solid sheets of ice. The wind blew so hard I could +scarcely keep on my feet this noon." + +"I fell down twice," giggled Susan Atwell. "It didn't hurt me much. I +scraped one hand on a piece of sharp ice, but I'm still alive." + +"Be careful going down the steps," warned Daisy Griggs, ever a youthful +calamity howler. + +"Don't croak, Daisy. If you keep on someone will take a tumble just +because you mentioned it," laughed Muriel. "We can't afford that with +the game so near." + +Dressed at last, their paraphernalia carefully stowed away, the team +trooped from the gymnasium and on to their locker room. "I wish I had +worn my fur coat," lamented Muriel. "I'll surely freeze in my tracks. +Are you ready, girls? Do hurry. I am anxious to face the wind and get it +over with. I think I'll take the car home." + +"Ugh!" shuddered Susan. Issuing from the high school building a blast of +piercing air struck her full in the face. "We'll be blown away before we +get down the steps." + +"Oh, come along, Susie," urged Muriel laughingly. "Don't mind a little +thing like that. Look at me. Here goes." Muriel valiantly essayed the +first icy step. A fresh gust of wind assailing her, the hand holding her +muff sought her face to protect it. + +How it happened no one quite knew. A concerted scream went up from four +throats as Muriel suddenly left her feet to go bumping and sliding down +the long flight of ice-bound steps. She struck the walk in a heap and +lay still. + +"Muriel!" Forgetting the peril of the steps, Marjorie took them +heedlessly, but safely. A faint moan issued from Muriel's lips as she +knelt beside her. Muriel moaned again, but tried to raise herself to a +sitting posture. She fell back with a fresh groan. + +"Where are you hurt?" Marjorie slipped a supporting arm under her. By +this time the others had safely made the descent and were gathered about +the two. + +"It's my right shoulder and arm. I'm afraid my arm is broken," gasped +Muriel, her face white with pain. + +"Let me see." Marjorie tenderly felt of the injured member. "Do I hurt +you much?" she quavered solicitously. + +"Not--much. I guess it's--not--broken. It's my shoulder that hurts most." + +Several persons had now gathered to the scene. A man driving past in an +automobile halted his car. Leaping from the machine he ran to the scene. +"Someone hurt?" was his crisp question. "Can I be of service?" + +"Oh, if you would." Marjorie's face brightened. "Miss Harding fell down +those steps. She's badly hurt." + +"Where does she live? I'll take her home," offered the kindly motorist. +Lifting Muriel in his arms he carried her to the car and gently +deposited her in its tonneau. "Perhaps you'd better come with her," he +suggested. + +"Thank you, I will. Good-bye, girls. Go on over to my house and wait for +me. I'll be there in a little while." Lifting her hand to the three +frightened girls, who had advanced upon the machine with sundry other +curious pedestrians, Marjorie gave Muriel's rescuer the Hardings' +address, climbed into the car and slammed the door shut. + +"Poor Muriel," wailed Daisy Griggs, as the car rolled away. "I told her +to be careful. I hope she isn't hurt much. And the game next week!" + +Three pairs of startled eyes met and conveyed the same dismaying +thought. What would the team do without Captain Muriel? + + + + +CHAPTER XXV--A STRENUOUS HIKE TO A TRYING ENGAGEMENT + + +Everybody knows the trite saying: "It never rains but that it pours." +The disasters of the following week seemed quite in accord with it. +Muriel's spectacular slide down the ice steps brought her a broken +collarbone. The three anxious girls had awaited news of Muriel at +Marjorie's home had hardly taken their leave when the ring of the +postman brought her fresh misery. Little knowing what he did, that +patient individual handed Marjorie a letter which filled her with angry +consternation. Why in the world had the hated Observer come to life +again at such a time? + +Without waiting to read the unwelcome epistle in her Captain's presence, +Marjorie ripped open the envelope with a savage hand. This time the +unknown was detestably brief, writing merely: + + "Miss Dean: + + "I hope you lose the game next Saturday. You are more of a snob than + ever. Defeat will do you good. Prepare to meet it. + + "The Observer." + +"Oh!" Marjorie dashed the offending letter to the floor. Muriel's +accident was bad enough. It had not needed this to complete her +dejection. Recapturing the spiteful message she was about to tear it +into bits. On second reflection she decided to keep it and add it to her +obnoxious collection. Something whispered to her that the identity of +the tormenting Observer would yet be revealed to her. + +Facing the lamentable knowledge that Muriel must be counted out of the +coming contest, Harriet replaced her. This in itself provided a grain of +comfort. Harriet was a skilful player and would work for the success of +the team with all her energy. The other four players congratulated +themselves on thus having such able support. Due to Muriel's absence, +Marjorie had been asked to assume temporary captainship. Her mind now at +ease by reason of Harriet's good work, she gave her most conscientious +attention to practice. + +Matters skimmed along with commendable smoothness until the Wednesday +before the game. Then she encountered a fresh set-back. Word came to her +that Susan Atwell had succumbed to the dreaded tonsilitis that all +through the winter had been going its deadly round in Sanford. On +receipt of the news she recalled that for the past two days Susan had +complained of sore throat. She had given it no serious thought, however. +Her own throat had also troubled her a trifle since that stormy day when +Muriel had come to grief. There was but one thing to do. Put Lucy Warner +in Susan's position. Her heart almost skipped a beat as she faced the +fact that Lucy, too, had been absent from school for over a week. +Someone had said that Lucy was also ill. Marjorie reproached herself for +not having inquired more closely about the peculiar green-eyed junior. +"I ought to have gone to see her," she reflected. "I'll go to-night. +Perhaps she is almost well by this time, and can come back to school in +time for the game. If she can't, then I'd better ask Mignon to play in +Susan's place." + +School over for the day she accosted Jerry and Irma with, "I can only +walk as far as the corner with you to-night. I'm going to see Lucy +Warner. She's been sick for over a week. Did you ever hear of such bad +luck as the team has been having lately? I feel so discouraged and tired +out. I don't believe I'll try for the team next year." Marjorie's +usually sprightliness was entirely missing. Her voice had taken on a +weary tone and her brown eyes had lost their pretty sparkle. + +"You'd better go straight home and take care of _yourself_," gruffly +advised Jerry, "or you won't be fit to play on the team Saturday." + +"Oh, I'm all right." Marjorie made an attempt to look cheerful. "I'm not +feeling ill. My throat is a little bit sore. I caught cold that day +Muriel fell down the steps. But it's nothing serious. I shall go to bed +at eight o'clock to-night and have a long sleep. I'm just tired; not +sick. I must leave you here. Good-bye. See you to-morrow." Nodding +brightly she left the two and turned down a side street. + +"See us to-morrow," sniffed Jerry. "Humph! I doubt it, unless we go to +her house. She's about half sick now. It's the first time I ever saw her +look that way. She's so brave, though. She'd fight to keep up if she +were dying." + +Meanwhile, as she plodded down the snowy street on her errand of mercy, +Marjorie was, indeed, fighting to make herself believe that she was +merely a little tired. Despite her languor, generosity prompted her to +stop in passing a fruit store and purchase an attractive basket filled +with various fruits likely to tempt the appetite of a sick person. She +wondered if Lucy would resent the offering. She was such a queer, +self-contained little creature. + +"What a dingy house!" was her thought, as she floundered her way through +a stretch of deep snow to Lucy's unpretentious home. Detached from its +neighbors, it stood unfenced, facing a bit of field, which the small +boys of Sanford used in summer as a ball ground. It was across this +field that Marjorie was obliged to wend a course made difficult by a +week's fall of snow that blanketed it. An irregular path made by the +passing and repassing of someone's feet led up to the door. It appeared +that the Warners were either too busy or else unable to clear their +walk. + +Finding no bell, Marjorie removed her glove and knocked on the +weather-stained front door. It was opened by a frail little woman with a +white, tired face and faded blue eyes. She stared in amazement at the +trim, fur-coated girl before her, whose attractive appearance betokened +affluence. "How do you do?" she greeted in evident embarrassment. + +"Good afternoon. Are you Mrs. Warner?" Marjorie asked brightly. "I have +come to see Lucy. How is she to-day? I am Marjorie Dean." + +"Oh, are you Miss Dean? I mailed a letter she wrote you several days +ago. Come in, please," invited the woman cordially. "I am very glad to +see you. I am sure Lucy will be. She is better but still in bed. Will +you take off your wraps?" + +"No, thank you. I can't stay very long. I feel guilty at not coming to +see her sooner. What is the trouble with her--tonsilitis? So many people +in Sanford are having it." Marjorie looked slightly mystified over Mrs. +Warner's reference to the letter. She had received no letter from Lucy. +She decided, however, that she would ask Lucy. + +"No; she was threatened with pneumonia, but managed to escape with a +severe cold. I will take you to her. She is upstairs." + +Following Mrs. Warner up a narrow stairway that led up from a bare, +cheerless sitting room, Marjorie was forced to contrast the dismal place +with the Deans' luxurious living room. Why was it, she sadly pondered, +that she had been given so much and Lucy so little? The Warners' home +was even more poverty-stricken than the little gray house in which +Constance Stevens had once lived. Then she had deplored that same +contrast between herself and Constance. + +"Miss Dean has come to see you, Lucy," said Mrs. Warner. Marjorie had +followed the woman into a plain little bedroom, equally bare and +desolate. + +"You!" Glimpsing Marjorie behind her mother, Lucy sat up in bed, her +green eyes growing greener with horrified disapproval. + +"Yes, I." Marjorie flushed as she strove to answer playfully. That +single unfriendly word of greeting had wounded her deeply. The very fact +that, half sick herself, she had waded through the snow to call on Lucy +gave her a fleeting sense of injury. She tried to hide it by quickly +saying: "I must apologize for not visiting you sooner. Our team has had +so many mishaps, I have been busy trying to keep things going. I brought +you some fruit to cheer you up." + +"I will leave you girls to yourselves," broke in Mrs. Warner. As she +went downstairs she wondered at her daughter's ungracious behavior to +this lovely young friend. Lucy was such a strange child. Even she could +not always fathom her odd ways. + +"Why have you come to see me?" demanded Lucy, hostile and inhospitable. +All the time her lambent green eyes remained fixed upon Marjorie. + +"Why shouldn't I come to see you?" Marjorie gave a nervous little laugh. +Privately she wished she had not come. Embarrassment at the unfriendly +reception drove the question of the letter from her mind. + +"You never noticed me in school," pursued Lucy relentlessly. "Why should +you now?" + +"You would never let me be friends with you," was Marjorie's honest +retort. "I've tried ever so many times. I have always admired you. You +are so bright and make such brilliant recitations." + +"What does that matter when one is poor and always out of things?" came +the bitter question. + +"Oh, being poor doesn't count. It's the real you that makes the +difference. When I was a little girl we were quite poor. We aren't rich +now; just in comfortable circumstances. If I chose my friends for their +money I'd be a very contemptible person. You mustn't look at matters in +that light. It's wrong. It shuts you away from all the best things in +life; like love and friendship and contentment. I wish you had said this +to me long ago. Then we would have understood each other and been +friends." + +"I can never be your friend," stated the girl solemnly. + +"Why not?" Marjorie's eyes widened. "Perhaps I ought not to ask you +that. It sounded conceited. I can't blame you if you don't like me. +There are many persons I can't like, either. Sometimes I try to like +them, but I seldom succeed," she made frank admission. + +"You are a puzzling girl," asserted Lucy, her green eyes wavering under +Marjorie's sweetly nave confession. "Either you are very deceitful, or +else I have made a terrible mistake." She suddenly lay back in bed, half +hiding her brown head in the pillow. + +"I would rather think that you had made a mistake." The rose in +Marjorie's cheeks deepened. "I try never to be deceitful." + +Lucy did not reply, but buried her face deeper in the pillow. An +oppressive silence ensued, during which Marjorie racked her brain as to +what she had best say next. What ailed Lucy? She was even queerer than +Marjorie had supposed. + +With a convulsive jerk Lucy suddenly sat upright. Marjorie was relieved +to observe no indication of tears in the probing green eyes. She had +feared Lucy might be crying. Why she should cry was a mystery, however. + +"If you had made a mistake about someone and then done a perfectly +dreadful thing and afterward found out that it was all a mistake, what +would you do?" Lucy queried with nervous intensity. + +"I--that's a hard question to answer. It would depend a good deal on what +I had done and who the person was." + +"But if the person didn't know that it was you who did it, would you +tell them?" continued Lucy. + +"If I had hurt them very much, I think my conscience would torment me +until I did," Marjorie said slowly. "It would be hard, of course, but it +would be exactly what I deserved. But why do you ask me such strange +things?" + +"Because I must know. I've done something wrong and I've got to face it. +I've just found out that I have a very lively conscience. What you said +is true. I deserve to suffer. I am the Observer." Lucy dropped back on +her pillow, her long, black lashes veiling her peculiarly colored eyes. + +Undiluted amazement tied Marjorie's tongue. Staring at the pitifully +white, small face against the pillow, she came into a flashing, +emotional knowledge of the embittered spirit that had prompted the +writing of those vexatious letters. "You poor little thing!" she cried +out compassionately. The next instant her soft hands held one of Lucy's +in a caressing clasp. + +Lucy's heavy lids lifted. "I don't wonder your friends love you," she +said somberly. Her free hand came to rest lightly on Marjorie's arm. "I +know now that I could have been your friend, too." + +"But you shall be from this minute on," Marjorie replied, her pretty +face divinely tender. "You've proved your right to be. It was brave in +you to tell me. If you hadn't been the right sort of girl you might have +decided to like me and kept what you told me to yourself. I would never +have known the difference. I am glad that I do know. It takes away the +shadow. I understand that you must have suffered a great deal. I blame +myself, too. I'm afraid I've thought too much about my own pleasure and +seemed snobbish." + +"I wouldn't have done it, only one Sunday when you were walking along +with that Miss Macy and that girl who used to live at your house, I met +you and you didn't speak to me. All three of you were dressed +beautifully. It made me feel so bad. I was wearing an old gray suit, and +I thought you cut me on account of my clothes. I know now that I was +wrong. That was the beginning of the mistake. Then when you girls had +those expensive basket ball suits made, I thought you chose them just to +be mean to me. Of course, I didn't expect to be invited to your parties, +but it hurt me to be passed by all the time in school." + +"I never saw you that day, and I'm sure we never thought about how it +might look to others when we ordered our suits. You've taught me a +lesson, Lucy. One ought to be made careful about such things in a large +school. Someone is sure to be made unhappy. Now we must put all the bad +things away for good and think only of the nice ones. When you get well +you are going to have some good times with me. My friends will like you, +too. No one must ever know about--well, about the mistake." + +But Lucy could not thus easily take things for granted. Remorse had set +in and she felt that she ought to be punished for her fault. After +considerable cheerful persuasion, Marjorie brought her into an easier +frame of mind. When finally she said good-bye she left behind her a most +humble Observer who had given her word thereafter to observe life from a +happier angle. + +Once away from the house a feeling of heavy lassitude overwhelmed the +patient Lieutenant. It had been a strenuous hike to a trying engagement. +Her head swam dizzily as she stumbled through the drifted field to +better walking. Her wet shoes and stockings added to her misery. How her +cheeks burned and how dreadfully her throat ached! Was Jerry's +prediction about to be fulfilled? Was she only tired out, or had actual +sickness descended upon her just when she needed most to be well? + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI--"TURN ABOUT is FAIR PLAY" + + +"What did I tell you yesterday?" saluted Jerry Macy, the instant she +found opportunity to address Irma Linton the next morning. "Marjorie's +sick. Her mother telephoned me before I started for school. She came +from Lucy Warner's yesterday so sick she couldn't see straight. Her +mother put her to bed and sent for the doctor. She has tonsilitis. Isn't +that hard luck?" + +"I should say so. Poor Marjorie. I was afraid of that yesterday. You +know she said her throat was sore." Irma looked unutterably sympathetic. +"And the game on Saturday, too. But it can't be played with Marjorie, +Muriel and Susan all laid up. That leaves only Rita, Daisy and Harriet +on the team." + +"The sophomores will have to call it off," decreed Jerry. "It's only +fair. The juniors did that very thing when two of the sophs were sick." + +"You'd better see Ellen this noon or before, if you can, and tell her," +Irma advised. "Then she can break it to the sophs to-day." + +"I'm going to wait for her in the senior locker room this noon," nodded +Jerry. "Then she can post a notice at once. Now I must beat it for Csar +recitation. I wished he'd been killed in his first battle. It would have +saved me a good deal of bother." Jerry's jolly chuckle belied her +vengeful comment on the valorous general. + +"You don't say so!" exclaimed Ellen when Jerry broke the news to her. +"That _is_ too bad. Certainly the game will have to be postponed. I'll +write a notice instantly asking the sophs to meet me in the gym at four +this afternoon. I must call up on the 'phone and inquire for Marjorie. +Dear little girl, I wish I could do a great deal more for her. Thank you +for telling me, Jerry." Ellen hurried off to write and then post the +notice before going home to luncheon. Her lips wore a quizzical smile. +She wondered what the sophomore team would say when she told them. + +She had just finished tucking it into the bulletin board when Nellie +Simmons, a member of the sophomore team, paused curiously to read it. +The very fact that it came from Ellen's hands indicated basket ball +news. "Hmm!" she ejaculated as she took in its contents. "What's the +matter now?" + +"I'll tell you at four o'clock," Ellen flashed back. With a slight lift +of her shoulders, she walked away. Nellie's tone had verged on the +insolent. She had hardly disappeared when Nellie faced about and hurried +toward the sophomore locker room, bumping smartly against Rowena +Farnham, who was in the act of leaving it. + +"Look out!" cried Rowena. "What are you trying to do? I'm not made of +iron." + +"Oh, Rowena, I was hurrying to find you!" exclaimed Nellie. "Ellen +Seymour just posted a notice on the bulletin board for the team to meet +her in the gym at four o'clock. I think I know what it's about. Marjorie +Dean is sick. I heard Jerry Macy tell Esther Lind. You know what that +means to the junior team, with two others away from it. I'm sure Ellen's +going to ask us to postpone the game." + +"I'll forgive you for almost knocking me down," laughed Rowena, her +black eyes glowing. "So Miss Seymour thinks we will postpone the game to +please her and that goody-goody Dean girl. I'll see that she gets a +surprise. Lucky you came to me. I can fix things before I go home to +luncheon. I'm going to have a talk with Miss Davis." + +Leaving Nellie plunged in admiration at her daring tactics, Rowena sped +up the basement stairs and down the corridor toward Miss Davis's tiny +office. "How are you, Miss Davis?" was her offhand greeting. "I've come +to you for help." + +Miss Davis viewed her visitor with mild disapproval. "I don't care to +implicate myself in any more of your tangles, Rowena," she declared +firmly. + +"Oh, this isn't entirely my affair. It's about basket ball, though. That +Dean girl is sick and Miss Seymour is going to ask us to postpone the +game just on her account. Of course, we'll say 'no,' but Miss Seymour +won't mind that unless you stand by us. It's pure favoritism. Miss +Harding and Miss Atwell are sick, too. Even so, there are three of the +team left. If you say the game must go on, it will give poor Mignon a +chance to sub in the Dean girl's place. That Esther Lind played on the +sophomore team last year. She could fill the other position and we could +have the game. Miss Seymour knows that, but she won't pay any attention +to it. Mignon ought to have been chosen in the first place. You owe it +to her to do this for her. Besides, it will give you a good chance to +even things with the Seymour-Dean combination." + +"I don't like your tone, Rowena. It's hardly respectful. As a teacher I +have no desire to 'even things,' as you express it." Miss Davis's +censure did not ring true. She knew that this domineering girl had no +illusions concerning her dignity of position. + +Rowena merely smiled in the bold, cheerful fashion that she always +adopted and which passed for real good humor. She did not take Miss +Davis at her word. "Think it over," she advised. "You know you detest +favoritism." She was well aware that Miss Davis deplored it, only to +practise it as regarded herself and Mignon. Mignon in particular had +always ranked high in her favor. + +To have heard Rowena thus pleading her cause would have astonished +Mignon not a little. It was by this very means that Rowena proposed to +seek her and win back the French girl's allegiance. Without her +companionship, school had become very tame for lawless Rowena. + +"When is this meeting to take place?" asked Miss Davis with +well-simulated indifference. + +"At four o'clock." Rowena thrilled with triumph. She knew she had gained +her point. + +"I may attend it," was the teacher's vague promise. + +"Thank you. I hope for Mignon's sake you'll be there." With this sly +reminder Rowena set off, determining to waylay Mignon on her walk back +from luncheon. Not troubling to go home that noon, Rowena swallowed a +hasty luncheon at a nearby delicatessen shop and posted herself at a +corner, which Mignon was due to pass. + +"Wait a minute, Mignon," she hailed, as the latter was about to pass her +by with a haughty toss of her head. "You must listen to me. I've just +fixed it for you to play on the junior team Saturday." + +Astounded by this remarkable statement, Mignon halted. Rowena had +guessed that she would. "I don't understand you," she said haughtily. + +"Yes, you do," assured Rowena blithely. "Three of the juniors are sick. +I just asked Miss Davis to let you help out. She is going to see Miss +Seymour about it this afternoon. All you have to do is to keep still +until you're asked to play, then say 'yes.' Now do you believe I'm your +friend?" she concluded in triumph. + +Mignon's inimitable shrug went into play. "You are very kind," she +returned with a trace of sarcasm. "It's about time you did something to +make up for all the trouble you caused me." + +"That's just it." Rowena clutched at this providential straw, which +Mignon had unwittingly cast to her. "I _am_ trying to make it up to you. +I won't bother you any more now. But I hope----" she paused significantly. + +"You may walk to school with me," graciously permitted Mignon. The old +fascination of Rowena's lawlessness was beginning to steal over her. + +"Thank you." Rowena spoke humbly. Inwardly she was jubilant. She was +obliged to endure these stupid persons, but they were all her pawns, +willed to move about at her dictation. + +After she had left Rowena in the corridor, Mignon indulged in sober +speculation. There was more to the affair than appeared on the surface. +Formerly she would have entered into it with avidity. Now she was bound +to respect her father's mandate or be packed off to a convent school. +She alone knew positively that recent association with Marjorie and her +chums had not changed her. But she must make a pretense at keeping up an +appearance of amiable docility. Rowena's words still sounded in her ears +like a clarion call to battle. But she was resolved to do nothing rash. +She would wait and see before accepting the chance to play on the junior +team. It was lucky that she need not lend her presence to the meeting +that afternoon. + +When at four o'clock Ellen Seymour put the matter of postponement to +five impassive-faced girls, she was not greatly surprised to listen to +their unanimous refusal to consider the proposal. One and all they +stolidly set themselves against it. + +"You forget that the juniors treated you very nicely when your team met +with misfortune," reminded Ellen gravely. She had vowed within herself +that she would not lose her temper. + +This reminder brought stubborn replies of, "That was different," and +"They have plenty of equally good players to draw from." + +In the midst of the discussion, Miss Davis appeared on the scene. Ellen +understood only too well what that meant. "What seems to be the matter +here?" she asked. "Are you discussing the question of postponing the +game?" + +Rowena cast a sidelong glance of triumph toward Nellie Simmons, which +said: "What did I tell you?" + +"We are," was Ellen's crisp return. "The game must be postponed." + +It was an unlucky speech on Ellen's part. Miss Davis had entered the +gymnasium only half decided upon championing Rowena's cause. The cool +decision in the senior's tones angered her. "I hardly think that will be +necessary," she retorted. "Three of the juniors are ready to play. Miss +La Salle and Miss Lind can substitute for the others. The game will go +forward on Saturday." + +"That is absolutely unfair," cried Ellen. "The juniors were extremely +lenient with----" + +"That will do." Miss Davis held up an authoritative hand. "Another word +and I will report you to Miss Archer. Then there will be _no_ game on +Saturday." + +Ellen did not answer this threat. Her head erect, color high, she walked +from the gymnasium and straight to Miss Archer's office. _She_ had not +threatened. She intended to act and act quickly. + +"Miss Archer, I have something important to say to you," she burst forth +on entering the principal's office. + +"Sit down, Ellen. I am sure it must be. Don't tell me it is basket +ball!" Miss Archer's lips tightened. + +"But it is." Impetuously, Ellen poured forth her story. When she had +finished, Miss Archer's face was not good to see. + +"I'll attend to this, Ellen. You did right to come to me. There will be +no game on Saturday." + +The following morning five girls received a summons to the principal's +office that put fear into their hearts. When, one by one, they appeared, +she motioned them to be seated until the last one had completed the line +on the oak bench. Swinging in her chair, she faced them with: "There is +an old saying, girls, 'Turn about is fair play.' Since you seem to have +forgotten it, I am forced to remind you. I understand that you asked the +juniors to postpone the first basket ball game of the season, due to the +fact that your team was temporarily incapacitated. They did so. That in +itself points to an adherence to fair play. Very well. Now there comes a +time when the situation reverses itself. Having proved themselves +honorable, the juniors have called for a like demonstration of honor on +the part of the sophomores. You know best what has happened. You have +shown yourselves not only grossly ungrateful, but unfit to be trusted. +No one enjoys dealing with ingrates. One understands precisely what one +may expect from such persons. + +"During the year I have not been pleased with the various reports which +have been brought to me concerning sophomore and junior basket ball; +particularly sophomore basket ball. It is not long since I was obliged +to interfere with sophomore methods. At that time I stated that a +repetition of such unfair tactics would result in the stoppage of the +game for the rest of the year. I now declare the sophomore and junior +teams disbanded. There will be no more games between them this year. I +have just one thing further to say. It is unfortunate that the innocent +should be obliged to suffer with the guilty. You are dismissed." + +A wavering breath of dismay passed along the row of girls as Miss Archer +pronounced sentence upon them. Their own treachery had proved a +boomerang. Dejection laid heavy hand upon four of them, as with downcast +eyes they rose and quitted the place of judgment. But the fifth member +of the disbanded team was not thus so easily dismissed. Far from +disheartened, Rowena Farnham sprang forward, hands clenched at her +sides, her face an angry flame. + +"Who are you that you dare talk of unfairness?" In her devouring rage +she fairly screamed the question. "You have disbanded the team just to +please that smug-faced, priggish Marjorie Dean. You are not fit to have +charge over a school of girls. I am ashamed to be under the same roof +with you. I shall ask my father----" + +"It strikes me that it is I who should inform your father of your +outrageous behavior to me," interrupted Miss Archer in a stern voice. "I +hardly believe that he would countenance such impudence on your part to +one in authority over you. You may go home and remain away from school +until I send for you. I shall insist on an interview with your father at +the earliest possible moment in order to decide what is to be done with +you." + +"You won't have to insist on seeing him," sneered Rowena. "He will call +on you this afternoon. My father won't see me abused by you. He will use +his influence with the Board of Education. Then _you_ won't be principal +of Sanford High School." With this furious prediction of downfall Rowena +flung herself out of the office, confident that she had delivered a +telling thrust. Not daring to return to the study hall she sped to the +locker room, hastily seized her wraps and departed for her father's +office in high dudgeon. + +The brilliantly-colored account of Miss Archer's misdeeds which she +poured into the ears of her too-credulous father sent him on the trail +of the offending principal with fury in his eye. Less than an hour after +Rowena had made her sensational exit, a very tall, red-haired, red-faced +man stalked into Miss Archer's office with the air of a blood-thirsty +warrior. + +"Madam," he thundered, omitting polite preliminaries, "I am Mr. Farnham +and I wish you to understand most emphatically that you cannot criticize +my methods of bringing up my daughter. Though she may need occasional +mild discipline it is extreme bad taste in you to cast unjust +reflections upon her parents." + +"I was not aware that I had done so." Miss Archer had risen to confront +the slandered (?) parent. She met his angry gaze unflinchingly. "I had +intended to send for you, however. Now that you are here we may as well +settle matters at once. Your daughter----" + +"My daughter has been shamefully abused," cut in Mr. Farnham +majestically. "I regret that I ever allowed her to enter a public +school. I shall remove her at once from it. The contaminating +influence----" + +It was Miss Archer's turn to interrupt in clear, cutting speech. "Allow +me to amend your last statement to _her_ contaminating influence. Your +daughter is a trouble-maker. I have borne very patiently with her. I +cannot regret your decision to remove her from Sanford High School. It +simplifies matters immeasurably." + +Miss Archer's quiet, but intense utterance sent an unbidden thrill of +consternation over the irate man. His blustering manner had not +intimidated this regal, calm-featured woman. He experienced a sudden +sense of defeat. Fearful lest he might reveal it, he cut his call short +with, "My daughter will not return to school. Good morning." + +Miss Archer bowed him out, feeling sorry rather than displeased with the +big, blustering man whom fatherly love had blinded to his daughter's +faults. She wondered when, if ever, his eyes would be opened. Under what +circumstances would he awaken to full knowledge of the real Rowena? + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII--THE FIRST DUTY OF A SOLDIER + + +"And we can have the party in her room? Oh, fine! You're awfully dear, +Mrs. Dean. We'll be there at two this afternoon. Good-bye." Jerry Macy +hung up the telephone receiver and did an energetic dance about the +hall. + +"Training for the Russian Ballet?" asked Hal, as, emerging from the +breakfast room, he beheld Jerry in the midst of her weird dance. + +"No, you goose. I'm doing a dance of rejoicing. Marjorie's well enough +to see us. We are going to have a party for her this afternoon." + +"You are a lovely girl, Jerry, and you dance beautifully." Hal became +suddenly ingratiating. "Am I invited to the party?" + +"Certainly not. It's an exclusive affair; no boys allowed. You may send +Marjorie some flowers, though. You've only sent them twice this week." + +"I'll do it. What time is the party?" + +"Two o'clock. Get them at Braley's. That's the nicest place." Jerry was +obliged to shout this last after Hal, as, seizing his cap and coat, he +raced out the front door. + +Over two weeks had elapsed since the Thursday morning which had marked +the downfall of basket ball. During that time, Marjorie had lain in her +dainty pink-and-white bed, impatiently wondering if she were ever going +to get well. But one thing had helped to make her trying illness +endurable. Never before had she realized that she had so many friends. +Her pretty "house" looked like a florist's shop and her willow table was +piled with offerings of fruit and confectionery sent her by her devoted +followers. Every day the mail brought her relays of cheery letters, the +burden of which was invariably, "You must hurry and get well." + +And now the day of convalescence had dawned. She was able not only to +sit up, but to take brief strolls about her room. Her faithful Captain +had just brought her word that Jerry and the girls would be with her +that afternoon. What a lot they would have to talk about! Marjorie lay +luxuriously back among her pillows and smilingly patted a fat letter +from Mary Raymond. "How I wish you could be here, too, Lieutenant," she +murmured. "We need you to help us with our good time. Connie's coming +over early to help Captain dress me in my wonderful new pink negligee. +It has ruffles and ruffles. I wish you could see it, Mary." + +"_You_ are only playing invalid," laughingly accused Constance Stevens. +It was a little after one o'clock. She and Mrs. Dean had just finished +arraying Marjorie in the half-fitted pink silk negligee that had been +one of Captain's cheer-up gifts to her. "I never before saw you look so +pretty, Marjorie," she declared, as she stepped back to view the effect. +"You ought always to wear your hair down your back in long curls." + +"Just imagine how I'd look. And I so nearly a senior, too. Connie, do +you suppose Mignon will come to my party?" Marjorie asked with sudden +irrelevance. + +"When I invited her to it she said she'd come," returned Constance. "You +can't tell much about her, though. The day before Miss Archer forbade +basket ball I saw Rowena stop her and walk into school with her. I +thought it rather queer. She had said so much against Rowena after that +night at Riverview." + +"She is a strange girl," mused Marjorie. "I am not very sorry that +Rowena Farnham has left high school. Judging from what you just said, it +wouldn't have been long until they grew chummy again. Rowena would have +found a way to win Mignon over to her." + +In making this prediction Marjorie had spoken more accurately than she +knew. Emboldened by her success in once more attracting Mignon's +attention to herself, Rowena had planned to follow that move with others +equally strategic. But before she had found opportunity for a second +interview, basket ball had been doomed and she had ceased to be a pupil +of Sanford High. + +Being among the first to get wind of Miss Archer's decree and Rowena's +exodus from school, Mignon secretly rejoiced in the thought that she had +not been implicated in the affair. She had fully made up her mind to +accept the invitation to play on the junior team, were it extended to +her. When she discovered the true state of matters, she made haste to +declare openly that had she been asked, nothing would have induced her +to accept the offer. As for Rowena, she should have known better. After +the shabby treatment she had received from Rowena, it was ridiculous in +her to dream that she, Mignon, would lend herself to anything so +contemptible. A few such guileful speeches to the more credulous girls +caused Mignon's stock to rise considerably higher. Others who knew her +too well looked wise and held their peace. Mignon alone knew just how +narrowly she had missed falling into a pit of Rowena's digging. + +Quiet Constance entertained her own view of the incident. It coincided +completely with Marjorie's thoughtful opinion. "It's hard to part a pair +of girls like those two," she said. "They have too much in common. +Between you and me, I don't imagine Mignon will stick to us very long. +She's not interested in us." + +"No, I suppose she thinks us rather too stiff-necked. Oh, well, we can +only do our best and let the future take care of itself. There's the +doorbell, Connie. That must be Jerry. She told Captain she'd come over +early. Will you go down and escort her in state to my house?" + +Constance vanished to return almost immediately, but without Jerry. She +had not come back empty-handed, however. A large, white pasteboard box +bearing the name "Braley's" revealed the fact that Hal had outstripped +his sister. + +"Oh, the gorgeous things!" gurgled Marjorie, as she lifted a great sheaf +of long-stemmed pink rosebuds from the box. Her pale cheeks took color +from the roses as she spied Hal's card with a cheering message written +underneath in his flowing, boyish hand. "He's been such a comfort! Just +as soon as I get well I'm going to have a little dance and invite all +the boys." Marjorie touched the fragrant token with a friendly hand. +"Laurie sent me some violets yesterday. Those on the chiffonier." + +"He sent me some, too," admitted Constance rather shyly. + +"How strange!" dimpled Marjorie. "Oh, there's the bell again! That +surely must be Jerry!" + +Before Constance was half way downstairs, Jerry was half way up, her +broad face beaming, her arms laden with a large, round object, strangely +resembling a cake. + +"Oh, take it!" she gasped. "My arms are breaking." + +Constance coming to her rescue, the two girls soon made haven with +Marjorie and a lively chattering began. Frequent alarms at the front +door denoted steadily arriving guests and a little past two found +Marjorie's strictly informal reception in full swing, with girls tucked +into every convenient corner of her room. Her own particular chums, +including Ellen Seymour and Esther Lind, were all there. Even Susan and +Muriel, who had been busy getting well while she lay ill, were able to +be present. Lucy Warner was also among the happy throng, a trifle shy, +but with a new look of gentleness in her green eyes and a glad little +smile on her somber face. + +Mignon appeared, but did not stay to the merry-making. She was full of +polite sympathy and apparently bent on doing the agreeable. But in her +black eyes lay a curious, furtive expression, which Marjorie mentally +decided made her look more than ever like the Evil Genius. After a +sojourn of perhaps twenty minutes, during which she walked about +restlessly from girl to girl, exchanging commonplaces, she pleaded an +engagement and took her leave. + +Her presence somewhat of a strain, her departure was not mourned. Now +wholly congenial, the party dropped all reserve and became exceedingly +hilarious. Despite Mrs. Dean's protests, they had insisted on bringing +their own refreshments, and later on Marjorie's pink-and-white house was +turned into a veritable picnic ground. Jerry's weighty contribution +turned out to be an immense many-layered cake, thickly iced and +decorated. "A regular whale of a cake," she styled it, and no one +contradicted her. After the luncheon had been eaten to the ceaseless +buzz of girlish voices, each trying to out-talk the other, the company +proceeded further to amuse the lovely convalescent with various funny +little stunts at their command. + +"Girls," at last reminded thoughtful Irma, "it is after four o'clock. We +mustn't tire Marjorie out. I move we go downstairs to the living room +and lift up our voices for her benefit in a good, old-fashioned song. +Then we'll come back, say good-bye and run home." + +The wisdom of Irma's proposal conceded, the singers trooped downstairs. +Presently, through the open door, the sound of their clear, young voices +came up to her as she lay back listening, a bright smile irradiating her +delicate features. It was so beautiful to know that others cared so much +about making her happy. She had so many things to be thankful for. + +Afterward when all except Jerry and Constance had kissed her good-bye +and departed with bubbling good wishes, she said soberly: "Girls, +doesn't it make you positively shiver when you think that next year will +be our last in Sanford High? After that we'll be scattered. Most of us +are going away to college. That means we'll only see each other during +vacations. I can't bear to think of it." + +"Some of us will still be together," declared Jerry stoutly. "Susan, +Muriel and I are going to Hamilton College if you do. You see, you can't +lose us." + +"I don't wish to lose you." Marjorie patted Jerry's hand. Her brown eyes +rested a trifle wistfully on Constance. Marjorie knew, as did Jerry, +that Connie intended to go to New York to study grand opera as soon as +her high school life was over. + +"You are thinking of Connie." Jerry's eyes had followed Marjorie's +glance. "She won't be lost to us. Hamilton isn't so very far from New +York. But what's the use in worrying when we've some of this year left +yet and another year before us? One thing at a time is my motto." + +"You are a philosopher, Jeremiah." Marjorie brightened. "'One thing at a +time,'" she repeated. "That's the right idea. When I go back to school +again, I'm going to try my hardest to make the rest of my junior year a +success. I can't say much about my senior year. It's still an +undiscovered territory. I'm just going to remember that it's a soldier's +first duty to go where he's ordered and ask no questions. When I'm +ordered to my senior year, all I can do is salute the colors and forward +march!" + +"Lead on and we'll follow," asserted Jerry Macy gallantly. "I guess we +can hike along and leave a few landmarks on that precious senior +territory. When I come into senior estate I shall use nothing but the +most elegant English. As I am still a junior I can still say, +'Geraldine, Jerry, Jeremiah, you've got to beat it. It's almost five +o'clock.'" + +Left together, after Jerry had made extravagantly ridiculous farewells, +Constance seated herself beside Marjorie's bed. "Are you tired, +Lieutenant?" was her solicitous question. + +"Not a bit. I'm going to make Captain let me go downstairs to-morrow. +It's time I was up and doing again. I am away behind in my lessons." + +"You'll catch up," comforted Constance. Inwardly she was reflecting that +she doubted whether there were any situation with which Marjorie Dean +could not catch up. Her feet were set in ways of light that wandered +upward to the stars. Though to those who courted darkness it might +appear that she sometimes faltered, Constance knew that those same +steady feet would carry her unfalteringly through her senior year to the +wider life to come. + +How Marjorie explored her new senior territory and what landmarks she +left behind in passing will be told in "Marjorie Dean, High School +Senior." + + THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Marjorie Dean, High School Junior, by +Pauline Lester + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR *** + +***** This file should be named 36823-8.txt or 36823-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/8/2/36823/ + +Produced by Roger Frank, Katherine Ward and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Marjorie Dean, High School Junior + +Author: Pauline Lester + +Release Date: July 23, 2011 [EBook #36823] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank, Katherine Ward and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i001' id='i001'></a> +<img src='images/dean-cvr.jpg' alt='' title=''/><br /> +</div> +<hr class='hr' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i002' id='i002'></a> +<img src="images/dean-fpc.jpg" alt="MARJORIE ENTERED HER MOTHER’S ROOM AND DROPPED DISPIRITEDLY AT HER FEET." title=""/><br /> +<span class='caption'>MARJORIE ENTERED HER MOTHER’S ROOM AND<br/>DROPPED DISPIRITEDLY AT HER FEET.</span> +</div> +<hr class='hr' /> +<div class='center'> +<p style='font-size:1.6em;margin-top:20px;'>MARJORIE DEAN</p> +<p> </p> +<p style='font-size:1.6em;margin-bottom:20px;'>High School Junior</p> +<p> </p> +<p>By PAULINE LESTER</p> +<p> </p> +<p style='font-size:0.8em;'>AUTHOR OF</p> +<p> </p> +<p style='font-size:0.8em;'>“Marjorie Dean, High School Freshman”</p> +<p style='font-size:0.8em;'>“Marjorie Dean, High School Sophomore”</p> +<p style='font-size:0.8em;margin-bottom:20px;'>“Marjorie Dean, High School Senior”</p> +</div> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i003' id='i003'></a> +<img src='images/illus-emb.png' alt='' title=''/><br /> +</div> +<div class='center'> +<p style='margin-top:20px;'>A. L. BURT COMPANY</p> +<p> </p> +<p>Publishers—New York</p> +</div> +<hr class='hr' /> +<div class='center'> +<p>Copyright, 1917</p> +<p>By A. L. <span class='sc'>Burt Company</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p style='font-size:0.8em;'>MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR</p> +</div> +<hr class='hr' /> +<div class='center'> +<p style='font-size:1.6em;'>MARJORIE DEAN,</p> +<p style='font-size:1.6em;'>HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR</p> +</div> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3'></a>3</span>CHAPTER I—MARJORIE DECLARES HERSELF</h2> +<p> +“Only to think, next week, at this time, I’ll be +saying good-bye to you, Mary Raymond.” Marjorie +Dean’s brown eyes rested very wistfully on the +sunny-haired girl beside her in the big porch swing. +</p> +<p> +“You know now, just how dreadfully I felt two +years ago when I had to keep thinking about saying +good-bye to you,” returned Mary in the same wistful +intonation. “It was terrible. And after you +had gone! Well—it was a good deal worse. Oh, +Marjorie, I wish I could live this last year over +again. If only——” +</p> +<p> +Marjorie laid light fingers on Mary’s lips. “You +mustn’t speak of some things, Lieutenant,” she said +quickly. “If you do I won’t listen. Forget everything +except the wonderful summer we’ve had together.” +</p> +<p> +Mary caught the soft little hand in both hers. “It +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4'></a>4</span> +<em>has</em> been wonderful,” she agreed rather unsteadily. +“I’ll have the memory of it to treasure when I’m +away off in Colorado. I can’t believe that I am +really going so far away from you. I hope I’ll like +the West. Next summer you must come out there +and visit me, Marjorie. By that time I’ll be a little +bit at home in such a strange, new country.” +</p> +<p> +“I’d love to do that,” responded Marjorie with +an eagerness that merged almost immediately again +into regretful reflection. +</p> +<p> +A sad little silence fell upon the two in the porch +swing. Each young heart was heavy with dread of +the coming separation. This was the second time +in two years that the call to say farewell had sounded +for Marjorie Dean and Mary Raymond. +</p> +<p> +Those who have followed Marjorie Dean through +her freshman and sophomore years at high school +are already familiar with the details of Mary’s and +Marjorie’s first separation. In “<span class='sc'>Marjorie Dean</span>, +<span class='sc'>High School Freshman</span>,” was recorded the story +of the way in which Marjorie had come to leave +her chum at the beginning of their first year in +Franklin High School, in the city of B——, to +take up her residence in the far-off town of Sanford, +there to become a freshman at Sanford High. In +her new home she had made many friends, chief +among them Constance Stevens, to whom she had +been greatly drawn by reason of a strong resemblance +between Constance and Mary. In an earnest +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5'></a>5</span> +endeavor to bring sunshine to the former’s poverty-stricken +lot she had thereby involved herself in a +series of school-girl difficulties, which followed her +throughout the year. True to herself, Marjorie met +them bravely and conquered them, one by one, proving +herself a staunch follower of the high code of +honor she had adopted for her own. +</p> +<p> +With the advent of Mary Raymond into her home +for a year’s stay, Marjorie was confronted by a new +and painful problem. “<span class='sc'>Marjorie Dean, High +School Sophomore</span>,” found Marjorie enmeshed in +the tangled web which Mary’s jealousy of Constance +Stevens wove about the three girls. Led into bitter +doubt of Marjorie by Mignon La Salle, a mischief-making +French girl who had made Marjorie’s +freshman days miserable, Mary Raymond had been +guilty of a disloyalty, which had come near to +estranging the two girls forever. It was not until +their sophomore year was almost over that an awakening +had come to Mary, and with it an earnest repentance, +which led to equity and peace. +</p> +<p> +It was to this which Mary had been about to +refer mournfully when Marjorie’s gentle hand had +sealed her repentant utterance. All that summer +the two girls had been earnestly engaged in trying to +make up for those lost days. Constance and Mary +were now on the most friendly terms. The three +had spent an ideal month together at the seashore, +with no hateful shadow to darken the pleasure of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6'></a>6</span> +that delightful outing. Later Constance had left +them to spend the remainder of her vacation with +her family in the mountains. The Deans had lingered +in their seaside cottage until the last of August. +Now September had arrived, her hazy hints +of coming Autumn reminding the world at large that +their summer playtime was over. +</p> +<p> +To Mary Raymond it was a pertinent reminder +that her days under the Deans’ hospitable canopy +were numbered. In fact, only seven of them remained. +On the next Friday morning she would +say her last farewells to speed away to Denver, +Colorado, where, on her invalid mother’s account, +the Raymonds were to make their home. So it is +scarcely to be wondered at that Marjorie and Mary +were decidedly melancholy, as they sat hand in hand, +bravely trying to meet the trial which lay before +them. +</p> +<p> +“I wonder if Jerry will come home to-day.” Marjorie +rose from the swing with an abruptness that +set it to swaying gently. The weight of parting had +grown heavier during that brief silence and she was +very near to tears. +</p> +<p> +“I don’t know. Her letter said Thursday or Friday, +didn’t it?” Mary’s voice shook slightly. She, +too, was on the verge of a breakdown. +</p> +<p> +“Yes.” Marjorie’s back was toward Mary as she +answered. She walked to the end of the spacious +veranda and gazed down the pebbled drive. Just +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7'></a>7</span> +then she felt as though the sight of Geraldine Macy’s +round, good-humored face would be most welcome. +Slowly returning to where Mary still sat, she said: +“As this is Friday, Jerry will surely——” +</p> +<p> +“Marjorie!” called a clear voice from within the +house. “The telephone is ringing.” +</p> +<p> +“Coming, Captain!” Marjorie quickened to sudden +action. “I hope it’s Jerry,” she flung over her +shoulder as she ran to the open door. “Come on, +Mary.” +</p> +<p> +Mary needed no second invitation. By the time +Marjorie had reached the telephone, she was only +a step behind her chum. +</p> +<p> +“Hello! Yes, this is Marjorie. Oh, Jerry!” +Marjorie gave a little squeal of delight. “We were +just talking of you. We wondered if you’d be home +to-day. Won’t you come over now? You will? +Well, then, hurry as fast as ever you can. We’re +crazy to see you. Mary wants to talk to you. Just +say ‘hello’ to her and hang up the receiver.” Marjorie +cast a playful glance at the girl beside her. +“You can talk to her when you get here.” +</p> +<p> +Marjorie held the receiver toward Mary, who +greeted Jerry in brief but affectionate fashion and +obediently hung up. “Always do as your superior +officer tells you,” she commented with a smile. +</p> +<p> +“That’s pure sarcasm,” retorted Marjorie gaily. +“The question is, am I your superior officer or are +you mine? This business of both being lieutenants +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8'></a>8</span> +has its drawbacks. We can never know just who’s +who.” +</p> +<p> +“I ought to be second lieutenant and you first,” +demurred Mary soberly. “I didn’t deserve to become +a first with you last June after——” +</p> +<p> +“Mary!” Marjorie cried out in distressed concern. +Her brown eyes were filled with tender reproach. +“Aren’t you ever going to forget?” +</p> +<p> +“I can’t.” Mary turned her face half away, then +the flood of sadness she had been fighting back all +afternoon overtook her. Stumbling to the stairs +she sat down on the lowest step, her face hidden in +her hands, her shoulders shaking. +</p> +<p> +“Poor, dear Lieutenant.” Her own eyes overflowing, +Marjorie dropped down beside Mary and +wound her arms about the dejected figure. +</p> +<p> +“This is a nice reception! I see I shall have to +welcome myself. Why, how are you, Geraldine? +Boo, hoo! It’s a wonder you wouldn’t ring. You +never did have any manners. I don’t see why you +called, anyway. Boo, hoo!” +</p> +<p> +The first sound of a loud, cheerful voice brought +the weepers to their feet. A loud, anguished “Boo, +hoo!” sent them into half-tearful giggles. +</p> +<p> +“That’s more like it,” approved the stout girl in +the doorway, her round face alive with kindly solicitude. +“If I had sensitive feelings I might think you +were crying because you’d invited me to call. But I +haven’t. Hal says I am the most unfeeling person he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9'></a>9</span> +knows. He only says that when his little sister +can’t see things the way he does.” +</p> +<p> +Jerry rattled off these pleasantries while in the +midst of a rapturous embrace, bestowed upon her +plump person by two now broadly-smiling mourners. +</p> +<p> +“It’s splendid to see you again, Jerry,” caroled +Marjorie, hugging her friend with bearish enthusiasm. +Mary echoed Marjorie’s fervent greeting. +</p> +<p> +“The mere sight of me is always inspiring,” grinned +Jerry, winding an arm about each friend. “I +hope you have both noticed by this time that I am +a great deal thinner than I was last June. I’ve lost +two pounds. Isn’t that some loss?” +</p> +<p> +“Perfectly remarkable,” agreed Marjorie mischievously. +“Come on out on the veranda, Jerry. +We have such a lot to talk about.” +</p> +<p> +Four determined, affectionate arms propelled +Jerry to the wide, vine-decked porch, established her +in the big porch swing, and climbed in beside her. +</p> +<p> +“Now, tell me, children, why these weeps?” Jerry +demanded practically, still retaining her loving hold +of her two friends. +</p> +<p> +“They’ve been on the way all day,” confessed +Marjorie. “We’ve both tried not to cry, but—somehow——” +Her voice faltered. “You see, Jerry, +this is Mary’s and my last week together. Mary’s +going away off to Colorado next week.” +</p> +<p> +“You don’t mean it?” Jerry sat up very straight, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10'></a>10</span> +looking wide-eyed concern. “You never said a thing +about it in your letter. I mean letters. I believe +you did write me two.” Jerry registered comical +accusation. +</p> +<p> +“Don’t remind me of my sins of omission,” Marjorie +laughed, flushing a trifle. “I always mean to +write, but somehow I never do. We didn’t know +until the week before we came from the seashore +that Mary would have to go so soon. We thought +it wouldn’t be until November.” Again her tones +quavered suspiciously. +</p> +<p> +“I see.” Jerry frowned to hide her own inclination +to mourn. During the brief time they were +thrown together, after the reunion of Marjorie and +Mary, she had learned to know and love the real +Mary Raymond. “I’m more sorry than I can say. +I thought we’d all be together for our junior year +at Sanford High.” +</p> +<p> +“Of course, I am anxious to be with mother and +father,” put in Mary loyally, “but I hate to leave +Sanford. There are lots of things I meant to do +this year that I didn’t do last year.” +</p> +<p> +“But you can’t be in two places at once,” was Jerry’s +blunt consolation. “Never mind, Mary, you +can come back to visit us and we’ll write you lots of +letters. Marjorie is such a splendid correspondent.” +Her accompanying jolly chuckle robbed this last pertinent +fling of offence. “We’ll write you all the news. +That reminds me, I’ve some for you girls. You’ll +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11'></a>11</span> +never guess who stayed at the same hotel with us +this summer. I didn’t write about it, because I +wanted to have it to tell when I came home.” +</p> +<p> +Mary cast a sidelong glance at the stout girl. +There had been a faint touch of disgust in Jerry’s +intonation. “Was it—Mignon?” she asked, half +hesitant. +</p> +<p> +“Right you are. How did you guess it?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I just wondered,” was Mary’s brief response. +A tide of red had risen to her white skin, +called there by distressing memories. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, it was our dear Mignon,” continued Jerry +briskly. “And she has a friend, Rowena Farnham, +who likewise stayed at our hotel. Believe me, they +were a well-matched pair. You see the La Salles +usually go to Severn Beach every summer, but they +always stay at Cliff House. We always go to the +Sea Gull. That’s the whole length of the beach from +their hotel. Imagine how pleased I was to see Mignon +come parading down to dinner one evening, +after we’d been there about two weeks. I was so +disgusted that I wanted my father to pack up and +move us over to Cliff House. But he wouldn’t, the +hard-hearted person. +</p> +<p> +“That is only part of my tale. The worst now +comes trailing along. It’s about this Rowena Farnham. +It seems that the Farnhams moved to Sanford +last June just after school closed and——” +</p> +<p> +“Is this Rowena Farnham a very tall, pretty girl +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12'></a>12</span> +with perfectly gorgeous auburn hair and big black +eyes?” broke in Mary abruptly. +</p> +<p> +“Yes. Where did you ever see her?” demanded +Jerry. “Where was I that I didn’t?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I saw her one day in the post-office with +Mignon. It was after you had gone away. I +thought she must be a guest at the La Salles’.” +</p> +<p> +“You thought wrong. She lives in that big house +with the immense grounds just the other side of the +La Salles’ home. It’s the one with that terribly high, +ornamental iron fence. I always used to call it the +Jail. It made me think of one. But that’s not my +news, either. This new girl is going to be a sophomore +at Sanford High. I’m sorry for poor old Sanford +High.” +</p> +<p> +“Why?” A curious note of alarm sprang into +Marjorie’s question. After two stormy years at +high school, she longed for uneventful peace. Jerry’s +emphatic grumble came like a far-off roll of +thunder, prophesying storm. +</p> +<p> +“Why?” Jerry warmed to her subject. “Because +she is a terror. I can see it in her eye. Just now +she and Mignon are as chummy as can be. If they +stay chummy, look out for trouble. If they don’t, +look out for more trouble.” +</p> +<p> +“Perhaps you may find this new girl quite different,” +suggested Mary hopefully. “It’s not fair to +judge her by Mignon. Very likely she hasn’t any +idea that—that——” She was thinking of how +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13'></a>13</span> +completely she had once fallen under Mignon’s +spell. +</p> +<p> +“That Mignon is Mignon, you mean,” interrupted +Jerry. “She ought to know her after being with her +all summer. I’ll bet she does. That’s just why I +think she’s a trouble-maker. They always hang together, +you know.” +</p> +<p> +Marjorie slipped from the swing and faced her +friends with the air of one who has suddenly arrived +at a definite conclusion. For a moment she +stood regarding Jerry in silence, hands clasped behind +her back. +</p> +<p> +“There’s just one thing about it, Jerry,” she began +firmly, “and that is: I <em>will not</em> have my junior +year spoiled by Mignon La Salle or her friends. +Last year we tried to help Mignon and our plan +didn’t work. I thought once that she had a better +self, but now it would take a good deal to make me +believe it. She caused me a great deal of unnecessary +unhappiness and she almost made Constance lose her +part in the operetta. And little Charlie! I can’t forgive +her for the way she treated that baby. This +year I am going to go on with my school just as +though I had never known her. I hope I won’t have +to play on the same basket ball team with her or +against any team that she plays on. I’ve had enough +of Mignon La Salle. I’m going to steer clear of +her.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14'></a>14</span>CHAPTER II—ALL IN HONOR OF MARY</h2> +<p> +“Be sure not to pack your white lace dress, Lieutenant.” +Marjorie delivered this reminder from the +open doorway of the pretty blue room which Mary +had so long regarded as her own special nook. +</p> +<p> +From a kneeling position before her trunk Mary +Raymond turned her head, her eyes two mournful +blue stars. “It’s over there,” she returned, nodding +somberly toward the bed. “Everything else that +had to be packed is packed. I can put my dress in +the last thing to-night. I’m so glad Connie is home +in time to see me off on my journey. I hope she and +Charlie will come over early this afternoon.” +</p> +<p> +“They will.” The blithe assurance held a significance +which Mary did not catch. The shadow of +the coming separation now hung more heavily upon +her. Marjorie’s cheery reply caused her to wonder +vaguely if her chum would really miss her so very +much. The next instant she put the thought away +from her as unworthy. Of course Marjorie would +miss her. Still she could scarcely be blamed if she +did not. In spite of the long, happy summer they +had spent together, occasionally the past rose to torture +Mary. +</p> +<p> +Packing her effects had been a severe trial. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15'></a>15</span> +Everything she touched called forth memories. +There was the blue linen frock she had worn on the +morning of her first entrance into Sanford High +School. The very sight of it filled her with remorse. +And the dress she had worn on Christmas +Day, when the merciful Flag of Truce had bade a +halt to the hostilities which her own unreasonable +jealousy had created. More than one tear had fallen +on the various dainty articles of wearing apparel as +she consigned them to her trunk. She wished above +all to be brave and cheerful, even to the very moment +of farewell, but she found it hard to fight back the +terrible feeling of oppression that clutched at her +heart. +</p> +<p> +From her position in the doorway, Marjorie had +watched Mary for a moment or two before speaking. +She had guessed that the work of packing +would be something of a dolorous labor, which Mary +might prefer to perform alone. At heart she, too, +was sad, but in her mind lurked a pleasant knowledge +which for the present Mary did not share. It +was this particular bit of knowledge that made it +difficult for her to keep a sober face as she met +Mary’s doleful gaze. +</p> +<p> +“I’m going to wear white, too,” she said brightly. +“Captain finished my new lingerie frock yesterday. +As long as you’re through packing, why not get +dressed for dinner now? I’m going to, even if it is +only three o’clock. Then when Connie and Charlie +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16'></a>16</span> +come we can take a stroll down to Sargent’s. That +is, if we care to.” Again her lovely face threatened +to break forth into the smiles. +</p> +<p> +“All right.” Mary’s acquiescence came rather listlessly. +Rising from the floor she began somewhat +spiritless preparations toward making ready to receive +the expected guests. +</p> +<p> +“I’m going to my house now to put on my costliest +raiment.” Flashing a mischievous glance toward +Mary, Marjorie disappeared from the doorway and +tripped down the hall. Once inside her “house,” as +she had whimsically named her pink and white room, +she executed a gleeful little dance for her own benefit. +“She doesn’t suspect a thing,” was her jubilant +comment. +</p> +<p> +But while the two girls were engaged in arraying +themselves to do honor to Constance, a most peculiar +state of affairs was in progress downstairs. +Through the wide flung hall door, one after another +flitted a mysterious procession of girls, moving with +the noiseless tread of a flock of ghosts. Their +bright-eyed, smiling faces and gala attire, however, +marked them as being particularly human. One of +the seven specters bore a strong resemblance to Mary +herself, and the diminutive black-eyed sprite she led +by the hand seemed on the verge of breaking forth +into an ecstatic flow of joyful sounds. +</p> +<p> +Apparently, Mrs. Dean had also been suddenly +bereft of speech. Only her twinkling eyes and smiling +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17'></a>17</span> +lips gave sign of just how greatly welcome were +her silent guests. Ushering them into the living +room she nodded brightly, laid a warning finger to +her lips and softly withdrew, pulling together the +silken portieres. A half-smothered giggle, to which +no self-respecting ghost would have stooped to give +utterance, followed her. Then profound stillness +reigned within. +</p> +<p> +“Are you ready, Mary?” A bewitching, brown-eyed +vision in white pranced in upon Mary as she +was slowly adjusting the soft loops of her wide, +white ribbon sash. “Let me tie your sash.” Marjorie’s +nimble fingers set themselves to work. +“There you are. You do look so perfectly sweet in +white. Now smile and say prettily, ‘Thank you for +them kind words, Miss Marjorie.’ That’s what +Delia always says when she dresses up and I tell +her how fine she looks.” +</p> +<p> +Marjorie’s buoyant spirits were so irresistible as +to bring the coveted light into Mary’s mournful eyes. +“Forward, march! Here we go.” Seizing Mary +gently by the shoulders she marched her down the +hall to the stairway. “Break ranks,” she ordered. +“The gallant regiment can’t afford to tumble downstairs.” +</p> +<p> +“Halt!” came the order, as Mary reached the +lower hall a step ahead of her commander. “We +will now make an invasion on the living room. +Two’s right, march!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18'></a>18</span> +</p> +<p> +Mary obediently marched. Of her own accord +she came to an abrupt halt. “Oh!” she gasped. Her +amazed exclamation was drowned in a chorus of +gleeful shouts as seven very lively apparitions closed +in around her. +</p> +<p> +“Charlie never said a word!” shrieked a high, +triumphant voice. “We comed to see you. Hooray!” +A small, joyful figure hurled itself straight +into Mary’s arms. She stooped and hugged him +close, her golden head bent to the youngster’s. +Straightening, she glimpsed the affectionate circle of +girls through a mist of unbidden tears. “I’m so glad +and so surprised to see all of you,” she faltered. +“And you knew it all the time!” She caught Marjorie’s +hand. +</p> +<p> +“Of course I knew it. Now we are even. You +gave me a surprise party once, so I thought I’d return +the compliment,” laughed Marjorie. “I could +hardly keep it to myself, though. Every time I +looked at you I wanted to say, ‘Cheer up, the best is +yet to come.’” +</p> +<p> +“It’s a good thing it wasn’t long coming,” retorted +Jerry Macy. “I never knew how much I +liked to talk until I had to keep still.” +</p> +<p> +“You must have slipped into the house like shadows,” +declared Mary happily. Her sad expression +had quite vanished with the unexpected honor that +had been done her. She felt that, after all, she held +some small place in the affections of Marjorie’s intimate +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19'></a>19</span> +friends, and the cloud of doubt that had obsessed +her rolled away. +</p> +<p> +“We did do that arriving stunt rather well,” was +Harriet Delaney’s complacent comment. “Of +course, Susie giggled. We expected she would, +though. The rest of us were above reproach.” +</p> +<p> +“No wonder I giggled,” defended Susan Atwell. +“If you had been the last one in line you’d have +laughed, too. You girls looked as if you were trying +to walk on eggshells, and when Jerry crossed the +room in about three steps, it was too much for +me.” Susan’s cheerful chuckle broke forth anew +and went the rounds. +</p> +<p> +“Well, children, what is your pleasure?” inquired +Marjorie. “Shall we stay here, or sit on the veranda, +or establish ourselves in the pagoda, or +what?” +</p> +<p> +“The pagoda for mine,” decided Jerry, “provided +the rest of you are of the same mind. We can sit in +a circle and tell sad stories of the deaths of kings, +etc. All those in favor of this lively pastime please +say ‘Aye;’ contrary, keep quiet.” +</p> +<p> +“Aye,” came the willing response. +</p> +<p> +“What for is ‘Aye?’” calmly demanded Charlie +Stevens of Mary, to whom he had immediately attached +himself. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, it means that Charlie can go out with us +to the summer house and have a nice time, if he +would like to,” explained Mary. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20'></a>20</span> +</p> +<p> +“Charlie don’t want to,” was the frank response. +“Where’s Delia?” Fond recollections of frequent +visits to the Dean kitchen, invariably productive of +toothsome gifts, lurked in the foreground. “Delia +likes to see me.” +</p> +<p> +“You mean you like to see Delia,” laughed Constance. +“But you know you came to see Mrs. Dean +and Marjorie and Mary,” she reminded. +</p> +<p> +“I’ve seen them. Now I have to see Delia.” +</p> +<p> +“Delia wins the day,” smiled Mrs. Dean. “You +are all jilted. Very well, Charlie, you and I will +pay our respects to Delia. Come on.” She stretched +forth an inviting hand to the little boy, who accepted +it joyfully, and trotted off with her to invade good-natured +Delia’s domain. +</p> +<p> +“As long as our one cavalier has been lured away +from us by Delia we might as well try to console +one another,” laughed Marjorie. +</p> +<p> +“He’s growing terribly spoiled,” apologized Constance. +“My aunt adores him and thinks he must +have everything he asks for. He’s a good little boy, +though, in spite of all the petting he gets.” +</p> +<p> +“He’s a perfect darling,” dimpled Susan Atwell. +“He says such quaint, funny things. Has he ever +tried to run away since the night of the operetta?” +</p> +<p> +“No.” Constance made brief reply. Her gaze +wandered to Mary Raymond, who was talking busily +with Harriet Delaney and Esther Lind. The vision +of a fair-haired, blue-eyed girl, leading a small runaway +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21'></a>21</span> +up to the stage door of the theatre rose before +her. Next to Marjorie Dean, Mary ranked second +in her heart. Constance felt suddenly very humble +in the possession of two such wonderful friends. +Life had been kinder to her than she deserved was +her grateful thought. +</p> +<p> +Susan eyed her curiously. Although she was very +fond of Constance, she did not in the least understand +her. Now she said rather timidly, “I hope +you didn’t mind because I spoke of the operetta and +Charlie’s running away, Connie?” +</p> +<p> +Constance promptly came out of her day-dream. +“You brought it all back to me,” she smiled. “I was +just wondering what I’d ever done to deserve such +friends as I’ve made here in Sanford. I can’t bear +to think that Mary won’t be with us this year.” +</p> +<p> +Before Susan could reply, Jerry interrupted them +with, “Come along, girls. The sooner we get settled +the longer we’ll have to talk.” +</p> +<p> +It was a merry, light-hearted band that strolled +out of the house and across the lawn to the honeysuckle-draped +pagoda, situated at the far end of the +velvety stretch of green. Mary and Marjorie +brought up the rear, their arms piled high with +bright-hued cushions, and the guests soon disposed +themselves on the bench built circular fashion +around the pagoda, or sought the comfort of the +several wicker chairs. +</p> +<p> +Brought together again after more than two +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22'></a>22</span> +months’ separation, a busy wagging of tongues was +in order, mingled with the ready laughter that high-spirited +youth alone knows. Everyone had something +interesting to tell of her vacation and rejoiced +accordingly in the telling. Father Time flew in his +fleetest fashion, but no one of the group paid the +slightest attention to the fact. From vacation, the +conversation gradually drifted into school channels +and a lively discussion of junior plans ensued. +</p> +<p> +“By the way, girls,” remarked Jerry Macy with +the careless assumption of casualty which was her +favorite method of procedure when about to retail +some amazing bit of news. “Did you know that +Miss Archer almost decided to resign her position at +Sanford High for one in Chicago?” +</p> +<p> +“Of course <em>we</em> didn’t know it, and <em>you</em> know we +didn’t,” laughed Susan Atwell. “Whenever Jerry +begins with ‘By the way,’ and tries to look innocent +you may know she has something startling to offer.” +</p> +<p> +“Where on earth do you pick up all your news, +Jerry?” asked Constance Stevens. “You always +seem to know everything about everybody.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, it just happens to come my way,” grinned +Jerry. “I heard about Miss Archer from my father. +He’s just been elected to the Board of Education.” +</p> +<p> +“She isn’t really going to leave Sanford High, +is she, Jerry?” An anxious frown puckered Marjorie’s +smooth forehead. She hated to think of +high school without Miss Archer. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23'></a>23</span> +</p> +<p> +“No. At first she thought she would, but afterward +she decided that she’d rather stay here. She +told father that she had grown so fond of the dear +old school she couldn’t bear to leave it. I’m certainly +glad she’s not going to resign. If she did we +might have kind, delightful Miss Merton for a principal. +Then—<em>good night</em>!” Jerry relapsed into +slang to emphasize her disgust of such a possibility. +</p> +<p> +“I shouldn’t like that,” Marjorie remarked bluntly. +“Still, I can’t help feeling a little bit sorry for Miss +Merton. She shuts out all the bright, pleasant things +in life and just sticks to the disagreeable ones. +Sometimes I wonder if she was ever young or had +ever been happy.” +</p> +<p> +“She’s been a regular Siberian crab-apple ever +since I can remember,” grumbled Jerry. “Why, +when I was a kidlet in knee skirts she was the terror +of Sanford High. I guess she must have been +crossed in love about a hundred years ago.” Jerry +giggled a trifle wickedly. +</p> +<p> +“She was,” affirmed quiet Irma with a smile, “but +not a hundred years ago. I never knew it until this +summer.” +</p> +<p> +“Here is something I don’t seem to know about,” +satirized Jerry. “How did that happen, I wonder?” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t keep us in suspense, Irma,” implored Muriel +Harding. “If Miss Merton ever had a love affair +it’s your duty to tell us about it. I can’t imagine +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24'></a>24</span> +such an impossibility. Did it happen here in +Sanford? How did you come to hear of it?” +</p> +<p> +A circle of eager faces were turned expectantly +toward Irma. “My aunt, whom I visited this summer, +told me about it,” she began. “She lived in +Sanford when she was a girl and knew Miss Merton +then. They went to school together. There +were no high schools then; just an academy for +young men and women. Miss Merton was really a +pretty girl. She had pink cheeks and bright eyes +and beautiful, heavy, dark hair. She had a sister, +too, who wasn’t a bit pretty. +</p> +<p> +“They were very quiet girls who hardly ever went +to parties and never paid much attention to the boys +they knew in Sanford. When Miss Merton was +about eighteen and her sister twenty-one, a handsome +young naval officer came to visit some friends +in Sanford on a furlough. He was introduced to +both sisters, and called on them two or three times. +They lived with their father in that little house on +Sycamore Street where Miss Merton still lives. The +young ensign’s furlough was nearly over when he +met them, so he didn’t have much time to get well +acquainted with them. The night before he went +away he asked Miss Merton if he might write to +her and she said ‘Yes.’” +</p> +<p> +“Some story,” cut in Jerry. “And did he write?” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t interrupt me, Jeremiah,” reproved Irma. +“Yes, he wrote, but——” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25'></a>25</span> +</p> +<p> +“Miss Merton never got the letter,” supplemented +the irrepressible Jerry. “That’s the way it always +happens in books.” +</p> +<p> +“All right. You may tell the rest of it,” teased +Irma, her eyes twinkling. +</p> +<p> +“Someone please smother Jerry’s head in a sofa +cushion, so she can’t interrupt,” pleaded Harriet. +</p> +<p> +“Try it,” challenged Jerry. “Excuse me, Irma. +I solemnly promise to behave like a clam. On with +the miraculous, marvelous memoirs of meritorious +Miss Merton.” +</p> +<p> +“Where was I? Oh, yes. The young ensign +wrote, as he thought, to Miss Merton, but in some +way he had confused the two sisters’ first names. +So he wrote to Alice Merton, her sister, instead, +thinking it was our Miss Merton.” +</p> +<p> +“How awful! The very idea! What a dreadful +mistake!” came from the highly interested listeners. +</p> +<p> +“The sister was delighted because she liked the +ensign a lot and thought he didn’t care much about +her. You can imagine how Miss Merton felt. She +never said a word to anyone then about his asking +her if he might write. She thought he had just been +flirting with her when really he had fallen in love +with her. Then his ship went on a trip around the +world, but he kept on writing to the sister, and at +last he asked her to marry him. So they were engaged +and he sent her a beautiful diamond ring. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26'></a>26</span> +They planned to be married when he received his +next furlough. But when he came to Sanford to +claim his bride, he found that he had made a terrible +mistake.” +</p> +<p> +“What did he do then?” chorused half a dozen +awed voices. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, he made the best of it and married the sister,” +Irma replied with a shrug. “I suppose he felt +that he couldn’t very well do anything else. Perhaps +he didn’t have the courage to. But one day +before his wedding he went to the house and found +Miss Merton alone. She had been crying and he +felt so sorry that he tried to find out what was the +matter. Somehow they came to an understanding, +but it was too late. Three or four years after that +he was drowned during a storm at sea. Miss Merton +never quite got over it all, and it changed her disposition, +I guess.” +</p> +<p> +“What a sad story.” Constance Stevens’ blue +eyes were soft with sympathy. +</p> +<p> +“That makes Miss Merton seem like a different +person, doesn’t it?” Marjorie thoughtfully knitted +her brows. +</p> +<p> +“I suppose that is why she acts as though she +hated young people,” offered Mary. “We probably +remind her of her cheated youth.” +</p> +<p> +“She should have been particular enough to let +that stupid ensign know that she was she,” criticized +practical Jerry. “I’m glad I haven’t a sister. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27'></a>27</span> +There’s no danger of any future aspirant for my +hand and heart getting me mixed with Hal.” +</p> +<p> +The sentimental shadow cast upon the group +by Irma’s romantic tale disappeared in a gale of +laughter. +</p> +<p> +“Honestly, Jerry Macy, you haven’t the least idea +of romance,” giggled Susan. “Here Irma tells us +a real love story and you spoil it all about a minute +afterward.” +</p> +<p> +“Can’t help it,” asserted Jerry stoutly. “I have +to say what I think.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, here come Captain and Charlie,” cried Marjorie, +sighting a gracious figure in white descending +the steps with Charlie in tow. “That means dinner +is about to be served, children. Our farewell feast +to Lieutenant Mary Raymond.” +</p> +<h2>CHAPTER III—THE SHIELD OF VALOR</h2> +<p> +A chorus of ohs and ahs ascended as the guests +filed into a dining room, the decoration of which +spelled Patriotism in large capitals. In honor of +the pretty soldier play to which she and Mary had +so long clung, Marjorie had decreed that the dinner +should be a patriotic affair so far as decorations +went. The walls of the large, attractive room were +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28'></a>28</span> +plentifully festooned with red, white and blue bunting. +Flags were in evidence everywhere. From the +center of the large oak table a large doll dressed as +Uncle Sam held gallantly aloft the tri-colored ribbons +that extended to each place. On one side of +him stood a smaller doll dressed in the khaki uniform +of the United States soldier. On the other, a +valiant Jackie stood guard. At each cover was +a small soldier doll and the place cards were tiny, +folded, silk flags, each guest’s name written in one +of the stripes of white uppermost. +</p> +<p> +Mary occupied the seat of honor at the head of +the table, with Marjorie at her right and Constance +at her left. But at the departing Lieutenant’s place +rose an amazing pile of tissue-paper wrapped, beribboned +bundles that smacked of Christmas. +</p> +<p> +“Company, attention,” called Mrs. Dean from the +foot of the table, the instant the party had seated +themselves. “Lieutenant Raymond, you are ordered +to inspect your wealth before mess.” +</p> +<p> +“I—oh——” stammered the abashed Lieutenant, +regarding said “wealth” in stupefaction. “All those +things are not really for <em>me</em>!” +</p> +<p> +“Open them and see,” directed Marjorie, her face +radiant with unselfish happiness. “Every one of +them holds an original poetic message. None of us +knows what the other wrote. You are to read them +in a loud voice and satisfy our curiosity. Now +hurry up and begin.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29'></a>29</span> +</p> +<p> +Under a battery of smiling faces, Mary slowly +undid a good-sized square bundle. With slightly +shaking fingers she drew forth a white box. When +opened it displayed several sizes of note paper and +envelopes bearing her monogram in silver. Picking +up a card she steadied her voice and read: +</p> +<p> + “You say, of course, ‘I’ll surely write,’<br /> + But when you’ve traveled out of sight,<br /> + This nice white box may then remind you<br /> + Of Jerry Macy, far behind you.”<br /> +</p> +<p> +“I truly will write you, Jerry. Thank you.” +Mary beamed affectionately on the stout girl. “It’s +a lovely present, and my own monogram, too.” +</p> +<p> +“See that you do,” nodded Jerry gruffly. She +loved to give, but she did not relish being thanked. +</p> +<p> +“Next,” smilingly ordered Marjorie. “If you +don’t hurry and open them, we shall all starve.” +</p> +<p> +The next package disclosed a dainty little leather +combination purse and vanity case from Muriel +Harding with the succinct advice: +</p> +<p> + “Don’t lose your ticket or your money,<br /> + To be stone broke is far from funny.<br /> + When wicked cinders seek your eye,<br /> + Consult your mirror on the sly.”<br /> +</p> +<p> +After Muriel had been thanked and her practical, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30'></a>30</span> +poetic advice lauded, Mary went on with her delightful +investigation. An oblong bundle turned out to +be a box of nut chocolates from Susan, who offered: +</p> +<p> + “In time of homesick tribulation,<br /> + Turn to this toothsome consolation.<br /> + To eat it up will be amusin’——<br /> + Here’s sweet farewell from giggling Susan.”<br /> +</p> +<p> +“Giggling Susan’s” effort brought forth a ripple +of giggles from all sides. +</p> +<p> +“That’s my present,” squealed Charlie, as Mary +fingered a tiny package ornamented with a huge +red bow. “It’s a——” +</p> +<p> +“Shh!” warned Constance, placing prompt fingers +on the too-willing lips. +</p> +<p> +Mary cast the child a tender glance as she +glimpsed a tiny leather violin case, partially obscured +by a card. In this instance it was Uncle John +Roland who had played poet, after receiving Charlie’s +somewhat garbled instructions regarding the +sentiment. +</p> +<p> +“Say it s’loud as you can,” commanded the excited +youngster. +</p> +<p> +Mary complied, reading in a purposely loud tone +that must have been intensely gratifying to the +diminutive giver: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31'></a>31</span> +</p> +<p> + “Once when away from home I ranned<br /> + To play my fiddle in the band,<br /> + You comed and finded me, ’n then<br /> + I never ranned away again.<br /> + So now I’m always nice and good<br /> + An’ do as Connie says I should,<br /> + And ’cause you’re going to run away<br /> + You’d better write to me some day!<br /> + Inside the little fiddle box<br /> + There is a fountain pen that talks<br /> + On paper—it’s for you from me,<br /> + The great musishun; your friend, C.”<br /> +</p> +<p> +As Mary read the last line she slipped from her +place to Charlie and kissed the gleeful, upturned +face. “You darling boy,” she quavered. “Mary +won’t forget to write.” +</p> +<p> +“Mine’s the best of all,” observed Charlie with +modest frankness, as he enthusiastically returned the +kiss. +</p> +<p> +Back in her place again, Mary finished the affectionate +inspection of the tokens her friends had +taken so much pleasure in giving. There was a book +from Harriet, a folded metal drinking cup in a +leather case from Esther Lind, a hand-embroidered +pin and needle case from Irma, a pair of soft, dark-blue +leather slippers from Constance, and a wonderful +Japanese silk kimono from Mrs. Dean. The remembrances +had all been selected as first aids to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32'></a>32</span> +Mary during her long journey across the country. +With each one went a humorous verse, composed +with more or less effort on the part of the givers. +</p> +<p> +But one package now remained to be opened. Its +diminutive size and shape hinted that it might have +come from the jeweler’s. Mary knew it to be Marjorie’s +farewell token to her. She would have liked +to examine it in private. She was almost sure that +she was going to cry. She thrust back the inclination, +however, flashing a tender, wavering smile at +her chum as she untied the silver cord that bound +the box. It bore the name of a Sanford jeweler and +when the lid was off revealed a round, gold monogrammed +locket, gleaming dully against its pale blue +silk bed. In a tiny circular groove of the box was +a fine-grained gold chain. +</p> +<p> +Mary’s changeful face registered many emotions +as she took the locket in her hands and stared at it +in silence. Acting on a swift, overwhelming impulse +she sprang mutely from her chair and rushed +out of the room. Marjorie half rose from her place, +then sat down again. “Lieutenant will come back +soon,” she said fondly. “She hasn’t really deserted +from the army, she’s only taken a tiny leave of absence. +I remember just how I felt when some of +the boys and girls of Franklin High gave me a surprise +party. That was the night this came to me.” +She patted the butterfly pin that had figured so +prominently in her freshman year at Sanford. “I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33'></a>33</span> +almost cried like a baby. I remember that the whole +table blurred while Mary was making a speech to +me about my beautiful pin.” Marjorie talked on +with the kindly object of centering the guests’ attention +on herself until Mary should return. +</p> +<p> +Meanwhile, in the living room Mary Raymond +was engaged in the double task of trying to suppress +her tears and open the locket at the same time. +Her eyes brimming, she worked at the refractory +gold catch with insistent fingers. Opened at last, +she beheld Marjorie’s lovely face smiling out at her. +On the inside of the upper half of the locket was engraved, +“Mary from Marjorie.” Below was the +beautiful Spanish phrase, “<em>Para siempre</em>,” literally +translated, “for always,” but meaning “forever.” +</p> +<p> +Within a brief space of time, following her flight, +the runaway reappeared, her eyelids slightly pink. +“I hope you will all pardon me,” she apologized prettily. +“I—I—couldn’t help it. You’ve been so sweet +to me. I can’t ever thank you as you deserve to be +thanked for giving me so many lovely things; the +very ones I shall need most when I’m traveling. I +am sure you must know how dear you all are to me; +dearer even than my Franklin High friends. I hope +each one of you will write to me. I’ll truly try hard +not only to be a good correspondent, but always to +be worthy of your friendship.” +</p> +<p> +Mary’s earnest words met ready responses of good +fellowship from those whom she had once scorned. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34'></a>34</span> +Everything was so different now. The new Mary +Raymond was an entire opposite to the sullen-faced +young person who had once flouted all overtures of +friendship on the part of Marjorie’s particular +cronies. Beyond an eloquent hand clasp and, “My +picture locket is wonderful, Lieutenant. Thank you +over and over,” Mary had reserved further expression +of her appreciation until the two chums should +be entirely by themselves. +</p> +<p> +The delightful dinner ended with a general distribution +of fancy cracker bon-bons, which the guests +snapped open with a will, to find cunning caps representing +the flags of various nations. They donned +these with alacrity and trooped into the living room +for an evening of stunts in which music played an +important part. Constance lifted up her exquisite +voice untiringly, weaving her magic spell about her +eager listeners. Jerry sang a comic song, mostly off +the key, merely to prove the impossibility of her +vocal powers. Charlie Stevens, who had trustfully +tugged his faithful fiddle along, insisted on rendering +a solo of anguishing shrieks and squawks, assuming +the majestic mien of a virtuoso. He took himself +so seriously that no one dared laugh, although +the desire to do so was throttled with difficulty. +Susan was prevailed upon to perform a scarf dance, +her one accomplishment, using a strip of red, white +and blue bunting with graceful effect. Harriet Delaney +also sang a ballad, and Esther Lind offered a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35'></a>35</span> +beautiful Swedish folk song she had learned from +her father, who had sung it as a boy in far-off Scandinavia. +When the small repertoire of soloists had +been exhausted, everyone turned to with Constance +at the piano, and made the living room ring with +school songs. +</p> +<p> +Just before the farewell party broke up the door +bell rang. Its loud, insistent peal brought a significant +exchange of glances, in which Mary alone +did not share. Mrs. Dean hurried into the hall. A +moment and she returned to the living room, escorting +Delia, whose broad, homely face was wreathed in +smiles. She advanced toward Mary, holding out a +goodly sheaf of letters. “Special delivery, Miss +Mary,” she announced. “May yez have many of +the same.” She made a little bobbing bow as Mary +took them, bestowed a friendly grin on the company +and waddled out. +</p> +<p> +“I don’t understand.” Mary seemed overcome +by this fresh surprise. “Are they all for me?” +</p> +<p> +“They’re your railway comforts, Lieutenant,” +laughed Marjorie. “There’s a letter from each of +us. You can read one a day. There are enough to +reach to Denver and a few thrown in to cure the +blues after you get there. So you see we won’t let +you forget us.” +</p> +<p> +“It’s the nicest reminder I could possibly have. I +don’t need a single thing to make me remember you, +though. You’re all here in my heart to stay as long +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36'></a>36</span> +as I live.” Mary had never appeared more sweetly +appealing than she now looked, as her clear tones +voiced her inner sentiments. +</p> +<p> +“You’re a nice girl,” approved Charlie Stevens. +“If I ever grow to be’s tall’s you, Mary Raymond, +I’ll be married to you and you can play in the band, +too. Uncle John’ll buy you a fiddle.” +</p> +<p> +This calm disposal of Mary’s future drove sentiment +to the winds. Unconsciously, little Charlie had +sounded a merry note just in time to lift the pall +which is always bound to hang over a company devoted +to the saying of farewells. +</p> +<p> +At eleven o’clock Mary and Marjorie accompanied +their guests to the gate, the latter avowing their intention +to be at the station the following morning to +see Mary off on her journey. The two girls strolled +back to the house, under the stars, their arms entwined +about each other’s waists. +</p> +<p> +“We had a beautiful evening, Lieutenant. How +I wish General could have been here. I hate to go +away without saying good-bye to him,” sighed Mary. +</p> +<p> +“I’m sorry, too. I wish he could always be at +home. He has to be away from Sanford and home +so much.” Marjorie echoed Mary’s sigh. Brightening, +she said: “I’ve another dear surprise for you, +though. Come up to my house and I’ll give it to +you. It’s his farewell message. He wanted you to +have it the very last thing to-night.” +</p> +<p> +“We are going upstairs, Captain,” called Mary, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37'></a>37</span> +as they passed through the living room. “Want to +come?” +</p> +<p> +“Later,” returned Mrs. Dean. She was too good +a commander to intrude upon the last precious moments +of confidence her little army still had left to +them. +</p> +<p> +Marjorie marched Mary to the pink and white +window seat and playfully ordered, “Sit down and +fold your hands like a nice, obedient lieutenant. +Shut your eyes and don’t open them until I say so.” +</p> +<p> +Tripping gleefully to the chiffonier she opened the +top drawer, bringing forth a small package and a +square white envelope. Tucking them into Mary’s +folded hands she said, “First you may open your +eyes; then you must open your presents. I haven’t +the least idea what’s in the package or what the letter +says. General mailed them to me from Boston.” +</p> +<p> +Two pairs of eyes, bright with affectionate curiosity, +bent themselves eagerly on the little quaintly +enameled box, which Mary hastily unwrapped. +“Oh!” was the concerted exclamation. On a white +satin pad lay an exquisitely dainty gold pin. It was +in the form of a shield. Across the top winked three +small jewels set in a row, a ruby, a diamond and a +sapphire. +</p> +<p> +“‘Three cheers for the red, white and blue,’” +sang Marjorie, dropping down beside Mary and +hugging her enthusiastically. “Do read the letter, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38'></a>38</span> +Lieutenant. We’ll rave about this cunning pin afterward. +Oh, I forgot. Perhaps General didn’t mean +me to know what he wrote.” +</p> +<p> +“Of course he did,” flung back Mary loyally. +“We’ll read it together.” Tearing open the envelope, +she unfolded the letter and read aloud: +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +“Beloved Lieutenant: +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +“You are going away to a far country on a +long hike, and, as it is the duty of every good +general to look to the welfare of his soldiers, I +am sending you the magic Shield of Valor to +protect you in time of need. It is a token of +honor for a brave lieutenant who fought a memorable +battle and won the victory against heavy +odds. It is a magic shield, in that it offers protection +only to the soldier who has met and +worsted the giant, Self. It was wrought from +the priceless metal of Golden Deeds and set +with the eyes of Endurance, Truth and Constancy. +No enemy, however deadly, can prevail +against it. It is a talisman, the wearing of +which must bring Honor and Peace. +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +“Dear little comrade, may happiness visit you +in your new barracks. Let the bugle call ‘On +duty’ find you marching head up, colors flying, +until ‘Taps’ sounds at the close of each busy +day. Though you have answered the call to a +new post, your general hopes with all his heart +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39'></a>39</span> +that you will some day hurry back to your regiment +in Sanford to receive the sword of captaincy +and the enthusiastic welcome of your +brother officers. May all good go with you. +</p> +<p style='text-align:right; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-right:2em;;'>“Loyally, </p> +<p style='text-align:right; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-right:2em;;'>"<span class='sc'>General Dean</span>.”</p> +<p> +Mary’s voice trailed away into a silence that outrivaled +mere speech. The two girls sat staring at +the jeweled token before them as though fearing to +break the spell their general’s message had evoked. +</p> +<p> +“Isn’t it queer?” came from Mary, “I don’t feel a +bit like crying. When all the nice things happened +to me downstairs I wanted to cry. But this letter +and my wonderful Shield of Valor make me feel +different; as though I’d like to march out and conquer +the world!” +</p> +<p> +Marjorie’s red lips curved into a tender smile as +she took the pin from the box and fastened it in the +folds of lace where Mary’s gown fell away at the +throat. “That’s because it is a true talisman,” she +reminded softly. “We never knew when long ago +we played being soldiers just for fun that we were +only getting ready to be soldiers in earnest.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40'></a>40</span>CHAPTER IV—THE NEW SECRETARY</h2> +<p> +“I’m ready to go to school, Captain!” Marjorie +Dean popped her curly head into the living room. +“Is the note ready, too? It’s simply dear in you +to give me a chance to call on Miss Archer.” +</p> +<p> +“Just a moment.” Mrs. Dean hastily addressed +an envelope and slipped into it the note she had just +finished writing. “I could mail it, I suppose, but I +thought you might like to play special messenger,” +she observed, handing Marjorie the note. +</p> +<p> +“It was a glorious thought,” laughed Marjorie. +“I wanted to see Miss Archer yesterday, but I didn’t +like to go to her office on the very first day without +a good excuse. Do I look nice, Captain?” she inquired +archly. +</p> +<p> +“You know you do, vain child.” Mrs. Dean surveyed +the dainty figure of her daughter with pardonable +pride. “That quaint flowered organdie frock +exactly suits you. Now salute your captain and +hurry along. I don’t care to have you tardy on my +account.” +</p> +<p> +Marjorie embraced her mother in her usual tempestuous +fashion and went skipping out of the house +and down the stone walk with the joyous abandon of +a little girl. Once the gate had swung behind her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41'></a>41</span> +she dropped into a more decorous gait as she hurried +along the wide, shady street toward school. +“Oh, goodness!” she murmured. When within two +blocks of the high school building she glimpsed the +City Hall clock. Its huge, black hands pointed to +five minutes to nine. “I’ll have to run for it,” was +her dismayed reflection. “If I hurry, I can make +it. I won’t have time to put my hat in my new +junior locker, though.” +</p> +<p> +Decorum now discarded, Marjorie set off on a +brisk run that brought her into the locker room at +precisely one minute to nine. Hastily depositing her +dainty rose-trimmed leghorn on a convenient window +ledge, she ran up the basement stairs to the +study hall, gaining the seat assigned to her the previous +day just as the nine o’clock bell clanged forth +its warning. She smiled rather contemptuously as +she noted the disapproving glance Miss Merton flung +in her direction. She had escaped a scolding by virtue +of a few brief seconds. +</p> +<p> +“<em>She</em> hasn’t changed a bit,” was Marjorie’s inward +judgment, as she turned her gaze upon the +rows of students; called together again to continue +their earnest march along the road of education. +Her heart thrilled with pride as she noted how few +vacant seats the great study hall held. The freshman +class was unusually large. She noticed there +were a number of girls she had never before seen. +It looked, too, as though none of last year’s freshmen +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42'></a>42</span> +had dropped out of school. As for the juniors, +they were all present, even to Mignon La Salle. +But how decidedly grown-up the French girl looked! +Her black curls were arranged in an ultra-fashionable +knot at the back of her head that made her +appear several years older than she really was. Her +gown, too, an elaborate affair of sage green pongee, +with wide bands of heavy insertion, added to her +years. She looked very little like a school girl Marjorie +thought. +</p> +<p> +Lost in contemplation of the new Mignon, she +was rudely reminded of the fact that she was staring +by Mignon herself. Their eyes meeting, Mignon +made a face at Marjorie by way of expressing +her candid opinion of the girl she disliked. Marjorie +colored and hastily looked away, amused rather +than angry at this display of childishness. It hardly +accorded with her grown-up air. She had not realized +that she had been guilty of staring. Her mind +was intent on trying to recall something she had +heard in connection with the French girl that now +eluded her memory. Shrugging her shoulders she +dismissed it as a matter of small consequence. +</p> +<p> +As the members of the four classes were still +vacillating between which subjects to take up and +which to exclude from their programs of study, +classes that morning were to mean a mere business +of assembling in the various recitation rooms, there +to receive the first instructions from the special +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43'></a>43</span> +teachers before settling down to the usual routine of +lessons. +</p> +<p> +For her junior program, Marjorie had decided +upon third year French, English Literature, Cæsar’s +Commentaries and civil government. As she had +recently begun piano lessons, she had wisely concluded +that, with piano practice, four subjects would +keep her sufficiently busy. Her interest in music +had developed as a result of her association with +Constance Stevens. She yearned to be able some +day to accompany Constance’s beautiful voice on the +piano. Mrs. Dean had long deplored the fact that +Marjorie was not interested in becoming at least a +fair pianist. Herself a musician of considerable +skill, she believed it a necessary accomplishment for +girls and was delighted when Marjorie had announced +that she wished to begin lessons on the +piano. +</p> +<p> +By reciting English literature during the first period +of the morning and French the second, the last +period before noon was hers for study. Civil government +and Cæsar recitations the first two periods +of the afternoon left her the last hour of that session +free. She had always tried to arrange her subjects +to gain that coveted afternoon period, and now +she felt especially pleased at being able to also reserve +the last period of the morning for study. +</p> +<p> +It was while she sat in her old place in French +class, listening to the obsequiously polite adjurations +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44'></a>44</span> +of Professor Fontaine, that she remembered the +still undelivered note from her mother to Miss +Archer. “I’m a faithless messenger,” was her rueful +thought. “I’ll hurry to Miss Archer’s office with +Captain’s note the minute class is over.” Contritely +patting a fold of her lace-trimmed blouse where she +had tucked the letter for safe-keeping, Marjorie +gave strict attention to the earnestly-exhorting instructor. +</p> +<p> +“Eet ees een thees class that we shall read the +great works of the incomparable French awthors,” +he announced with an impressive roll of r’s. “Eet +ees of a truth necessary that you should become familiar +weeth them. You moost, therefore, stoody +your lessons and be thus always preepaired. Eet ees +sad when my pupeels come to me with so many +fleemsy excuses. Thees year I shall nevaire accept +them. I most eenseest that you preepaire each day +the lesson for the next.” +</p> +<p> +Marjorie smiled to herself. The long-suffering +professor was forever preaching a preparedness, +which it never fell to his lot to see diligently practised +by the majority of his pupils. Personally, she +could not be classed among the guilty. Her love of +the musical language kept her interest in it unflagging, +thereby making her one of the professor’s most +dependable props. +</p> +<p> +The recitation over, she paused to greet the odd +little man, who received her with delight, warmly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45'></a>45</span> +shaking her hand. “Eet ees a grand plaisir thus to +see you again, Mees Marjorie,” he declared. “Ah, +I am assured that you at least weel nevaire say ‘oonpreepaired.’” +</p> +<p> +“I’ll try not to. I’m ever so glad to see you, too, +Professor Fontaine.” After a brief exchange of +pleasantries she left the class room a trifle hurriedly +and set off to call on Miss Archer. +</p> +<p> +Entering the spacious living room office, she was +forcibly reminded that Marcia Arnold’s high school +days had ended on the previous June. The pretty +room was quite deserted. Marjorie sighed as she +glanced toward the vacant chair, drawn under the +closed desk that had been Marcia’s. How much she +would miss her old friend. Since that day long past +on which they had come to an understanding, she +and Marcia had found much in common. Marjorie +sighed regretfully, wondering who Miss Archer’s +next secretary would be. +</p> +<p> +As there was no one about to announce her, she +walked slowly toward the half-closed door of the +inner office. Pausing just outside, she peeped in. +Her eyes widened with surprise as she caught sight +of an unfamiliar figure. A tall, very attractive +young woman stood before the principal’s desk, +busily engaged in the perusal of a printed sheet of +paper which she held in her hand. It looked as +though Miss Archer had already secured someone +in Marcia’s place. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46'></a>46</span> +</p> +<p> +“May I come in, please?” Marjorie asked sweetly, +halting in the doorway. +</p> +<p> +The girl at the desk uttered a faint exclamation. +The paper she held fluttered to the desk. A wave of +color dyed her exquisitely tinted skin as she turned a +pair of large, startled, black eyes upon the intruder. +For a second the two girls eyed each other steadily. +Marjorie conceived a curious impression that she +had seen this stranger before, yet it was too vague +to convey to her the slightest knowledge of the other’s +identity. +</p> +<p> +“You are Miss Archer’s new secretary, are you +not?” she asked frankly. “You can tell me, perhaps, +where to find her. I have a note to deliver to her +personally.” +</p> +<p> +A quick shade of relief crossed the other girl’s +suddenly flushing face. Smiling in self-possessed +fashion, she said, “Miss Archer will not be back directly. +I cannot tell you when she will return.” +</p> +<p> +“I think I’ll wait here for her,” decided Marjorie. +“I have no recitation this period.” +</p> +<p> +The stranger’s arched brows arched themselves +a trifle higher. “As you please,” she returned indifferently. +She again turned her attention to the +papers on the desk. +</p> +<p> +Seating herself on the wide oak bench, Marjorie +took speculative stock of the new secretary. “What +a stunning girl,” was her mental opinion. “She’s +dressed rather too well for a secretary, though,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47'></a>47</span> +flashed across her as she noted the smart gown of +white china silk, the very cut of which pointed to +the work of a high-priced modiste. “I suppose she’s +getting examination papers ready for the new pupils. +I wonder why she doesn’t sit down.” +</p> +<p> +As she thus continued to cogitate regarding the +stranger, the girl frowned deeply at another paper +she had picked up and swung suddenly about. “Are +you just entering high school?” she asked with direct +abruptness. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, no.” Marjorie smilingly shook her head. +“I am a junior.” +</p> +<p> +“Are you?” The stranger again lost herself in +puzzled contemplation of the paper. Hearing an +approaching footfall she made a quick move toward +the center of the office, raising her eyes sharply to +greet a girl who had come in quest of Miss Archer. +Promptly disposing of the seeker, she returned to her +task. Several times after that she was interrupted +by the entrance of various students, whom she received +coolly and dismissed with, “Not here. I +don’t know when Miss Archer will return.” Marjorie +noted idly that with every fresh arrival, the +young woman continued to move well away from +the desk. +</p> +<p> +Marjorie watched her in fascination. She was +undoubtedly beautiful in a strangely bold fashion, +but apparently very cold and self-centered. She had +received the students who had entered the office with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48'></a>48</span> +a brusqueness that bordered on discourtesy. Two +or three of them, whom Marjorie knew, had greeted +her in friendly fashion, at the same time mutely +questioning with uplifted brows as to whom this +stranger might be. +</p> +<p> +“This problem in quadratic equations is a terror,” +the girl at the desk suddenly remarked, her finger +pointing to a row of algebraic symbols on the paper +she was still clutching. “Algebra’s awfully hard, +isn’t it?” +</p> +<p> +“I always liked it,” returned Marjorie, glad of +a chance to break the silence. “What is the problem?” +</p> +<p> +“Come here,” ordered the other girl. “I don’t call +<em>that</em> an easy problem. Do you?” +</p> +<p> +Marjorie rose and approached the desk. The +stranger handed her the paper, indexing the vexatious +problem. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, that’s not so very hard,” was Marjorie’s +light response. +</p> +<p> +“Can you work it out?” came the short inquiry, +a note of suppressed eagerness in the questioner’s +voice. +</p> +<p> +“Why, I suppose so. Can’t you?” +</p> +<p> +“I was trying it before you came in just for fun. +I’ve forgotten my algebra, I guess. I don’t believe +I got the right result. It’s rather good practice to +review, isn’t it?” +</p> +<p> +“She must be a senior,” sprang to Marjorie’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49'></a>49</span> +mind. Aloud, she agreed that it was. “I ought not +to have forgotten my algebra,” she added. “It’s +only a year since I finished it.” +</p> +<p> +“See if you think I did this right, will you? I’m +curious to know.” The stranger thrust into her +hand a second paper, covered with figures. +</p> +<p> +Marjorie inspected it, feeling only mildly interested. +“No; you made a mistake here. It goes this +way. Have you a pencil?” +</p> +<p> +The pencil promptly forthcoming, the obliging +junior seated herself at a nearby table and diligently +went to work. So busy was she that she failed to +note the covert glances which her companion sent +now and then toward the door. But, during the +brief space of time in which Marjorie was engaged +with the difficult equation, no one came. Altogether +she had not been in the office longer than fifteen +minutes. To her it seemed at least half an hour. +</p> +<p> +“Here you are.” She tendered the finished work +to the other girl, who seized it eagerly with a brief, +“Thank you. I can see where I made my mistake +when I have time to compare the two.” With a +smile, which Marjorie thought a trifle patronizing, +she carelessly nodded her gratitude. Laying the +printed examination sheet on a pile of similar papers, +she placed a weight upon them and walked +gracefully from the office, taking with her the two +sheets of paper, bearing the results of her own and +Marjorie’s labor. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50'></a>50</span> +</p> +<p> +Another fifteen minutes went by. Still no one +came, except a student or two in quest of Miss Archer. +Marjorie decided that she would wait no +longer. She would come back again that afternoon, +before the second session opened. It was almost +noon. Were she to return to the study hall just +then, it meant to court the caustic rebuke of Miss +Merton. The locker room offered her a temporary +refuge. Accordingly, she wended her steps toward +it. +</p> +<p> +“Where were you that last period?” demanded +Jerry Macy, coming up behind her as she stood at +the mirror adjusting her rose-weighted hat. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Jerry! How you startled me.” Marjorie +swung about. “I was up in Miss Archer’s office.” +</p> +<p> +“So soon?” teased Jerry, putting on a shocked expression. +“I <em>am</em> surprised.” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t be so suspicious,” responded Marjorie, +adopting Jerry’s bantering tone. “I had a note, if +you please, from Captain, to deliver to Miss Archer. +I saw the new secretary, too.” +</p> +<p> +“Humph!” ejaculated Jerry. “You must have +only thought you saw her. So far as I know Miss +Archer hasn’t secured a secretary yet.” +</p> +<p> +“But she must have,” Marjorie insisted. “There +was a tall girl in her office when I went there. She +must surely be the girl to take Marcia’s place, for +she was standing at Miss Archer’s desk, going over +some papers.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51'></a>51</span> +</p> +<p> +“That’s funny. What did she look like? You +said she was tall?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes; tall and very pretty. She had big, black +eyes and perfectly gorgeous auburn hair——” Marjorie +broke off with a puzzled frown. Her own +words had a curious reminiscent ring. Someone +else had said the very same thing about——Who +had said it, and about whom had it been said? +</p> +<p> +“Now I know you didn’t see Miss Archer’s new +secretary,” cried Jerry in triumph. “There’s only +one person that can answer to your description. +She’s that Rowena Farnham I told you about, Mignon’s +side partner. I told you she was going to +enter the sophomore class. She was probably waiting +for Miss Archer herself. She has to try her +exams, I suppose.” +</p> +<p> +“But what was she doing at Miss Archer’s desk?” +asked Marjorie sharply. “Why did she answer me +and make me think she was the secretary? She told +several other girls that Miss Archer was out!” +</p> +<p> +“Search me,” replied Jerry inelegantly. “If she’s +much like Mignon it’s hard to tell what she was up +to. Believe me, they’re a precious pair of trouble-makers +and don’t you forget it.” +</p> +<p> +“I ought to have recognized her,” faltered Marjorie. +A curious sense of dread had stolen over +her. “Don’t you remember Mary described her almost +as I did just now, that day you came to see +us, when first you got back to Sanford?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52'></a>52</span> +</p> +<p> +“Well, nobody’s going to kill you because you +didn’t, are they?” inquired Jerry with a grin. +“What’s the matter? What makes you look so solemn?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I was just wondering,” evaded Marjorie. +Outwardly only slightly ruffled, tumult raged within. +She had begun to see clearly what had hitherto been +obscure and the revelation was a severe shock. All +she could hope was that what she now strongly suspected +might not, after all, be true. +</p> +<h2>CHAPTER V—A STORMY INTERVIEW</h2> +<p> +Marjorie returned to school that afternoon in a +most perturbed state of mind, occasioned by Jerry +Macy’s identification of Rowena Farnham as the +girl whom she had assisted in the working out of +the problem in quadratic equations. She was now +almost certain that she had unwittingly assisted in a +most dishonest enterprise. If the papers on Miss +Archer’s desk comprised the trial examination to +sophomore estate, then Rowena had no doubt been +guilty of tampering with what should concern her +only at the moment when the test began. If they +were the sophomore examination papers, why had +Miss Archer left them thus exposed on her desk? +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53'></a>53</span> +And now what was she, Marjorie, to do about it? +She felt that when she delivered her mother’s note +to Miss Archer, she ought to inform the principal +of what had occurred during her absence. Yet she +hated to do this. It was tale bearing. Besides, her +suspicions might prove unfounded. +</p> +<p> +She was still juggling the trying situation when +she entered Miss Archer’s office to deliver her captain’s +note. Should she speak of it or not? The +fact that Miss Archer was now accessible but extremely +busy, with several girls occupying the office +benches, caused her to put off her decision for +a time. She stopped only long enough to receive +a kindly welcome from the principal and to perform +her mission as messenger. Then she went dejectedly +to her recitation in civil government, wondering resentfully +if the event of the morning was the beginning +of an unpleasant year. +</p> +<p> +By a determined effort of will, Marjorie put the +whole thing aside to attend strictly to her recitations. +But during the study hour that preceded dismissal +for the day, a way of settling the difficulty +presented itself to her. It was not an agreeable +way, but her straightforward soul welcomed it as a +means toward settlement. She was resolved to seek +Rowena Farnham and learn the truth. The question +of where to find her was next to be considered. She +had not yet made an appearance into the study hall. +Doubtless she was in the little recitation room on the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54'></a>54</span> +second floor that was seldom used except in the case +of pupils with special examinations to try. Marjorie +mused darkly as to whether the problem she had +obligingly solved would figure in Rowena’s algebra +paper. +</p> +<p> +Half-past three saw Marjorie on her way to the +locker room, keeping a sharp lookout for a tall figure +crowned with luxuriant auburn hair. Her vigilance +met with no reward, however, and she left the school +building in company with Irma, Jerry, Constance +and Susan, deliberating as to what she had best do +next. Outside the high school she caught no glimpse +of her quarry among the throng of girls that came +trooping down the wide stone steps. Although she +took part in her friends’ animated conversation, she +was steadily thinking of the self-imposed task that +lay before her. +</p> +<p> +“Let’s go down to Sargent’s,” proposed Susan, +gleefully jingling a handful of silver that clinked +of sundaes and divers delicious cheer. +</p> +<p> +“You girls go. I can’t. I’ve an errand to do.” +Marjorie’s color rose as she spoke. +</p> +<p> +“Do your errand some other time,” coaxed Susan. +“I may not have any money to spend to-morrow.” +</p> +<p> +“I’ll treat to-morrow,” Marjorie assured her. “I +can’t possibly put off my errand. You can imagine +I’m with you. Always cultivate your imagination.” +</p> +<p> +Four voices rose to protest her decision, but she +remained firm. “To-morrow,” she compromised. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55'></a>55</span> +“Please don’t tease me. I can’t really go with you +to-day.” +</p> +<p> +“We’ll try to get along without you, just this +once,” agreed tactful Constance. Something in +Marjorie’s manner told her that her friend wished +to go on her way alone. +</p> +<p> +“Go ahead then, Marjorie. Do your errand, faithful +child,” consented Jerry, who had also scented +the unusual and shrewdly speculated as to whether +it had anything to do with their conversation of the +morning. +</p> +<p> +Anxious, yet regretful, to be free of her chums, +Marjorie said good-bye and hurried off in an opposite +direction. Jerry had said that the Farnhams +lived in the beautiful residence that adjoined Mignon +La Salle’s home. It was not a long walk, yet +how Marjorie dreaded it. Given that Rowena were +at home, Mignon would, perhaps, be with her. That +would make matters doubly hard. Yet she could do +no less than carry out the interview she felt must +take place at the earliest possible moment. +</p> +<p> +It was a very grave little girl who opened the ornamental +iron gate and proceeded reluctantly up the +long driveway to the huge brown stone house, set in +the midst of a wide expanse of tree-dotted lawn. +For all the residence was a magnificent affair, Marjorie +shivered as she mounted the massive stone +steps. There was little of the atmosphere of home +about it. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56'></a>56</span> +</p> +<p> +“Is Miss Rowena Farnham here?” was her low-voiced +question of the white-capped maid who answered +the door. +</p> +<p> +“She hasn’t come home from school yet, miss,” informed +the maid. “Will you step into the house +and wait for her?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, thank you.” Marjorie followed the woman +into a high-ceilinged, beautifully appointed, square +hall and across it to a mammoth drawing-room, very +handsomely furnished, but cheerless, nevertheless. +She felt very small and insignificant as she settled +herself lightly on an ornate gilt chair, to await the +arrival of Rowena. +</p> +<p> +Her vigil was destined to be tedious, unbroken by +the sight of anyone save the maid, who passed +through the hall once or twice on her way to answer +the bell. Even she did not trouble herself to glance +through the half-parted brocade portieres at the +lonely little figure in the room beyond. Consulting +her wrist watch, Marjorie read five o’clock. She +had been waiting for over an hour. She guessed +that the girl on whom she had come to call must +be with Mignon La Salle. There was at least a +grain of comfort for her in this conjecture. If +Mignon were at home now, there was small chance +that she would be present at the interview. +</p> +<p> +An impatient hand on the bell sent a shrill, reverberating +peal through the great house. An instant +and she heard the maid’s voice, carefully lowered. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57'></a>57</span> +There came the sound of quick, questioning +tones, which she recognized. Rowena had at last +put in an appearance. Immediately there followed +a flinging back of the concealing portieres and the +girl who had sprung into Marjorie’s knowledge so +unbecomingly that morning walked into the room. +</p> +<p> +“You wished to see——Oh, it’s you!” The +tall girl’s black eyes swept her uninvited guest with +an expression far from cordial. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, it is I,” Marjorie’s inflection was faintly +satirical. “I made a mistake about you this morning. +I thought you were Miss Archer’s new secretary.” +She lost no time in going directly to the +point. +</p> +<p> +For answer Rowena threw back her auburn head +and laughed loudly. “I fooled you nicely, didn’t I?” +According to outward signs her conscience was apparently +untroubled. +</p> +<p> +“Yes,” returned Marjorie quietly. “Why did +you do it?” +</p> +<p> +Rowena’s laughing lips instantly took on a belligerent +curve. The very evenness of the inquiry +warned her that trouble was brewing for her. “See +here,” she began rudely, “what did you come to my +house for? I’m not pleased to see you. Judging +from several things I’ve heard, I don’t care to know +you.” +</p> +<p> +Marjorie paled at the rebuff. She had half expected +it, yet now that it had come she did not relish +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58'></a>58</span> +it. At first meeting she had been irritated by the +other girl’s almost rude indifference. Now she had +dropped all semblance of courtesy. +</p> +<p> +“I hardly think it matters about your knowing or +not knowing me,” she retorted in the same carefully +schooled tone. “You, of course, are the one to decide +that. What does matter is this—I must ask +you to tell me exactly why you wished me to work +out that quadratic problem for you. It is quite +necessary that I should know.” +</p> +<p> +“Why is it so necessary?” +</p> +<p> +“Because I must believe one of two things,” was +Marjorie’s grave response. “I must have the truth. +I won’t be kept in the dark about it. Either you +only pretended to play secretary as a rather peculiar +joke, or else you did it purposely because——” She +hesitated, half ashamed to accuse the other of dishonesty. +</p> +<p> +“What will you do if I say I did it on purpose?” +tantalized Rowena. “Go to your Miss Archer, I +suppose, with a great tale about me. I understand +that is one of your little pastimes. Now listen to +me, and remember what I say. You think I was +prying into those examination papers, don’t you?” +</p> +<p> +“I’d rather not think so.” Marjorie raised an +honest, appealing glance to meet the mocking gleam +of Rowena’s black eyes. +</p> +<p> +“Who cares what <em>you</em> think? You are a goody-goody, +and I never saw one yet that I’d walk across +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59'></a>59</span> +the street with. Whatever I want, I always get. +Remember that, too. If your dear Miss Archer +hadn’t been called to another part of the building, I +might never have had a chance to read over those +examinations. She went away in a hurry and left +me sitting in the office. Naturally, as her desk was +open, I took a look to see what there was to see. I +wasn’t afraid of any subject but algebra. I’m n. g. +in that. So I was pretty lucky to get a chance to +read over the examination. I knew right away by +the questions that it was the one I’d have to try. +</p> +<p> +“My father promised me a pearl necklace if I’d +pass all my tests for the sophomore class. Of course +I wanted to win it. That quadratic problem counted +thirty credits. It meant that without it I’d stand no +chance to pass algebra. I couldn’t do it, and I was +in despair when you came into the office. If you +hadn’t been so stupid as to take me for Miss Archer’s +secretary and hadn’t said you were a junior, +I’d have let you alone. That secretary idea wasn’t +bad, though. It sent those other girls about their +business. I thought <em>you</em> could do that problem if +<em>I</em> couldn’t. It’s a good thing you did. I copied it in +examination this afternoon and I know it’s right,” +she ended triumphantly. +</p> +<p> +Sheer amazement of the girl’s bold confession +rendered Marjorie silent. Never in all her life had +she met a girl like Rowena Farnham. Her calm +admittance to what Marjorie had suspected was unbelievable. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60'></a>60</span> +And she appeared to feel no shame for +her dishonesty. She gloried in it. Finding her voice +at last, the astounded and dismayed interviewer said +with brave firmness: “I can’t look at this so lightly, +Miss Farnham. It wasn’t fair in you to deceive me +into doing a thing like that.” +</p> +<p> +“What’s done can’t be undone,” quoted Rowena, +seemingly undisturbed by the reproof. “You are as +deep in the mud as I am in the mire. You helped +me, you know.” +</p> +<p> +“I will not be included in such dishonesty.” Marjorie +sprang angrily to her feet and faced Rowena. +“If Miss Archer knew this she would not accept your +algebra paper. She might not wish to accept you as +a pupil, either. I hoped when I came here this afternoon +that everything would turn out all right, after +all. I hoped that paper might not be the algebra +test you were to have. I don’t wish to tell Miss +Archer, yet it’s not fair to either of us that you +should masquerade under false colors. You have +put me in a very hard position.” +</p> +<p> +It was now Rowena who grew angry. During +the interview she had remained standing, looking +down on the girl in the chair with amused contempt. +Marjorie’s flash of resentment unleashed a temper +that had ever been the despair of Rowena’s father +and mother. Her dark eyes glowed like live coals, +her tall, slender body shook with fury. “If you dare +go to Miss Archer with what I’ve told you, I’ll put +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61'></a>61</span> +you in a much harder position. I’ll make you lose +every friend you have in school. I know all about +you. You’ve bullied and snubbed poor Mignon La +Salle and made her lose <em>her</em> friends. But you can’t +bully or threaten or snub me. I didn’t want to come +to Sanford to live. It’s nothing but a little, silly +country town. I didn’t want to go to your old +school. My father and mother make me go. My +father doesn’t believe in select boarding schools, so +I have to make the best of it. If I pass my examinations +into the sophomore class I’ll make it my business +to see that I get whatever I take a notion to +have. You can’t stop me. I’ve always done as I +pleased at home and I’ll do as I please in school. If +you tell Miss Archer about this morning, I’ll see +that you get more blame than I. Don’t forget that, +either.” +</p> +<p> +Marjorie felt as though she had been caught in +a pelting rain of hail-stones. Yet the furious flow +of vituperation which beat down upon her did not +in the least intimidate her. “I am not afraid of anything +you may do or say,” she returned, a staunch +little figure of dignified scorn. “I came to see you +in all good faith, willing to give you the benefit of +the doubt. Now that I understand exactly how you +feel about this affair, I won’t trouble you further. +Good afternoon.” +</p> +<p> +“Stop! What are you going to do?” called Rowena. +Marjorie had already passed into the hall. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62'></a>62</span> +“You’ve got to tell me before you leave this house.” +She darted after her steadily retreating caller, cheeks +flaming. +</p> +<p> +At the outer door, Marjorie paused briefly, her +hand on the dead latch. “I said ‘good afternoon,’” +was her sole response. Then she let herself out and +walked proudly away from the house of inhospitality, +oblivious to the torrent of hot words which +the irate Rowena shrieked after her from the veranda. +</p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI—A QUESTION OF SCHOOL-GIRL HONOR</h2> +<p> +“I’ve something to report, Captain.” Marjorie +entered her mother’s room and dropped dispiritedly +at her feet. Unpinning her flower-decked hat, she +removed it with a jerk and let it slide to the floor. +</p> +<p> +“Well, dear, what is it?” Mrs. Dean cast a half +anxious look at her daughter. The long strip of +pink crochet work, destined to become part of an +afghan for Marjorie’s “house” dropped from her +hands. Reaching down she gave the dejected curly +head at her knee a reassuring pat. “What has happened +to spoil my little girl’s second day at school?” +</p> +<p> +Marjorie flashed an upward glance at her mother +that spoke volumes. “I’ve had a horrid time to-day,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63'></a>63</span> +she answered. “Last year, when things didn’t go +right, I kept some of them to myself. This year I’m +going to tell you everything.” Her voice quivering +with indignation at the calamity that had overtaken +her unawares, she related the disturbing events that +had so recently transpired. “I don’t know what to +do,” she ended. “Do you think I ought to go to +Miss Archer and tell her everything?” +</p> +<p> +“That is a leading question, Lieutenant.” Mrs. +Dean continued a sympathetic smoothing of Marjorie’s +curls. “It is one thing to confess one’s own +faults; it is quite another to make public the faults +of someone else. It is hardly fair to Miss Archer +to allow this girl to profit by her own dishonesty. It +is not fair to the girl herself. If she is allowed to +pursue, unchecked, a course which will eventually +lead to a great dishonesty, then you would be in a +measure responsible. On the other hand, I abhor +a talebearer. I can’t decide at once what you ought +to do. I shall have to think it over and give you my +answer later. Your rights must be considered also. +You were an innocent party to a despicable act, +therefore I do not believe that you owe the author +of it any special loyalty. I am not sure but that +I ought to go to Miss Archer myself about it. You +have suffered a good deal, since you began going +to Sanford High School, through Mignon La Salle. +I do not propose that this new girl shall spoil your +junior year for you. Come to me to-morrow at this +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64'></a>64</span> +time and I will have made up my mind what is best +for you. I am glad you told me this.” +</p> +<p> +“So am I,” sighed Marjorie. “I know that whatever +you decide will be best for me, Captain. I +am not afraid for myself. It’s only that I hate to +make trouble for this girl, even though she deserves +it. You see it may mean a good deal to her father +and mother to have her get along well in school. +She said her father wouldn’t let her go away to +boarding school. That sounds as though he wanted +her to be at home where he could look after her.” +</p> +<p> +“That must also be considered,” agreed Mrs. +Dean. “Now don’t worry about this affair any +more. I am sure we shall find the wisest way out of +it for everyone concerned. You had better run +along now and get ready for dinner. It’s almost +half-past six.” +</p> +<p> +Marjorie reached for her discarded hat. Scrambling +to her feet she embraced her mother and went +to her room, infinitely cheered. As she left the room, +Mrs. Dean sent after her a glance freighted with +motherly protection. She had no sympathy for a +girl such as Marjorie had described Rowena Farnham +to be, and she uttered a mental prayer of thankfulness +that her own daughter was above reproach. +</p> +<p> +No further mention of the affair was made between +mother and daughter that evening. Nevertheless, +Marjorie went to school the next morning +in a far from buoyant mood. She had been wakened +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65'></a>65</span> +by a reverberating roll of thunder, followed by +the furious beating of rain against her windows. A +true child of sunshine, the steady tapping of the +heavy drops filled her with a dread sense of oppression +which she could not shake off. +</p> +<p> +By noon, however, it had passed away with the +storm. When she went home to luncheon the sun +was high in the sky. The rain-washed streets were +rapidly succumbing to his warm smile. Only a +puddle here and there, or a shower of silver drops +from a breeze-shaken tree remained to remind her +of the morning deluge. +</p> +<p> +Returning from luncheon, she had hardly gained +her seat when Miss Merton stalked down the aisle to +her desk. “Report to Miss Archer at once, Miss +Dean,” she commanded in her most disagreeable +manner. +</p> +<p> +Marjorie’s thoughts immediately flew to yesterday. +Was it possible that Rowena Farnham had +gone to the principal of her own volition? It was +hardly to be credited. Remembering her mother’s +note, Marjorie jumped to the conclusion that this +was the most probable reason for the summons. +</p> +<p> +“Good afternoon, Marjorie,” greeted Miss Archer +from her desk, as the pretty junior appeared in the +doorway. “Come here, my dear. I have something +rather unusual to show you.” She motioned Marjorie +to draw up a chair beside her own. “I wonder +if you can throw any light upon this.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66'></a>66</span> +</p> +<p> +“This” was an open letter, which she now tendered +to the puzzled girl. Marjorie read: +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +“Miss Archer: +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +“Yesterday morning, at a little after eleven +o’clock, Marjorie Dean and a girl with red hair +and black eyes, whose name I do not know, +meddled with the examination papers on your +desk while you were in another part of the +building. Marjorie Dean showed the girl how +to do one of the examination problems in algebra. +This I know because I heard them talking +about it and saw them have the list of questions. +Such dishonesty is a disgrace to Sanford +High School. +</p> +<p style='text-align:right; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-right:2em;;'>“<span class='sc'>The Observer.</span>”</p> +<p> +Marjorie allowed the letter to fall from her nerveless +hands. She felt herself grow hot and cold as +she forced herself to meet Miss Archer’s intent +scrutiny. Yet she said nothing. Only her brown +eyes sent forth agonized signals of distress. +</p> +<p> +Noting her strange demeanor, Miss Archer’s +pleasant face hardened. Was Marjorie Dean really +guilty of such dishonor? If innocent, why did she +not hotly proclaim the fact? “I am waiting for you +to explain the meaning of this note, Marjorie,” she +reminded sternly. “Can you do so?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes,” came the low monosyllable. +</p> +<p> +“Then do so at once,” crisply ordered the principal. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67'></a>67</span> +</p> +<p> +Marjorie drew a long breath. “I can’t explain my +part of it without bringing in someone else,” she +faltered. +</p> +<p> +“You mean Miss Farnham, I suppose?” +</p> +<p> +Marjorie hesitated, then nodded. It appeared +that Miss Archer had already put two and two together. +</p> +<p> +“I happen to know that Miss Farnham is the only +one who could possibly answer to the description +this letter gives,” continued Miss Archer impatiently. +“She was also the only one to be interested +in the papers on my desk. I sent for you first, however, +because I wished to give you a chance to explain +how you happened to figure in this affair. I +have always had a great deal of faith in you, Marjorie. +I do not wish to lose that faith. Now I +must insist on knowing exactly what occurred here +yesterday morning. Did you or did you not assist +Miss Farnham in solving a problem in algebra, +which she culled from the examination paper in that +subject?” +</p> +<p> +“Miss Archer,” Marjorie said earnestly, “I did +help Miss Farnham with that problem, but I had no +idea that she was trying to do anything so dishonorable. +It all came about through a mistake. I’d +rather she would explain that part of it. The reason +I happened to be in this office was because of the +note my mother asked me to bring you. Miss Farnham +was here when I came in. While I sat waiting for you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68'></a>68</span> +she asked me to help her with that +problem. I solved it for her and she took it and +went away. I waited a little longer, then left the +office.” +</p> +<p> +Miss Archer’s stern features gradually relaxed as +Marjorie made this straightforward account of her +own actions. The principal noted, however, that +she had revealed considerably less regarding the +other girl. “That is a somewhat indefinite statement,” +she said slowly. “You have not been frank +as to Miss Farnham. You are keeping something +back. You must tell me all. I prefer to know +the absolute facts from you before sending for the +other party to this affair.” +</p> +<p> +“Please don’t ask me to tell you, Miss Archer,” +pleaded Marjorie. “I’d rather not.” +</p> +<p> +Miss Archer frowned, This was not the first +time that Marjorie had taken such a stubborn stand. +She knew the young girl’s horror of telling tales. +Yet here was something that she deemed it necessary +to uncover. She did not relish being thus +balked by a too rigid standard of school-girl honor. +It suddenly occurred to her to wonder how Marjorie +could have been so easily deceived. +</p> +<p> +“Do you think this is fair to me?” she questioned +sharply. “I feel that I have behaved very fairly to +you in thus far assuming that you are innocent. +There are gaps in your story which must be filled. +I wish you, not Miss Farnham, to supply them. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69'></a>69</span> +Suppose I were to say, it is very strange that you +did not suspect this girl of trickery.” +</p> +<p> +“But I didn’t, truly I didn’t,” sounded the half-tearful +protest. +</p> +<p> +“I am not actually saying that you suspected her. +Tell me this, at least. Did you know that the problem +she asked you to solve for her was from the +examination sheet?” +</p> +<p> +“I—she——” stammered the unfortunate junior. +</p> +<p> +“You did know it, then!” exclaimed Miss Archer +in pained suspicion. “This places you in a bad light. +If you knew the source of the problem you can +hardly claim innocence now unless you give me absolute +proof of it.” +</p> +<p> +“You have my word that I am not guilty.” Her +desire to cry vanished. Marjorie now spoke with +gentle dignity. “I try always to be truthful.” +</p> +<p> +Miss Archer surveyed the unobliging witness in +vexed silence. At heart she believed Marjorie to be +innocent, but she was rapidly losing patience. +“Since you won’t be frank with me, I shall interview +Miss Farnham as soon as she finishes her examinations +of the morning. I shall not allow her to go +on with this afternoon’s test until I have reached the +bottom of this affair. Come to my office as soon as +you return from luncheon. That is all.” The principal +made a dignified gesture of dismissal. +</p> +<p> +The beseeching glance poor Marjorie directed toward +Miss Archer was lost upon the now incensed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70'></a>70</span> +woman. She had already begun to busy herself at +her desk. If she had glimpsed the reproach of those +mournful eyes, it is doubtful whether she would +have been impressed by them. Secretly she was +wondering whether she had made the mistake of reposing +too much confidence in Marjorie Dean. +</p> +<h2>CHAPTER VII—FAITH AND UNFAITH</h2> +<p> +On reaching home that noon Marjorie’s first impulse +was to hurry to her mother with a recital of +the morning’s events. Greatly to her dismay, Delia +met her at the door with the announcement that her +mistress had motored to a neighboring town to +meet Mr. Dean, who had telegraphed her from there. +They would not arrive home in time for luncheon, +probably not until late in the afternoon. +</p> +<p> +Divided between the pleasure of seeing her father +and distress occasioned by Miss Archer’s implied +disbelief, Marjorie ate a lonely and most unsatisfactory +luncheon. She could think of nothing other +than the impending session in which she and Rowena +Farnham would so soon figure. She pondered +gloomily on the strange way in which the +knowledge of Rowena’s unscrupulous behavior had +been borne to Miss Archer. Who could have written that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71'></a>71</span> +letter? Could it be laid at the door of one +of the several girls who had inquired for the principal +and promptly retired from the scene? If this +were so, then some one of them must have lingered +just outside to spy upon herself and Rowena. She +knew the majority of those who had sought the office +while she lingered there. Only one or two had +been strangers. Of those she knew, she could recall +no one of them she would deem guilty of spying. +</p> +<p> +As she left her home for the high school, Marjorie +smiled in wry fashion at the thought of Rowena’s +anger when she learned that her unfair tactics +had been discovered and reported. If she +treated Miss Archer to a scene similar to that which +Marjorie had undergone in Rowena’s home, she was +very likely to find herself out of high school before +having actually entered. As it was, Rowena stood +a strong chance of forfeiting the privilege to try +the remainder of her examinations. +</p> +<p> +Twenty minutes past one found Marjorie on the +threshold of the principal’s office. At sight of her +Miss Archer bowed distantly and went on with her +writing. As yet Rowena had not put in an appearance. +Ten minutes later she strolled nonchalantly +in, her bold, black eyes registering supreme contempt +of the world in general. Her smart gown of +delft blue crêpe set off her dazzlingly fair skin and +heavy auburn hair to perfection. She was a stunning +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72'></a>72</span> +young person, and well aware of her good +looks. +</p> +<p> +“I understand you wish to see me,” she drawled +in a tone bordering on impatience. Ignoring Marjorie, +save for one swift, menacing glance, she addressed +herself to the woman at the desk. +</p> +<p> +Miss Archer had already risen. Now she fixed +the newcomer with stern, searching eyes. “Sit over +there, Miss Farnham.” She waved her to a seat beside +Marjorie on the oak bench. +</p> +<p> +With an insolent shrugging of her shoulders, Rowena +sat down, placing the length of the bench between +herself and its other occupant. “Well, what +is it?” she asked unconcernedly. +</p> +<p> +Miss Archer’s lips compressed themselves a trifle +more firmly. “Your manner is distinctly disrespectful, +Miss Farnham. Kindly remember to whom you +are speaking.” +</p> +<p> +Rowena’s shoulders again went into eloquent +play. “Oh, excuse me,” she murmured. +</p> +<p> +Ignoring the discourtesy, Miss Archer reached to +her desk for the letter, the contents of which Marjorie +already knew. Handing it to Rowena she +said: “Read this letter. You will then understand +why I sent for you.” +</p> +<p> +Looking distinctly bored, the girl perused the letter. +A tantalizing smile curved her red lips as she +finished. “This is your work,” she accused, turning +to Marjorie. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73'></a>73</span> +</p> +<p> +The latter opened her brown eyes in genuine +amazement. The accusation was totally unexpected. +“You know very well it is not,” she flung back, the +pink in her cheeks deepening. +</p> +<p> +“Whatever you have to say, Miss Farnham, you +may say to me,” reproved the principal. “I have already +gone over the contents of this letter with +Miss Dean.” +</p> +<p> +“I have nothing to say,” replied Rowena serenely. +</p> +<p> +“But <em>I</em> have several things to say to you,” reminded +Miss Archer sharply. “I demand a complete +explanation of what occurred here during my +absence yesterday morning.” +</p> +<p> +“I am afraid you’ve come to the wrong person, +then.” Rowena was coolly defiant. “Miss Dean +can answer your question better than I. No doubt +she has already said a number of pleasant things +about me.” +</p> +<p> +“Miss Dean has said nothing to your discredit. In +fact she has refused to commit herself. She prefers +that you do the explaining.” Unconsciously Miss +Archer sprang into irritated defense of Marjorie. +</p> +<p> +Rowena’s black eyebrows lifted themselves. So +the goody-goody had refused to betray her! This +was decidedly interesting. Her clever brain at once +leaped to the conclusion that with Marjorie’s lips +sealed it would be hard to establish her own dishonesty. +In itself the letter offered no actual proof. It +was merely signed “The Observer.” A cunning expression +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74'></a>74</span> +crept into her eyes. “Someone must have +been trying to play a joke,” she now airily suggested. +“The very fact that the letter isn’t properly +signed goes to prove that.” +</p> +<p> +“<em>Miss Farnham!</em>” The principal’s authoritative +utterance betrayed her great displeasure. “You are +overstepping all bounds. Miss Dean herself has admitted +that she solved an algebraic problem for you. +I insist on knowing whether or not that problem was +taken from an examination sheet that lay among +others on my desk. If so, there is but one inference +to be drawn. During my absence you tampered with +the papers on my desk. No such thing has ever before +occurred in the history of this school. Now I +ask you pointblank, did you or did you not meddle +with my papers?” +</p> +<p> +Without replying, Rowena’s eyes roved shrewdly +to Marjorie, as though trying to discover what the +latter intended to do. Were she to reply to the +question in the negative, would this baby of a girl, +whom she already despised, still maintain silence? +</p> +<p> +Apparently, Marjorie read her thought. “Miss +Farnham,” she broke in, her soft voice ringing with +purpose, “if you do not answer Miss Archer truthfully, +I, at least, will.” +</p> +<p> +That settled it. Nevertheless, Rowena determined +that Marjorie should pay for her interference. “If +you must know,” she said sullenly, “I did glance +over them. You had no business to leave them on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75'></a>75</span> +the desk. Miss Dean saw me do it, too, but she +didn’t seem to mind. I even showed her that problem +in quadratics and told her I couldn’t do it. So +she did it for me.” +</p> +<p> +“Is this true?” To the distressed listener Miss +Archer’s amazed question came as a faint and far-off +sound. Driven into a corner by Rowena’s spiteful +misrepresentation, Marjorie determined to clear +herself of the opprobrium. “I saw Miss Farnham +with the papers,” she affirmed. “She pointed out +to me the one she couldn’t do and I solved it for +her. I thought——” +</p> +<p> +“That will do.” Never to Marjorie’s recollection +had Miss Archer’s voice carried with it such unmeasured +severity. For once she was too thoroughly +displeased to be just. Only that morning Marjorie +had earnestly proclaimed her innocence. Brought +face to face with Rowena, she had renigged, or so +it now seemed to the affronted principal. Abhoring +deceit and untruthfulness, she rashly ticketed her +hitherto favorite pupil with both faults. +</p> +<p> +“But Miss Archer,” pleaded Marjorie desperately, +“won’t you allow me to——” +</p> +<p> +“It strikes me that too much has already been +said that might better have been left unsaid,” cut in +the principal coldly. “You two young women are +guilty of a most despicable bit of work. If it lay +within my power I would expel both of you from +the school you have disgraced. This matter will be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76'></a>76</span> +taken up by the Board of Education. All I can do +is to send you both home, there to await the decision +of those above me. Your parents shall be informed +at once of what has taken place. As for you, Miss +Farnham, in case the Board decides to give you another +chance you will be obliged to take an entirely +new set of examinations. In a measure I hold myself +responsible for this. I should have locked my +desk. I have always trusted my pupils. Dishonesty +on the part of two of them is a severe blow. +You may both leave the school at once. <em>You</em>, Miss +Dean, need not return to the study hall.” +</p> +<p> +Rowena Farnham received her dismissal with an +elaborate shrug that plainly indicated how little she +cared. Without deigning a reply she strolled out +of the office, apparently as self-possessed as when +she had entered. Marjorie, however, remained +rooted to the bench on which she sat. She could not +believe the evidence of her own ears. Neither could +she credit the principal’s sudden unjust stand. +</p> +<p> +“Miss Archer,” she faltered, “won’t you——” +</p> +<p> +“The subject is closed, Miss Dean. Kindly leave +my office.” Miss Archer refused to meet the two +pleading eyes that persistently sought hers. This +self-revelation of the girl’s guilt had dealt her a +hurt which she could not soon forget. To uncover +treachery and dishonesty in a friend is an experience +which carries with it its own bitterness. The very +fact that it is unexpected makes it infinitely harder +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77'></a>77</span> +to bear. Miss Archer’s disappointment in Marjorie +was so great as to obscure her usually clear insight +into matters. She had trusted her so implicitly. +She felt as though she could not endure her presence +in the office. Now she kept her gaze resolutely +fixed on her desk, nor did she alter it until the echo +of the misjudged lieutenant’s light footfalls had entirely +died away. +</p> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII—FOR THE GOOD OF THE ARMY</h2> +<p> +Marjorie could never quite recall the details of +that dreadful walk home. Only once before in her +short life had she been so utterly crushed. That +was on the day she had rushed from the little gray +house, believing that her beloved Constance was a +thief. Now it came back to her with force. Just as +she had felt on that terrible afternoon, so must Miss +Archer be feeling now. Miss Archer thought that +she, Marjorie Dean, was unworthy to be a pupil of +Sanford High. “If only Miss Archer had listened +to me,” surged through her troubled brain as she +walked the seemingly endless road home. What +would Captain and General say? +</p> +<p> +Yet with this thought a gleam of daylight pierced +the dark. Her Captain already knew all. She knew +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78'></a>78</span> +her daughter to be innocent of wrongdoing. General +would believe in her, too. They would not see +her thus disgraced without a hearing. She would +yet be able to prove to Miss Archer that she was +blameless of such dishonesty. +</p> +<p> +“Well, well!” She had mounted the steps of her +home when a cheery voice thus called out to her. +The next instant she was in her father’s arms. Delight +in seeing him, coupled with all she had just +undergone, broke down the difficult composure she +had managed to maintain while in Miss Archer’s +presence. With a little sob, Marjorie threw herself +into her father’s arms, pillowing her curly head +against his comforting shoulder. +</p> +<p> +“My dear child, what has happened?” Mrs. Dean +regarded her daughter’s shaking shoulders with patient +anxiety as she cried out the startled question. +</p> +<p> +“There, there, Lieutenant.” Mr. Dean gathered +the weeping girl close in his protecting arms. +“Surely you aren’t crying because your worthy general +has come home?” +</p> +<p> +“No-o-o,” came the muffled protest. “I’m—glad. +It’s—not—that. I’ve—been—suspended—from—school.” +</p> +<p> +“What!” Mr. Dean raised the weeper’s head +from his shoulders and gazed deep into the overflowing +brown eyes. +</p> +<p> +“It’s true,” gulped Marjorie. “I’m not—to—blame—though. +It’s all—a—misunderstanding.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79'></a>79</span> +</p> +<p> +“Then we’ll straighten it out,” soothed Mr. Dean. +“Come, now. You and Captain and I will go into +the living room and sit right down on the nice comfy +davenport. Then you can wail your troubles into +our sympathetic ears. Your superior officers will +stand by you. You take one arm, Captain, and I’ll +take the other.” +</p> +<p> +Resigning herself to the guidance of those who +loved her best, Marjorie suffered herself to be led +into the living room and deposited on the friendly +davenport, a solicitous parent on either side. +</p> +<p> +“You’re wonderful, both of you,” she sighed, possessing +herself of a hand of each. Her brief gust +of grief had spent itself. Her voice was now almost +steady. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Dean had already made a shrewd guess regarding +the reason for Marjorie’s tears. “Is that +affair of yesterday responsible for your suspension +from school, Lieutenant?” she questioned abruptly. +</p> +<p> +“Yes.” With an occasional quaver in her speech, +Marjorie went over the details of both visits to the +principal’s office. +</p> +<p> +“Hm!” ejaculated Mr. Dean, his eyes seeking his +wife’s. “Suppose you tell your general the beginning +of all this.” +</p> +<p> +“It strikes me that Miss Archer behaved in a +rather high-handed manner,” he observed dryly +when Marjorie had ended her sad little story. +</p> +<p> +“I can’t blame her so much.” Marjorie was loyal +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80'></a>80</span> +to the death. “I know just how terribly it must +have hurt her. I suppose I should have told her +everything in the first place.” +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Dean released Marjorie’s hand and rose +from the davenport, intense determination written +on every feature. “Miss Archer will listen to <em>me</em>,” +she announced grimly. “I shall go to Sanford High +School at once. My daughter is entitled to justice +and she shall receive it. I am surprised at Miss Archer’s +unfair attitude. Go upstairs and bathe your +face, Marjorie. General, will you see to the car?” +</p> +<p> +“But she won’t see me, I am afraid.” +</p> +<p> +“Nonsense,” returned her mother with unusual +brusqueness. Stepping into the hall, she consulted +the telephone directory. “Give me Sycamore 213,” +she called into the transmitter. “Miss Archer? +This is Mrs. Dean. Marjorie has just come from +school. I am sure you will accept my word that she +has done nothing dishonest. Will it be convenient +for you to see us at once? Thank you. We will be +at the high school within the next half hour.” +</p> +<p> +During the short telephone conversation, Marjorie +stood at her mother’s side, hardly daring to +breathe. Mrs. Dean hung up the receiver to the +accompaniment of her daughter’s wild embrace. +“Go and make yourself presentable,” she chided. +Disengaging the clinging arms, she gave Marjorie a +gentle shove toward the stairs. +</p> +<p> +Youth’s tears are quickly dried, its sorrows soon +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81'></a>81</span> +forgotten. Ten minutes afterward, a radiant-faced +lieutenant presented herself in the hall, renewed +buoyancy in her step as she and her captain passed +through the gate to where the automobile awaited +them with Mr. Dean at the wheel. +</p> +<p> +“I’ll stay here,” he decided as they drew up before +the high school. “Let our valiant captain lead +the charge. You can fall back on your reserves if +you are routed with slaughter.” +</p> +<p> +“Captain’s won half the battle,” joyfully declared +Marjorie. “Now I am sure I can win the other +half.” Blowing a kiss to her father she set her face +toward vindication. +</p> +<p> +Miss Archer greeted Mrs. Dean in a friendly, impersonal +fashion, which showed plainly that she was +not displeased with the latter for taking such prompt +action. Her bow to Marjorie was distinctly reserved, +however. She had yet to be convinced of +the girl’s innocence. +</p> +<p> +“According to Marjorie’s story, Miss Archer,” +began Mrs. Dean with gentle directness, “she has +been the victim of circumstantial evidence. I am not +here to criticize your stand in this affair. I understand +that you must have been severely tried. I +merely wish to ask you to allow Marjorie to tell +her story from beginning to end. She came to me +yesterday with it, and asked my advice. I deferred +decision until to-day. It seems I was a day too late. +However, I wish her to do the explaining.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82'></a>82</span> +</p> +<p> +A faint, embarrassed flush stole to Miss Archer’s +face as she listened. She was beginning to realize +that she had for once been too quick to condemn. +Mrs. Dean was too high-principled a woman to attempt +to smooth over her own child’s offences. +Under the battery of her friend’s clear eyes, the +principal found herself penitently responding: “Mrs. +Dean, I must admit that I am at fault. Had I stopped +to listen to Marjorie, I am now certain that I +should have found her explanation satisfactory.” +</p> +<p> +“Thank you.” Mrs. Dean extended a gracious +hand in which the principal laid her own with a +smile. The two women understood each other perfectly. +</p> +<p> +Marjorie’s sensitive lips quivered as Miss Archer’s +hand went out to her also. “I am only too +glad to be able to apologize for misjudging you, +Marjorie,” she said with grave gentleness. “The +truest atonement which I can make is to say ‘I believe +in you’ without a hearing.” +</p> +<p> +“But I wish to tell you everything, Miss Archer,” +assured Marjorie earnestly. “It was only because +I hated the idea of tale-bearing that I didn’t tell you +this morning. I thought that Miss Farnham——” +</p> +<p> +“Would tell me,” supplemented the principal. “I +quite understand. Frankly it would help me very +much if you put me in complete possession of the +facts of the case. I hardly believe you owe it to +Miss Farnham to conceal anything.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83'></a>83</span> +</p> +<p> +With a charitable striving toward placing the +other girl in the least obnoxious light, Marjorie gave +Miss Archer a true but unmalicious version of all +that had passed between herself and Rowena Farnham. +</p> +<p> +“This is simply outrageous,” was Miss Archer’s +emphatic verdict. “Miss Farnham is a menace to +Sanford High School. In all my experience with +young women I have never met with her equal. I +shall recommend the Board that she be not allowed +to enter the school. A firebrand such as she has +shown herself to be is more than likely to spread her +devastating influence throughout the school. We +have a duty to perform to the parents who intrust +their daughters to us which cannot be overlooked.” +</p> +<p> +“I agree with you,” was Mrs. Dean’s grave response. +“Still, I am very sorry for this girl, and +for her parents. We all wish to be proud of our +children. It must be dreadful to be disappointed in +them.” +</p> +<p> +“You, at least, will never be called upon to bear +such a disappointment.” Miss Archer’s hearty reply +caused an exchange of affectionate glances between +her hearers. +</p> +<p> +“I hope I shall always prove worthy of Captain’s +and your trust.” Marjorie’s little speech rung with +modest sincerity. Hesitatingly she added: “Miss +Archer, couldn’t you possibly give Miss Farnham +another chance? When I was at her house the other +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84'></a>84</span> +day she said that her father and mother wanted her +to go to high school. She’d rather go to boarding +school, but they won’t let her. If she isn’t allowed +to enter Sanford High she will have to go away to +school. That might not be the best thing for her.” +Marjorie paused, blushing at her own temerity. +</p> +<p> +“You are a very forgiving little girl.” Miss Archer +eyed the pleader in a whimsical fashion. +“There is a great deal in your view of the matter, +too. It is a question of one girl’s parents against +many, however. So far as I can remember this is +the first case in the history of the school that warranted +dismissal. As you have been the chief sufferer +in this tangle, your plea for clemency should +be respected. It shall be mentioned to the members +of the Board of Education. That is all I can promise +now. Personally, as <em>you</em> are great-spirited +enough to plead for her, I am willing to do my part. +But only on your account. I doubt the advisability +of allowing her to go on with her examinations. +However, ‘forewarned is forearmed.’ Should she +be permitted to enter the school, I shall keep a watchful +eye on her.” +</p> +<p> +Real admiration of Marjorie’s readiness to help +one who had treated her so shabbily caused the +principal to speak as confidentially to her pupil as she +might have to a member of the Board. Marjorie, +as well as her mother, was aware of this. Yet far +from being elated at the mark of confidence, the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85'></a>85</span> +pretty junior bore her honors almost humbly. She +merely thanked Miss Archer in the sweet, gracious +fashion that set her apart from all other girls with +whom the principal had come in contact during her +long service on the field of education. +</p> +<p> +Almost immediately afterward the Deans said +farewell and departed happily to convey the good +news to their somewhat impatient chauffeur, who sat +in the automobile pondering whimsically on the +length and breadth of women’s chats. Long after +they had gone, Marjorie’s winsome, selfless personality +haunted the busy principal. To be truly great +one must be truly good was her inner reflection. +Remembering past circumstances in which Marjorie +had figured ever as a force for good, she marveled +that she could have doubted her. And as a vision +of the girl’s lovely face, animated by the light from +within, rose before her she mentally prophesied that +Marjorie Dean was destined one day to reach the +heights. +</p> +<h2>CHAPTER IX—A SUDDEN ATTACK</h2> +<p> +“Where were you yesterday afternoon?” demanded +Jerry Macy, as Marjorie walked into the +locker room at the close of the morning session. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86'></a>86</span> +</p> +<p> +Marjorie considered for a moment. Should she +tell Jerry or should she not? She decided in the +negative. “I was at home a part of the afternoon.” +</p> +<p> +Jerry measured her with a calculating eye. “You +don’t want to tell me, do you?” was her blunt question. +“All right. Forget it. Anyway, we missed +you. You’re a mysterious person. One day you +march off on a dark, secret errand after making lavish +promises to treat on the next. When that day +rolls around you don’t appear at all. Never mind. +I saved your face by treating for you.” Jerry delivered +her opinion of her friend’s peculiar behavior +good-humoredly enough. Underneath, however, she +was a tiny bit peeved. She was very fond of Marjorie +and prided herself that she was entirely in the +latter’s confidence. +</p> +<p> +“You’re not cross with me, are you, Jerry?” +Marjorie regarded the stout girl rather anxiously. +She could not conceive of being on the outs with +funny, bluff Geraldine Macy. +</p> +<p> +“No; I’m not a silly like Mignon,” mumbled Jerry +gruffly. “You ought to know that by this time without +asking me.” +</p> +<p> +“Jerry Macy, I believe you are angry with me,” +declared Marjorie, looking still more troubled. +</p> +<p> +“No, I’m not,” came the quick retort. “I’m not +blind, either, and my head isn’t made of wood.” +</p> +<p> +“What do you mean?” It was Marjorie’s turn +to speak quickly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87'></a>87</span> +</p> +<p> +“Just what I say,” asserted Jerry. “You’ve had +some sort of trouble over that Farnham girl. Rowena—humph! +It ought to be Row-ena with a special +accent on the <em>Row</em>. I knew by the way you +looked and spoke of her day before yesterday that +something had gone wrong. I’ll bet I know where +you went on that errand, too. You went to her +house. Now didn’t you?” +</p> +<p> +Marjorie gave a short laugh. It held a note of +vexation. “Really, Jerry, you ought to be a detective. +How did you know where I went yesterday +after I left you?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I just guessed it. It’s like you to do that +sort of thing. I’m dying to hear what it’s all about. +Are you going to tell me <em>now</em>?” She accented the +“now” quite triumphantly. +</p> +<p> +“I hadn’t intended to mention it to anyone, but I +might as well tell <em>you</em>. You seem to know quite a +little bit about it already. I can’t say anything more +now. Here come Susan and Muriel. We’ll talk of +it after we leave them at their street. By the way, +where is Constance? She wasn’t in school this +morning.” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t know. I wondered about her, too. She +didn’t say yesterday that she wasn’t coming to school +to-day. Maybe her father marched into Gray Gables +without notice.” +</p> +<p> +“Perhaps. I’ll ask the girls if they know.” +</p> +<p> +Neither Susan, Muriel nor Irma, the latter joining +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88'></a>88</span> +the quartette immediately after, knew the reason +for Constance Stevens’ absence. The five girls +trooped out of the building together, chatting gaily +as they started home for luncheon. Marjorie gave +a little shiver as it occurred to her how near she had +come to losing her right to be a pupil of Sanford +High. She felt that nothing save the loss of her +dear ones would have hurt her more than to have +been dismissed from school under a cloud. +</p> +<p> +“Now tell me everything,” began Jerry, the moment +they had parted from the three girls to continue +on up the pleasant, tree-lined avenue. +</p> +<p> +“I think that was simply <em>awful</em>,” burst forth the +now irate Jerry, as Marjorie concluded her narration. +“Talk about Mignon—she’s an angel with +beautiful feathery wings, when you come to compare +her with Row-ena. I hope the Board says she +can’t set foot in school again. That’s what I hope. +I’ll tell my father to vote against letting her try any +more examinations. That’s what I’ll do.” +</p> +<p> +“You mustn’t do that.” Marjorie spoke with unusual +severity. “What I’ve said to you is in confidence. +Besides, it wouldn’t be fair. For her father’s +and mother’s sake I think she ought to have another +chance. It might be the very best thing for +her to go to high school. She will be far better off +at home than away at boarding school. If she could +go away to a college it would be different. Colleges +are more strict and dignified. A girl just has to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89'></a>89</span> +live up to their traditions. General says that even +in the most select boarding schools the girls have +too much liberty. So you see it wouldn’t be a good +place for this girl.” +</p> +<p> +“I see you’re a goose,” was Jerry’s unflattering +comment. “You’re a dear goose, though. You +certainly have the reform habit. I can tell you, +though, that you are all wrong about this Farnham +girl. You remember how beautifully we reformed +Mignon, and how grateful she was. Mignon’s a +mere infant beside gentle, little Row-ena. You +notice I still say <em>Row</em>. It’s a very good name for +her. Of course, we could change off occasionally +and call her Fightena, or Quarrelena, or Scrapena.” +Jerry giggled at her own witticism. +</p> +<p> +Marjorie could not forbear joining her. Jerry’s +disapproval of things was usually tinged with comedy. +“You’re a heartless person, Jeremiah,” she reproved +lightly. “I’m not going to try to reform +Miss Farnham. I can’t imagine her as taking kindly +to it. I’m only saying that she ought to have another +chance.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, if you can stand it I can,” Jerry sighed, +then chuckled as her vivid imagination pictured to +her the high-handed Rowena struggling in the +clutches of reform. “Miss Archer ought to have +thought twice and spoken once,” she added grimly. +“That’s what she’s always preaching to us to do.” +Jerry was no respecter of personages. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90'></a>90</span> +</p> +<p> +“I can’t blame her much,” Marjorie shook her +head. “It’s dreadful to think that someone you’ve +trusted is dishonorable. It hurts a good deal worse +than if it were someone you had expected would +fail you. I <em>know</em>.” +</p> +<p> +“I suppose you do.” Jerry understood the significant +“I know.” Rather more gently she continued: +“Perhaps you’re right about Fightena, I mean +Row-ena. You generally are right, only you’ve got +into some tangled webs trying to prove it. Anyway, +she won’t be a junior if she does manage to get +into school. She’ll be a sophomore. I hope she +stays where she belongs. You’d better look out for +her, though. If she really thinks you wrote that +anonymous letter—I don’t believe she does—she’ll +try to get even. With Mignon La Salle to help, +she might bother you a good deal. I hope they have +a falling out.” +</p> +<p> +“You are always hoping some terrible thing,” +laughed Marjorie. “You have the hoping habit, and +your hopes about other people are really horrifying.” +</p> +<p> +“Never mind, they never amount to much,” consoled +Jerry with a chuckle. “I’ve been hoping awful +things about people I don’t like for years and that’s +all the good it’s ever done.” +</p> +<p> +“I think I’ll run over to Gray Gables after school,” +Marjorie changed the subject with sudden abruptness. +“Want to go with me?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91'></a>91</span> +</p> +<p> +“I’ll go,” assented Jerry. “I owe Charlie a box +of candy. I promised it to him the night of Mary’s +farewell party. Mary wrote me a dandy letter. Did +I tell you about it?” +</p> +<p> +“No. I’ve had one from her, too; eighteen +pages.” +</p> +<p> +“Some letter. Mine was only ten.” +</p> +<p> +The introduction of Mary’s name into the conversation +kept the two girls busy talking until they +were about to part company. +</p> +<p> +“Don’t forget you are going with me to see Constance,” +reminded Marjorie as Jerry left her at the +Macys’ gate. +</p> +<p> +“Do you believe that I could possibly forget?” +Jerry laid a fat hand over her heart in ridiculous +imitation of a certain sentimental high school youth +whom Marjorie continually endeavored to dodge. +</p> +<p> +“See that you don’t,” was her laughing retort. +“Shall we ask Muriel, Susan and Irma to go with +us?” +</p> +<p> +“None of them can go. Muriel has to take a +piano lesson. Susan has a date with her dressmaker, +and Irma’s going shopping with her mother. You +see I know everything about everybody,” asserted +Jerry, unconsciously repeating Constance Stevens’ +very words. +</p> +<p> +“You surely do,” Marjorie agreed. “Good-bye, +then. I’ll meet you in the locker room after school +to-night.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92'></a>92</span> +</p> +<p> +“My name is Johnny-on-the-spot,” returned the irrepressible +Jerry over her shoulder. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, dear!” Marjorie exclaimed in impatience, as +she walked into the locker room at the end of the +afternoon session to find Jerry already there ahead +of her. “I’ve left my Cæsar in my desk. I’ll have +to go back after it. That lesson for to-morrow is +dreadfully long. Somehow I couldn’t keep my attention +on study that last hour, so I just bundled +all my books together and thought I’d put in a busy +evening. I don’t see how I missed my Commentaries. +It shows that my mind was wandering.” +</p> +<p> +“Come on over to my house this evening. You +can use my Cæsar. We’ll put one over on the busy +little bee and have some fun afterward. Besides, +Hal will be grateful to me for a week. I’ll make +good use of his gratitude, too,” grinned wily Jerry. +</p> +<p> +Marjorie’s cheeks grew delightfully pink. In her +frank, girlish fashion she was very fond of Jerry’s +handsome brother. Although her liking for him +was not one of foolish sentimentality, she could +not help being a trifle pleased at this direct insinuation +of his preference for her. +</p> +<p> +“All right. I’m sure Captain will say ‘yes,’” she +made reply. “I won’t bother to go back after my +book. If I did Miss Merton might snap at me. I +try to keep out of her way as much as I can. Where +are the girls? Have they gone?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, they beat it in a hurry. Come on. Let’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93'></a>93</span> +be on our way.” Though deplorably addicted to +slang, Jerry was at least forcefully succinct. +</p> +<p> +It was a fairly long walk to Gray Gables, but their +way led through one of the prettiest parts of Sanford. +Situated almost on the outskirts of the town, +the picturesque dwelling was in itself one of the +beauty spots of the thriving little city. +</p> +<p> +“There’s the Jail.” Jerry indexed a plump finger +toward the inhospitable stone house which Marjorie +had so lately visited. The two girls had +reached the point where a turn in the wide, elm-shaded +avenue brought them within sight of the La +Salle and Farnham properties. “It would be a good +place for Row-ena, if she had to stay locked up +there. She could think over her sins and reform +without help. I hope——” +</p> +<p> +“There you go again,” laughed Marjorie. “Don’t +do it. Suppose some day all these things you have +hoped about other people were to come back to +you.” +</p> +<p> +“I won’t worry about it until they do,” Jerry made +optimistic answer. “If I——” She checked herself +to stare at a runabout that shot past them, driven +at a reckless rate of speed by an elfish-faced girl. +“There they go!” she exclaimed. “Did you see +who was in that machine? Oh, look! They’re slowing +up! Now they’ve stopped! I hope they’ve had +a breakdown.” +</p> +<p> +Marjorie’s eyes were already riveted on the runabout +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94'></a>94</span> +which they were now approaching. A tall +figure whom she at once recognized as belonging to +Rowena Farnham was in the act of emerging from +the machine. Hatless, her auburn head gleaming in +the sun, her black eyes flaming challenge, she stood +at one side of the runabout, drawn up for battle. +</p> +<p> +“She’s waiting for us!” gasped Jerry. “Let’s +turn around and walk the other way, just to fool +her. No; let’s not. I guess we can hold our own.” +</p> +<p> +“I shall have nothing to say to her,” decided Marjorie, +a youthful picture of cold disdain. “Don’t +you say a word, either, Jerry. We’ll walk on about +our own business, just as though we didn’t even see +her.” +</p> +<p> +Jerry had no time to reply. Almost immediately +they caught up with the belligerent Rowena. Realizing +that her quarry was about to elude her, she +sprang squarely in front of them with, “Wait a +minute. I’ve something to say to <em>you</em>.” The “you” +was directed at Marjorie. +</p> +<p> +Marjorie was about to circle the lively impediment +and move on, when Mignon La Salle called +from the runabout, “I told you she was a coward, +Rowena.” A scornful laugh accompanied the insult. +</p> +<p> +That settled it. Marjorie’s recent resolution flew +to the winds. “I will hear whatever you have to +say,” she declared quietly, stopping short. +</p> +<p> +“I don’t very well see how you can do anything +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95'></a>95</span> +else,” sneered Rowena. “I suppose you think that +you gained a great deal by your tale-bearing yesterday, +don’t you? Let me tell you, you’ve made a mistake. +I’m going to be a sophomore in Sanford High +School just the same. You’ll see. You are a sneaking +little prig, and I’m going to make it my business +to let every girl in school know it. You can’t——” +</p> +<p> +“<em>You</em> can’t talk like that to Marjorie Dean.” Before +Marjorie could reply, Jerry Macy leaped into a +hot defense. “I won’t have it! She is my friend.” +</p> +<p> +“Shh! Jerry, please don’t,” Marjorie protested. +</p> +<p> +“I will. Don’t stop me. You,” she glared at Rowena, +“make me sick. I could tell you in about one +minute where you get off at, but it isn’t worth the +waste of breath. Marjorie Dean has more friends in +a minute in Sanford High than you’ll ever have. +You think you and Mignon La Salle can do a whole +lot. Better not try it, you’ll wish you hadn’t. Now +get busy and beat it. You’re blocking the highway.” +</p> +<p> +“What a delightful person you are,” jeered Rowena. +“Just the sort of friend I’d imagine Miss +Dean might have. As I have had the pleasure of +telling her what I think of her, you may as well +hear my opinion of yourself. You are the rudest +girl I ever met, and the slangiest. My father and +mother would never forgive me if they knew I even +spoke to such a girl.” Having delivered herself of +this Parthian shot, Rowena wheeled and stepped into +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96'></a>96</span> +the runabout with, “Go ahead, Mignon. I don’t +care to be seen talking with such persons.” +</p> +<p> +As the runabout started away with a defiant chug, +Jerry and Marjorie stared at each other in silence. +</p> +<p> +“I hope——” began Jerry, then stopped. “Say,” +she went on the next instant, “that was what Hal +would call a hot shot, wasn’t it?” +</p> +<p> +“It was,” Marjorie admitted. In spite of her +vexation at the unexpected attack, she could hardly +repress a smile. Quite unknowingly Rowena had +attacked Jerry’s pet failing. Her constant use of +popular slang was a severe cross to both her father +and mother. Over and over she had been lectured +by them on this very subject, only to maintain that +if Hal used slang she saw no reason why she +shouldn’t. To please them she made spasmodic efforts +toward polite English, but when excited or +angry she was certain to drop back into this forceful +but inelegant vernacular. +</p> +<p> +“I suppose I do use a whole lot of slang.” Jerry +made the admission rather ruefully. “Mother says +I’m the limit. There I go again. I mean mother +says I’m—what am I?” she asked with a giggle. +</p> +<p> +“You are a very good friend, Jerry.” Marjorie +looked her affection for the crestfallen champion of +her rights. “I wouldn’t worry about what she—Miss +Farnham says. If you think you ought not +to use slang, then just try not to use it.” Marjorie +was too greatly touched by Jerry’s loyalty to peck +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97'></a>97</span> +at this minor failing. “What a strange combination +those two girls make!” she mused. “I can’t imagine +them being friends for very long. They are both +too fond of having their own way. I must say I +wasn’t scared by all those threats. It isn’t what +others say about one that counts, it’s what one really +is that makes a difference.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s just what I think,” agreed Jerry. “We +all know Mignon so well now that we can pretty +nearly beat her at her own game. As for this +Rowena, she’d better wait until she gets back into +Sanford High before she plans to do much. All that +sort of thing is so silly and useless, now isn’t it? It +reminds me of these blood-and-thunder movies like +‘The Curse of a Red Hot Hate,’ or ‘The Double-dyed +Villain’s Horrible Revenge,’ or ‘The Iron Hand +of Hatred’s Death-Dealing Wallop.’” Jerry saw +fit to chuckle at this last creation of fancifully appropriate +title. “You’re right about those two, +though. Don’t you remember I said the same thing +when I first told you of this Farnham girl? Mignon +has met her match, at last. She’ll find it out, +too, before she’s many weeks older, or my name’s +not Jerry Macy.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98'></a>98</span>CHAPTER X—A CRUSHING PENALTY</h2> +<p> +As Jerry had guessed, Constance Stevens’ absence +from school was due to the fact that her foster-father +had descended upon Gray Gables for a brief +visit. He was delighted to see both Marjorie and +Jerry. Constance insisted that they should remain +to dinner, whereupon the tireless telephone was put +into use and the two remained at Gray Gables, there +to spend a most agreeable evening. At about eleven +o’clock Hal Macy appeared to take them home in +the Macy’s smart limousine. Thus, in the pleasure +of being with her friends, Marjorie quite forgot the +disagreeable incident that had earlier befallen herself +and Jerry. Strange to say, Cæsar’s Commentaries, +also, faded from recollection, and it was +not until they were driving home that the estimable +Roman was tardily remembered along with previous +good intentions. “It’s unprepared for ours,” was +Jerry’s doleful cry, thereby proving that the will to +abolish slang was better than the deed. +</p> +<p> +Due to placing pleasure before duty, Marjorie felt +it incumbent upon her to make an early entrance into +school the next morning for the purpose of taking +a hasty peep at her neglected text books. She was +lucky, she told herself, in that the last hour in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99'></a>99</span> +morning would give her an opportunity to go over +her Cæsar lesson. She, therefore, confined her attention +to her English literature, deciding that she +could somehow manage to slide through her French +without absolute failure. Civil government would +also have to take its chance for one recitation. +</p> +<p> +When at fifteen minutes past eleven she came into +the study hall from French class and settled herself +to begin the business of Latin, she was for once +glad to lay hold on the fat, green volume devoted to +the doings of the invincible Cæsar. Opening it, a +faint cluck of surprise fell from her lips as she took +from it a square, white envelope addressed to herself. +It was unsealed and as she drew forth the +folded paper which it held she wondered mightily +how it had come to be there. She was very sure +she had not placed it in the book. Her bewilderment +deepened as she read: +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +“<span class='sc'>Miss Dean</span>: +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +“After what occurred the other day in the +principal’s office it is surprising that you were +not expelled from Sanford High School. It +proves you to be a special pet of Miss Archer. +Such unfairness is contemptible in a principal. +It should be exposed, along with your dishonesty. +Sooner or later even that will be found +out and you will receive your just deserts. It is +a long lane that has no turning. +</p> +<p style='text-align:right; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-right:2em;;'>“<span class='sc'>The Observer</span>.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100'></a>100</span></div> +<p> +Marjorie emitted a faint sigh of pure amazement +as she finished reading this sinister prediction of her +ultimate downfall. It was a piece of rank absurdity, +evidently penned by someone who had no intimate +knowledge of inside facts. Still it filled her with +a curious sense of horror. She loathed the very idea +of an anonymous letter. Once before since she had +first set foot in Sanford High the experience of receiving +one of these mysterious communications had +been hers. It had pertained to basket ball, however. +She had easily guessed its origin and it had troubled +her little. This letter was of an entirely different +character. It proved that among the girls with +whom she daily met and associated there was one, +at least, who did not wish her well. +</p> +<p> +As she reread the spiteful message, her thoughts +leaped to Rowena Farnham as the person most open +to suspicion. Yet Rowena had made a direct attack +upon her. Again there was Mignon. She was +wholly capable of such a deed. Strangely enough, +Marjorie was seized with the belief that neither girl +was responsible for it. She did not know why she +believed this to be true. She simply accepted it as +such, and cudgelled her brain for another more +plausible solution of the mystery. +</p> +<p> +As she studied it the more she became convinced +that the writing was the same as that of the similarly +signed letter Miss Archer had received. The +stationery, too, was the same. The words, “The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101'></a>101</span> +Observer,” were the crowning proof which entirely +exonerated Rowena. She had certainly not written +the first note. Therefore, she had not written the +second. Marjorie was in a quandary as to whether +or not she should go frankly to the principal and +exhibit the letter. She felt that Miss Archer would +wish to see it, and at once take the matter up. She +could hardly charge Rowena with it, thereby lessening +her chances of entering the school. This second +note made no mention of Rowena. Its spitefulness +was directed entirely toward Marjorie herself. As +it pertained wholly to her, she believed that it might +be better to keep the affair locked within her own +breast. After all, it might amount to nothing. No +doubt, Rowena had related her own version of the +algebra problem to Mignon. Mignon was noted for +her malicious powers of gossip. A garbled account +on her part of the matter might have aroused some +one of her few allies to this cowardly method of attack. +Still this explanation would not cover the +writing of the first letter. +</p> +<p> +Quite at sea regarding its source, Marjorie gave +the distasteful missive an impatient little flip that +sent it fluttering off her desk to the floor. Reaching +down she lifted it, holding it away from her as +though it were a noisome weed. She burned to tear +it into bits, but an inner prompting stayed her destroying +hands. Replacing it in the envelope, she +tucked it inside her silk blouse, determining to file +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102'></a>102</span> +it away at home in case she needed it for future reference. +She hoped, however, that it would never be +needed. Whoever had slipped it into her Cæsar +must have done so after she had left her desk on +the previous afternoon, following the close of the +session. She wished she knew those who had lingered +in the study hall after half-past three. This +she was not likely to learn. Her own intimate +friends had all passed out of the study hall at the +ringing of the closing bell. She resolved that she +would make casual inquiries elsewhere in the hope +of finding a clue. +</p> +<p> +During the rest of the week she pursued this +course with tactful assiduousness, but she could discover +nothing worth while. What she did learn, +however, was that due to a strenuous appeal to the +Board of Education on the part of Mr. Farnham, his +daughter had been allowed, on strict promise of future +good behavior, to try an entirely new set of examinations. +Fortune must have attended her, for +on the next Monday she appeared in the study hall +as radiantly triumphant as though she had received +a great honor, rather than a reluctant admission into +the sophomore fold. +</p> +<p> +“Well, she got there!” hailed Jerry Macy in high +disgust, happening to meet Marjorie in the corridor +between classes on the morning of Rowena’s retarded +arrival. “My father said they had quite a +time about it. She got into school by just one vote. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103'></a>103</span> +He wouldn’t tell me which way he voted, but he +said he was glad she wasn’t his daughter.” +</p> +<p> +“I’m honestly glad for hers and her parents’ sake +that she was allowed another trial.” Marjorie spoke +with sincere earnestness. “She’s had a severe lesson. +She may profit by it and get along without any +more trouble.” +</p> +<p> +“Profit by nothing,” grumbled Jerry. “She can’t +change her disposition any more than a cat can +grow feathers or an ostrich whiskers. Row-ena, +Scrapena, Fightena, Quarrelena she is and will be +forever and forever. Let’s not talk about her. She +makes me—I mean I feel somewhat languid whenever +her name is mentioned.” Jerry delivered her +polite emendation with irresistible drollery. “Did +you know that there’s to be a junior basket ball try-out +next Tuesday after school?” +</p> +<p> +“No.” Marjorie’s interest was aroused. “Who +told you? It certainly hasn’t been announced.” +</p> +<p> +“Ellen Seymour told me. She’s going to help +Miss Davis manage the team this year in Marcia +Arnold’s place. I imagine she’ll do most of the +managing. I guess Miss Davis had enough of basket +ball last year. She told Ellen that it took up +too much of her time. She knew, I guess, that the +upper class girls wouldn’t relish her interference. +Ellen says you must be sure to be at the try-out. +She hopes you——” Jerry left off speaking and +looked sheepish. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104'></a>104</span> +</p> +<p> +“Well, why don’t you finish? What does Ellen +wish me to do?” +</p> +<p> +“You’ll find out at the try-out. Now don’t ask +me any more questions about it.” Jerry’s cheerful +grin belied her brusque words. +</p> +<p> +“You’re a very tantalizing person,” smiled Marjorie. +“There goes the second bell. I’ll see you +later.” She scudded away, wondering what it was +that Jerry had stoutly refused to reveal. Evidently, +it must be something of pleasant import, else Jerry +would have frowned rather than smiled. +</p> +<p> +The next day, directly after opening exercises, +Miss Merton dryly read out the official call to the +try-out. It was received by the junior section with +an audible joy which she sternly quenched. Miss +Merton was in even less sympathy with “that rough-and-tumble +game” than she was with the girls who +elected to play it. It was directly due to her that +Miss Davis had lost interest in it. +</p> +<p> +To those intimately interested in making the +junior team, the Tuesday afternoon session seemed +interminable. Eager eyes frequently consulted the +moon-faced study-hall clock, as its hands traveled +imperturbably toward the hour of reprieve. Would +half-past three never come? At ten minutes past +three Muriel Harding’s impatience vented itself in +the writing of a heart-felt complaint to Marjorie. +She wrote: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105'></a>105</span> +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +“This afternoon is one hundred years long. +Darling Miss Merton wishes it was two hundred. +The very idea that we are going to the +try-out gives her pain. She hates herself, but +she hates basket ball worse. If I should invite +her to the try-out she would gobble me up. So +I shall not risk my precious self. You may do +the inviting.” +</p> +<p> +This uncomplimentary tribute to Miss Merton was +whisked successfully down the section and into Marjorie’s +hands. As note-passing was obnoxious to the +crabbed teacher, Muriel had neither addressed nor +signed it. She had craftily whispered her instructions +to the girl ahead of her, who had obligingly +repeated them to the next and so on down the row. +Unfortunately, Miss Merton’s eyes had spied it on +its journey. She instantly left her desk to pounce +upon it at the moment it was delivered into Marjorie’s +keeping. +</p> +<p> +“You may give me that note, Miss Dean,” she +thundered, extending a thin, rigid hand. +</p> +<p> +“Pardon me, Miss Merton, but this note is for +<em>me</em>.” Her fingers closing about it, Marjorie lifted +resolute, brown eyes to the disagreeable face above +her. +</p> +<p> +“Give it to me instantly. You are an impertinent +young woman.” Miss Merton glared down as +though quite ready to take Marjorie by the shoulders +and shake her. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106'></a>106</span> +</p> +<p> +Back in her own seat, Muriel Harding was divided +between admiration for Marjorie and fear +that she would yield to Miss Merton’s demand. Despite +lack of signature, the latter would have little +trouble in identifying the writer were she given +a chance to read the note. Muriel saw trouble looming +darkly on her horizon. +</p> +<p> +“I am sorry you think me impertinent. I do not +mean to be.” The soft voice rang with quiet decision. +“But I cannot give you this note.” Marjorie +calmly put the note in her blouse, and, folding +her hands, awaited the storm. +</p> +<p> +“You will stay here to-night until you give it +to me,” decreed Miss Merton grimly. Beaten for +the time, she stalked back to her desk, quite aware +that she could hardly have imposed a more crushing +penalty. True, her effort to obtain the note had +been fruitless, but one thing was patent: Marjorie +Dean would not be present at the junior basket ball +try-out. +</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XI—AT THE ELEVENTH HOUR</h2> +<p> +Left to herself for a brief respite, Marjorie drew +out the note and read it. An expression of amused +consternation flashed into her eyes as she took in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107'></a>107</span> +its spirit. Knowing the writing to be Muriel’s she +was now glad she had stood her ground. Note writing +was not forbidden in Sanford High and never +had been. Miss Merton alone, of all the teachers, +strenuously opposed it. To be sure, it was not regarded +by them with special favor. Nevertheless, +in the class-rooms no one was ever taken to task for +it unless it seriously interfered with the recitation. +Marjorie did not know Miss Archer’s views on the +subject, but she believed her principal too great-minded +to cavil at such trifles. +</p> +<p> +The instant she had finished reading the note, she +reduced it to unreadable bits, leaving them in plain +sight on her desk. Not by so much as a backward +glance did she betray the writer. Knowing Miss +Merton to be on the alert, she took no chances. +Should the latter send her to Miss Archer, she would +very quickly express herself on the subject. As a +junior she believed that the time for treating her as +a member of the primary grade had long since +passed. +</p> +<p> +It was not until she had effectually blocked all +possibility of the note falling into Miss Merton’s +possession that she remembered the try-out. Her +heart sank as she recalled what a lengthy, lonely stay +in the study hall meant. The try-out would go on +without her. She would lose all chance of obtaining +a place on the junior team. Her changeful face +paled a trifle as she sadly accepted this dire disaster +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108'></a>108</span> +to her hopes. If only Muriel had not written that +note. +</p> +<p> +The first closing bell sent a tremor of despair to +her heavy heart. She wondered how long Miss Merton +would detain her. She had said, “You will +stay here to-night until you give it to me.” Even in +the midst of misfortune the edict took a humorous +turn. She had a vision of herself and Miss Merton +keeping a lonely, all-night vigil in the study hall. +</p> +<p> +At the second bell the long lines of girls began +a decorous filing down the aisles to the great doors. +Marjorie watched them go, vainly pondering on +why, thus far, her junior year had been so filled +with mishaps. A bad beginning sometimes made a +good ending was her only comforting reflection. +She hoped that in her case it would prove true. +</p> +<p> +“Why are you staying, Miss Harding?” rasped +forth Miss Merton when the big room had at last +emptied itself. +</p> +<p> +Marjorie faced about with a start. She had not +reckoned on this. She made a desperate sign to +Muriel to go. Muriel merely shook an obstinate +head. Then she announced bravely, “I wrote that +note to Miss Dean.” +</p> +<p> +“Then you may remain in your seat,” snapped +the frowning teacher. “Miss Dean, do you intend +to give me that note?” +</p> +<p> +“I have destroyed it,” came the calm reply. +</p> +<p> +“You are determined to defy me, I see. Very +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109'></a>109</span> +well, you may tell me the contents of it. I saw you +read it after I had returned to my desk.” +</p> +<p> +“I have nothing to say,” Marjorie replied with +terse obstinacy. +</p> +<p> +“Miss Harding, <em>you</em> may tell me what you +wrote.” Miss Merton suddenly swung her attack +from Marjorie to Muriel. +</p> +<p> +“I will not.” Muriel spoke with hot decision. +“Neither Miss Dean nor I are grammar school children. +I see no reason why we should be treated as +such. I think it very ridiculous, and I will not submit +to it. You may send me to Miss Archer if you +like. I am quite ready to say to her what I have +just said to you.” +</p> +<p> +As Muriel’s challenge of defiance cut the storm-laden +atmosphere, a most unexpected thing happened. +Almost as if the mere mention of her name +had served to bring her to the scene, Miss Archer +walked into the study hall. She had come in time +to catch Muriel’s last sentence, and her quick faculties +had leaped to conclusion. +</p> +<p> +“What is it that you are quite ready to say to +me, Miss Harding?” was her grave interrogation. +</p> +<p> +Miss Merton’s sallow cheeks took on a lively tinge +of red. She was not specially anxious to bring Miss +Archer into the discussion. Had the recipient of the +note been other than Marjorie Dean, she would have +allowed the incident to pass with a caustic rebuke. +But her dislike for the winsome girl was deep-rooted. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110'></a>110</span> +She could never resist the slightest opportunity +to vent it publicly. +</p> +<p> +“I wrote a note to Miss Dean, Miss Archer,” +burst forth Muriel. “Miss Merton asked Miss Dean +for it and she wouldn’t give it to her. So Miss Merton +said she must stay here until she did. Miss +Dean tore the note up. I stayed because I wrote it. +Miss Merton says we must tell her what was in that +note. I won’t do it. Neither will Marjorie. I just +said that I did not think we ought to be treated like +grammar school children. I said, too, that I would +be willing to say so to you, and I have.” +</p> +<p> +Miss Archer’s quizzical gaze traveled from Muriel’s +flushed face to Marjorie’s composed features. +Here was, indeed, a problem in that unknown quantity, +girl nature. Miss Archer was too thoroughly +acquainted with the ways of girls not to comprehend +what lay beneath this out and out defiance of +Miss Merton’s commands. She understood, if Miss +Merton did not, or would not, the rather overdrawn +sense of school-girl honor which prompted the rebellion. +She knew that except in extreme cases, +there was little to be obtained by using force. It +was all too likely to defeat its own object. +</p> +<p> +“The attitude of these two young women toward +me is insufferable.” Miss Merton now took up a +harsh stand. She did not intend the principal should +allow the matter to be passed over lightly. “Miss +Dean, in particular, has been most disrespectful. In +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111'></a>111</span> +fact, ever since she became a pupil of this school she +has derived an especial delight from annoying me.” +</p> +<p> +Miss Archer’s face wore an inscrutable expression +as she listened. Years of association with Miss +Merton had taught her to read between the lines. +Yet she knew she must now proceed with the utmost +diplomacy. As a teacher Miss Merton was entitled +to the respect of her pupils. She had an inner +conviction, however, that the irate woman was piling +injustice upon Marjorie’s shoulders. She herself +was beginning to understand the girl’s motives could +never be classed as unworthy. Young in years, she +possessed already a breadth of mind which Miss +Merton could never hope to attain. +</p> +<p> +“You are entitled to the utmost respect on the part +of your pupils, Miss Merton,” she levelly acknowledged. +“I am sorry to hear bad reports of any of +my pupils. I am sure that Miss Harding and Miss +Dean will rectify the matter with an apology. As +for the note, perhaps it might be wiser to allow the +matter to drop.” +</p> +<p> +“Girls,” she now addressed the belligerents, “it +seems to me that, as long as note-writing has proved +a source of trouble to you, you might better give +up the practice. Let me ask you a question. Was +there any grave and important reason for writing +that note?” +</p> +<p> +Muriel Harding hung her head. “No, Miss Archer,” +came her low answer. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112'></a>112</span> +</p> +<p> +Marjorie’s pale face took on a faint glow of +pink. “It was not necessary,” she admitted. +</p> +<p> +“Very well. You have both agreed that it was +unnecessary. My advice to you is to discontinue the +practice. I must insist that both of you make apology +to Miss Merton for the annoyance you have +caused.” +</p> +<p> +“Miss Merton, I regret that you should have been +annoyed by me.” Marjorie made an immediate and +dignified apology, which was perfectly sincere on her +part. For more reasons than one she deplored the +annoyance. +</p> +<p> +Muriel, however, hesitated a second or two before +committing herself. Suddenly it dawned upon her +that Miss Archer’s demand for apology had a deeper +significance. She thereupon made haste to repeat +Marjorie’s exact words. +</p> +<p> +Miss Merton received both apologetic speeches in +black silence. She was inwardly furious with the +principal, not only for her unexpected intrusion, but +for the lax manner in which she had administered +discipline. At least, Miss Merton considered it distinctly +lax. Still, she knew that it would be in bad +taste to try to overrule the principal’s decision. +“You are dismissed,” she said stiffly. “See to it that +you conduct yourselves properly hereafter.” She +could not resist this one touch of authority. +</p> +<p> +The ex-culprits lost no time in leaving the study +hall behind them. Not a word passed between them +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113'></a>113</span> +until the door of the junior locker room had closed +upon them. Their eyes meeting, they burst into +laughter, discreetly subdued, but most expressive of +their feelings. Each mind held the same thought. +What would Miss Merton have said had she read +the note? +</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XII—A DOUBTFUL VICTORY</h2> +<p> +“Marjorie Dean, you are true blue!” exclaimed +Muriel. “Whatever possessed me to write that awful +note? If Miss Merton had read it—well, you +can guess what would have happened. I shook in +my shoes when I heard her ask you for it.” +</p> +<p> +“I’m glad I didn’t give it to her.” An angry +sparkle leaped into Marjorie’s soft eyes. “She only +made a fuss about it because it was I who had it. +I think Miss Archer understood that. I love her +for it. She treats us always as though we were +young women; not as naughty children. But we +mustn’t stand here. It’s four o’clock now. I am +afraid we won’t have a chance to play. Only about +fifteen or twenty juniors are going to try for the +team. It may be made already.” Marjorie picked +up the bag which contained her basket ball suit and +tennis shoes. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114'></a>114</span> +</p> +<p> +“Let us hustle along then,” urged Muriel. Seizing +her friend by one hand, her luggage in the other, +the two raced for the gymnasium, hoping against +hope. +</p> +<p> +“It’s all over.” Muriel cried out in disappointment +as they entered the great room. +</p> +<p> +“I am afraid so,” faltered Marjorie, as she noted +the group of bloomer-clad girls standing idle at one +end of the gymnasium. Here and there about the +floor were others in uniform. Altogether she +counted eighteen. Ellen Seymour and two other +seniors were seated on the platform, their chairs +drawn together, their attention apparently fixed on +a pad on Ellen’s knee. Spectators had been firmly +but politely denied admission. Ellen had pronounced +them a detriment to the try-out and elected that they +should remain away. +</p> +<p> +“Hello, Marjorie Dean,” joyfully called out Harriet +Delaney. As she hailed Marjorie she ran toward +the two girls. “We thought you were lost to +us forever. Where were you, Muriel? You surely +didn’t have to stay.” +</p> +<p> +“Did you make the team?” was Muriel’s excited +query. +</p> +<p> +“Not yet.” Harriet’s eyes twinkled. “The try-out +hasn’t begun yet.” +</p> +<p> +“Hasn’t begun!” echoed two voices. +</p> +<p> +“No. Ellen was awfully cross about the way +Miss Merton acted, so she said we’d wait for Marjorie. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115'></a>115</span> +Then, when Muriel didn’t appear, she said, +that if neither of you materialized, she would have +the try-out put off until to-morrow. Miss Davis +is so busy with that new system of gymnastics she’s +going to adopt this year that she’s left basket ball to +Ellen. I don’t see how she could help herself, +though. Last year the juniors and seniors ran +their own teams.” +</p> +<p> +“Ellen’s a dear,” exulted Muriel. “We are lucky +to have her for manager. Marjorie and I will be +her grateful slaves for the rest of the year. I wrote +that note; so, naturally, I had to stay and face the +music.” +</p> +<p> +“You did!” It was Harriet who now registered +surprise. “What was in it?” +</p> +<p> +Muriel giggled. She could now afford to laugh. +“Oh, a lot of sweet things about Miss Merton. You +can guess just how sweet they were.” +</p> +<p> +“Goodness!” breathed Harriet. “No wonder +Marjorie wouldn’t give it up. She—why, she’s +gone!” +</p> +<p> +Marjorie had stopped only to greet Harriet. +While Muriel was explaining matters, she slipped +away to the platform where Ellen Seymour sat. +“It was splendid in you, Ellen!” she burst forth, as +she reached the senior’s side. “Thank you, ever so +much.” +</p> +<p> +“Hurrah! Here’s Marjorie.” Ellen sprang up, +her pleasant face breaking into a smile. “I’m so +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116'></a>116</span> +glad you came at last, and so sorry for what happened. +You must tell me how you came out. But +not now. We shall have to hustle to make up for +lost time. I suppose you know Miss Elbert and Miss +Horner. No?” Ellen promptly performed introductions. +</p> +<p> +“Pleased to meet you,” nodded both young +women. Neither looked specially delighted. Miss +Elbert, a small, plump girl with near-sighted, gray +eyes, bowed in reserved fashion. Miss Horner, a +rather pretty brunette, acknowledged the introduction +with languid grace. Marjorie had long known +both by sight. On two different occasions she had +been introduced to Miss Horner. Afterward, on +meeting her in the street, the latter had made no +sign of recognition. +</p> +<p> +“I suppose you are satisfied now, Ellen,” drawled +Miss Horner sweetly. “You are lucky, Miss Dean, +to have Ellen for a champion. She insisted that we +must wait for you.” +</p> +<p> +“I am very grateful to her,” Marjorie made courteous +reply. Had there lurked a touch of sarcasm +in the other’s polite comment? +</p> +<p> +“Miss Merton is altogether too fussy,” remarked +Miss Elbert. Her blunt tone quite belied her reserved +nod. “She tried that with me last year. It +didn’t work, though.” Her air of constraint vanished +in a bright glance, which indicated friendliness. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117'></a>117</span> +</p> +<p> +“You must remember that she has a great deal to +try her,” reminded Miss Horner softly. +</p> +<p> +Again Marjorie thought she sensed hostility. She +laid it to the supposition that Miss Horner was, perhaps, +a trifle peevish at being delayed. Yet she could +not resist the quiet comment, “Miss Merton is also +very trying.” +</p> +<p> +“Of course she is,” agreed Ellen warmly. “You +know it as well as we do, Charlotte Horner. <em>You</em> +have no cause to love her. Just remember how +cranky she was to you during your freshman year.” +</p> +<p> +“That was a long time ago,” shrugged the senior. +“I understand her much better now than then.” +The placid answer held a suspicion of condescending +approval of Miss Merton. +</p> +<p> +“I’m glad someone does,” flung back Ellen with +careless good humor. “Hurry along, Marjorie, and +get into your basket ball suit. I shouldn’t have kept +you talking.” Drawing her aside, she whispered: +“I’d rather see you play center on the team than +any girl I know.” +</p> +<p> +“It seems to me, Ellen,” drawled Charlotte Horner, +as her indolent gaze followed Marjorie across +the floor to the dressing room, “that you are babying +that Miss Dean entirely too much. Someone +told me the other day that she has a bad attack of +swelled head. I must say, I think her self-opinionated. +She answered me very pertly.” +</p> +<p> +“If you mean her remark about Miss Merton, she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118'></a>118</span> +only spoke the truth,” defended Ellen hotly, completely +astonished by this unexpected attack on Marjorie. +“She is not in the least self-opinionated nor +vain. It’s remarkable that she isn’t. She is very +pretty and awfully popular.” +</p> +<p> +“Glad you told me,” murmured the other, lazily +unbelieving. “I know several girls with whom she +is not particularly popular.” +</p> +<p> +To this Ellen made no response. With vexation +at her own stupidity, she now remembered too late +that Charlotte Horner had always been rather +friendly with Mignon La Salle. Remembering only +Charlotte’s undeniable prowess as a basket ball +player, she had asked her to act with herself and +Leila Elbert as one of the three judges at the try-out. +This explained why Charlotte had not been in +favor of postponing the try-out in case Marjorie +were detained indefinitely. Ellen found herself hoping +that personal prejudice would not influence +Charlotte to decry Marjorie’s work on the floor. +</p> +<p> +“I think Miss Dean is very nice.” It was Leila +Elbert who made this announcement. Her reserved +manner had arisen merely from shyness. She was +a quiet, diffident girl, who, beyond an enthusiasm for +basket ball, had mixed little with the social side of +high school. She was an expert player who had +been on the same team with Ellen during her freshman, +sophomore and junior years. Accordingly, +she was eminently fitted to judge the merits of the +respective contestants. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119'></a>119</span> +</p> +<p> +“That’s sweet in you.” Ellen flashed her a grateful +look. It would be two against one in Marjorie’s +favor. +</p> +<p> +Within ten minutes after seeking the dressing +room Marjorie issued from it ready for the fray, +wearing her sophomore basket ball uniform. Running +up to Ellen she announced: “I am ready. So is +Muriel.” In a lower tone she added: “It was dear +in you to wish me well.” Then she trotted over +and joined the contestants, who had gradually collected +in one spot. +</p> +<p> +“All right.” Ellen left the platform and approached +the fruitful material for junior honors. +“Girls,” she began, with an elaborate bow, “behold +your stern manager.” +</p> +<p> +She was interrupted by giggling applause. Cheerful +Ellen Seymour was beloved throughout Sanford +High School. +</p> +<p> +“Much obliged,” she nodded gaily. “As I was +saying when interrupted by your heart-felt appreciation, +<em>I</em> am your manager. This year there will +be no senior team. The seniors have soared to +heights beyond mere basket ball. I had to soar with +them, though I wasn’t in a soaring mood. Since I +can’t play the good old game alone, I’ve decided to +bury my disappointment in managership. Of +course, you know that you can’t all play. So if +you’re not chosen, don’t be disappointed. It’s going +to be an absolutely fair try-out. If you’re +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120'></a>120</span> +chosen, it is because you are a better player than the +girl who isn’t. Now please line up until I count +you over.” +</p> +<p> +It was a nondescript line that whipped itself +promptly into position. There were the five gray-clad +girls who had made up Mignon La Salle’s famous +team. There were also the five black-garbed +players who had comprised Marjorie’s squad. Besides +these were ten new applicants in blue gymnasium +suits who had not been fortunate enough to +make either of the two teams that had striven +against each other in the sophomore year. These +girls had decided to try again, hoping that better +luck would be theirs. +</p> +<p> +Marjorie thrilled with excitement as she cast a +quick glance up and down the line. Every face was +set in determined fashion. It was going to be much +harder than ever before to make the team. +</p> +<p> +Ellen Seymour walked up and down the row of +girls with the air of a general. She was shrewdly +calculating the best plan of action. It would hardly +be fair to try out the black and scarlet girls against +the grays, leaving the other ten of lesser experience +to play against each other. Among the new girls +there was, undoubtedly, some excellent material +which contact with the regular players was sure to +bring out. She, therefore, chose five blues to play +against two grays and three black and scarlet girls. +Mignon and Daisy Griggs represented the grays, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121'></a>121</span> +Marjorie, Susan and Harriet Delaney the black and +scarlet. +</p> +<p> +Clearing the floor of the others, Ellen signaled +the two teams to their places and soon had the ball +in play. It seemed very strange to Marjorie to find +herself once more on the same team with Mignon +La Salle. She was too busy attending to her own +affairs, however, to give it more than a passing +thought. Centering her whole mind on her work +she played with her usual snap and brilliancy. +</p> +<p> +After twenty minutes’ energetic work, the warning +whistle sounded retreat. Then the other ten +girls remaining were ordered to the floor to show +what they could do. When, after the same allowance +of time, they had been called off, the three +judges went into consultation with the result that +ten names were struck from the list Ellen held. +These names Ellen read out, expressing a regret for +the failure of their owners to make good that was in +a measure quite consoling. They left the floor to +their more fortunate sisters apparently with the +best possible grace, considering the disappointment +that was theirs. +</p> +<p> +There were still left Susan, Muriel, Marjorie, +Mignon, Daisy Griggs and Anne Easton of the seasoned +teams. The other were four of the blue-clad +girls who had done surprisingly well. These ten +were again divided into opposing fives and went at +it with a will. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122'></a>122</span> +</p> +<p> +T-r-ill! Ellen’s whistle at last called an end to +the spirited fray. The girls pattered off the playing +floor. Grouped together they breathlessly awaited +the verdict. +</p> +<p> +This time it was longer in coming. Up on the +judge’s stand, Ellen Seymour found herself participating +in the wrangle with Charlotte Horner, +which she had anticipated. But Marjorie was not +alone subject of it. It was Mignon’s basket ball future, +too, that now tottered. Four names had been +struck off the list of ten. It lay between Mignon +and Marjorie Dean as to whom the fifth should be. +</p> +<p> +“Mignon is a better player than this Dean girl,” +sharply argued Charlotte Horner. “But poor Mignon +simply wasn’t up to her usual form to-day.” +</p> +<p> +“But it’s to-day that counts, else why have a try-out?” +protested Ellen. “Marjorie has completely +outplayed her in this last test. I consider Marjorie +the better player at any time. She is reliable. +Mignon isn’t. I insist that Marjorie shall have the +position. I think she’s the best player of the whole +team.” +</p> +<p> +“And <em>I</em> insist that Mignon must have it.” In her +anger Charlotte forgot her usual languid drawl. +</p> +<p> +“It rests with Leila.” Ellen shrugged her shoulders. +“What is your opinion, Leila?” +</p> +<p> +“Miss Dean is the better player,” declared Leila +stolidly. “Anyone can see that.” +</p> +<p> +“Two against one. The ayes have it.” Ellen +drew a firm pencil through Mignon’s name. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123'></a>123</span> +</p> +<p> +And thus Marjorie Dean won a victory over +Mignon La Salle, which was destined to bring her +a great deal of unhappiness. +</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII—UNSEEN; UNKNOWN; UNGUESSED</h2> +<p> +Outside the school building Jerry Macy and Irma +Linton were holding a patient vigil. Not permitted +to witness the try-out they had declared their +intention of waiting across the street for their +friends. Confidently expecting that their wait would +be long, they had set off for Sargent’s directly after +school, there to while away at least a part of the +time. It was twenty minutes after four when they +returned to the school and determinedly perched +themselves upon the top step of the long flight where +they proposed to remain stationed until the try-out +should be over. As ardent fans, they had a lively +curiosity to know as soon as possible the results of +the contest. They were also deeply concerned as +to what had transpired between Marjorie and Miss +Merton. +</p> +<p> +“Good gracious!” grumbled Jerry, as she frowningly +consulted her wrist watch. “When do you +suppose it will be over? It’s half-past five now. +I hope——” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124'></a>124</span> +</p> +<p> +“Hark!” Irma raised a warning hand. “I hear +voices. Here they come at last.” +</p> +<p> +As she spoke the heavy door behind her swung +open. One after another the contestants began issuing +forth to unite into little groups as they passed +down the steps to the street. Jerry and Irma were +now on their feet eagerly watching for their friends. +Jerry’s shrewd power of observation had already +been put to good use. Thus far she glimpsed defeat +in the faces of those who passed. Among them was +Mignon La Salle. Her arm linked in that of Charlotte +Horner, the French girl was carrying on a +low-toned monologue, the very nature of which +could be read in the stormy play of her lowering +features. +</p> +<p> +Jerry gave Irma a significant nudge as Mignon +switched past them without sign of recognition. +Irma nodded slightly to show that she understood +its import. She, too, had guessed that Mignon had +not made the team. +</p> +<p> +“At last!” Jerry sighed relief, as Marjorie +stepped across the threshold, followed by Susan, +Muriel and Daisy Griggs. “What’s the good +word?” She hailed. +</p> +<p> +“We are the real people,” boasted Muriel Harding, +a throbbing note of triumph in her light tones. +“Marjorie, Susan, Daisy and I made the team. The +fifth girl is Rita Talbot. She was the only one of +the blues chosen. Poor Harriet didn’t make it. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125'></a>125</span> +Neither did Esther. Harriet’s been chosen as a sub, +though. So has that queer little green-eyed Warner +girl. She’s such a quiet mouse, I never even +dreamed she could play basket ball. She can, +though.” Muriel rattled off all this, hardly stopping +to take breath. +</p> +<p> +“So dear Miss Merton changed her mind,” burst +forth Jerry irrelevantly. “How long did she keep +you, Marjorie? What did she say?” They had +now progressed as far as the sidewalk and had +halted there to talk. +</p> +<p> +Marjorie entered into brief details, giving Muriel +the lion’s share of credit for her blunt explanation +to Miss Archer. “If Muriel hadn’t spoken so +plainly, Miss Archer might not have seen things in +the right light,” she ended. +</p> +<p> +“Don’t you believe it,” disagreed Jerry. “Miss +Archer knows Miss Merton like a book. It’s a real +comfort to have a principal like her. Say, I’ll bet +Mignon is so mad she can’t see straight. You +should have seen her when she passed us. She was +talking a blue streak to that Miss Horner. She was +one of the judges, wasn’t she?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes.” Marjorie’s face clouded at mention of +the languidly spoken senior. It now occurred to her +that she had not been at fault in believing that Charlotte +Horner disliked her. No doubt Mignon was +the motive for her dislike. Like Ellen, she, too, +tardily recalled that the two had been occasionally +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126'></a>126</span> +seen together last year. It might account also for +the emphatic wagging of heads that had gone on +among the three judges before the final result of the +try-out had been announced. +</p> +<p> +“I suppose you are going to play the sophomores.” +Irma’s soft intonation brought Marjorie out of her +brown study. +</p> +<p> +“Of course.” It was Daisy Griggs who answered. +“They are to have their try-out to-morrow afternoon. +I don’t believe we will be ready to play them +before November. We have a lot of practice ahead +of us. We’ll have to have new suits, too. But we +won’t know until we have a meeting what colors +to choose. We ought to ask the subs what they’d +like. We can’t very well go by the junior colors +this year. They are deep crimson and white, you +know. We couldn’t possibly have white suits with +a crimson J, and crimson suits wouldn’t be pretty, +either.” +</p> +<p> +“<em>I</em> think they <em>would</em>,” put in Muriel Harding +stoutly. “We could have our suits of a little darker +crimson than the class color. They would be stunning +with a white J on the blouse and a wide, rolling +collar of white broadcloth. Besides, crimson is +a victorious color. We’d just have to win. It would +be inspiring.” +</p> +<p> +“It sounds good to me,” approved Susan. +“They’d certainly be different from any we’ve ever +had. We could all put together and buy the cloth. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127'></a>127</span> +Then have them made by one person instead of each +going to our own dressmaker.” +</p> +<p> +“I think that would be nice,” nodded Marjorie. +“But we want to please Daisy, too, so perhaps——” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I don’t mind. Just so they aren’t a glaring +red,” hastily amended Daisy. “I suppose the subs +will want to have new suits, too. We ought to call +a meeting of the team some time this week. That +reminds me, we don’t know yet who is to be captain. +You ought to be, Marjorie. I think Ellen will ask +you.” +</p> +<p> +“No.” Marjorie shook a decided head. “To be +given center is honor enough for me. Girls, I’d +love to have Muriel for captain. She’d be simply +splendid.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, no, not me,” protested Muriel in ungrammatical +confusion. Nevertheless, she flushed with +pleasure at Marjorie’s generous proposal. +</p> +<p> +“That would be fine,” asserted Susan Atwell +heartily. She was not in the least jealous because +Marjorie had not proposed her for the honor. She +had long since learned that Marjorie Dean was incapable +of showing favoritism. She had selected +Muriel strictly with the good of the team in mind. +</p> +<p> +“Let’s ask Ellen if we can’t have Muriel,” said +Daisy Griggs earnestly. +</p> +<p> +“You see three of us are of the same mind,” Marjorie +pointed out with a smile. “I know Rita will +say so, too. But where are she and Harriet?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128'></a>128</span> +</p> +<p> +“Still in the gym, I guess, with Ellen. Harriet +lives next door to Ellen,” reminded Susan. “They’ll +be along presently.” +</p> +<p> +“I can’t wait for them,” Marjorie demurred. +“It’s almost six. Captain will wonder why I’m so +late. Come on, Jerry and Irma,” she called. Jerry +and Irma had wandered a little away from the +group and were deeply engaged in earnest discussion. +“How many of you are going our way?” +</p> +<p> +“I’m going to my aunt’s for dinner,” said Muriel. +“So I’ll say good-bye. Daisy goes my way, too. +See you to-morrow. Come along, Daisy.” +</p> +<p> +Left to themselves, Susan, Marjorie, Irma and +Jerry swung off toward home, four abreast. +</p> +<p> +“See here, Marjorie,” began Jerry. “You want +to look out for Mignon. I told you how mad she +looked when she passed us. Irma saw, too. She’ll +try to do something to get you off the team and +herself on. See if she doesn’t.” +</p> +<p> +“I’m not going to bother my head about her,” +Marjorie made careless reply. “She has never really +hurt anyone she’s tried to hurt since I’ve known her. +With Ellen Seymour managing the teams, we are all +sure of fair play.” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t be too sure,” muttered Jerry. She added +in a louder tone, “Ellen’s not much protection with +Mignon on the job. If she can’t play, she’ll try to +fix it so somebody else can’t. Not you, perhaps. +Anyway, it won’t do any harm for you to keep your +eyes open.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129'></a>129</span> +</p> +<p> +“Don’t croak, Jeremiah.” Marjorie laid a playful +hand on Jerry’s lips. “Didn’t I tell you long +ago that I should not allow Mignon La Salle to +trouble me this year? I am going to keep at a safe +distance from her.” +</p> +<p> +“I hope you stick to that,” was Jerry’s ungracious +retort. Under her breath she added, “but I doubt +it.” +</p> +<p> +Jerry Macy’s well-meant warning was destined, +however, to come back most forcibly to Marjorie +no later than the following morning. As she ran +down the steps of her home and on down the walk +on her way to school, she encountered the postman +at the gate. He handed her two letters, which +she received with a gurgle of girlish delight. On +the top envelope she had glimpsed Mary’s familiar +script. The gurgle changed to a dismayed gasp as +she examined the other. Only too quickly had she +recognized the handwriting. Shoving Mary’s letter +into the pocket of her pretty tan coat, she hastily +opened the other envelope. Her evil genius had +again come to life. A wave of hot resentment swept +her as she unfolded the one sheet of heavy white +paper and read: +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +“<span class='sc'>Miss Dean</span>: +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +“No doubt you think yourself very clever to +have made the junior team. You could never +have done so had partiality not been shown. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130'></a>130</span> +Others at the try-out were much more worthy +of the choice. You believe because you can +dress like a doll and are popular with a few +rattle-brained girls that everyone likes you. +But you are mistaken. A few persons, at least, +know how vain and silly and deceitful you are. +You pretend to hate snobbery, but you are a +snob. Some day <em>everyone</em> will know you for +what you really are. The time is not far off. +Beware. +</p> +<p style='text-align:right; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-right:2em;;'>“<span class='sc'>The Observer.</span>”</p> +<p> +Turning, Marjorie went slowly back to the house +and climbed the stairs to her room. Pausing before +her desk, she opened it. From a pigeon-hole she extracted +another letter. Carefully she compared it +with the one that had come by post. Yes, they must +have both emanated from the same source. Stationery, +writing and signature were unmistakable +proofs. With a sigh she shoved them both into +the pigeon-hole. Who could her mysterious enemy +be? These letters were certainly of the variety she +had heard classed as “poison pen.” +</p> +<p> +Thus far she had flouted the idea of Mignon La +Salle as the writer of them. Now she was forced +to wonder if she had been wrong. Was it possible +that Mignon had lurked outside Miss Archer’s office +on the morning when she had solved the problem +for Rowena Farnham? If this were so, the letter +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131'></a>131</span> +Miss Archer had received might then be accredited +to her, as well as the two now in her desk. Barring +Rowena Farnham, Marjorie knew no one else who +would be likely to engage in such a despicable enterprise. +If Mignon were guilty of this, Jerry +Macy’s warning had not been an idle one. It, therefore, +behooved her, Marjorie Dean, to be on her +guard. Yet how could she guard herself against +a shadow, an enemy unseen; unknown; unguessed? +</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV—A SOLDIER IN EARNEST</h2> +<p> +Absorbed in a vain attempt to find a clue to the +mysterious prophesier of evil, Marjorie forgot Mary +Raymond’s letter until she happened to thrust a +hand into her coat pocket on the way home from +school at noon. Mary’s long, cheery epistle partially +atoned for the hateful sentiments expressed +by the unknown. On her return home in the afternoon, +a second comforter was accorded her in a +letter from Constance Stevens. The day after Marjorie +and Jerry had spent the evening at Gray Gables +Mr. Stevens had gone to New York. Constance +had accompanied him. +</p> +<p> +Since the great change had taken place in the girl’s +life her school days had been more or less broken. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132'></a>132</span> +Still she managed to keep up in her classes despite +frequent short absences from school. It was tacitly +understood, not only by Miss Archer, but also by +Constance’s other teachers, that she intended to +study for a grand opera début as soon as her high +school days were over. The mere possession of so +remarkable a voice as was hers rather set her apart +in some indefinite fashion from her schoolmates. +Where others would have been taken to strict account +for absence, she was allowed an unusual +amount of consideration. Undoubtedly, the fact +that when actually in school she invariably acquitted +herself with credit in her various studies had much +to do with the leniency accorded her. From a very +humble person, she was rapidly becoming a personage +from whom Sanford expected one day to hear +great things. +</p> +<p> +Marjorie Dean felt Constance’s absences more +keenly than anyone else. She had been particularly +lonesome for her friend during this latest one, and +the news that Constance would return to Sanford +and to school on the following week banished for +the time the shadow of the morning’s unpleasant incident. +</p> +<p> +“Constance will be home on Sunday, Captain,” she +caroled gleefully, as she danced about the living +room by way of expressing her jubilation. +</p> +<p> +“I am glad to hear it. You really need the child +to cheer you up. You’ve been looking rather solemn +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133'></a>133</span> +lately, my dear. Aren’t you happy in your school? +Sit down here and give an account of yourself,” +commanded Mrs. Dean with a smile. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes.” The answer was accompanied by a +faint sigh, as Marjorie curled up on the floor beside +her mother. “So far, this has been rather a +queer year, though. Nothing very pleasant has happened +except basket ball. That’s always a joy. Our +team is doing beautifully. We are to play the sophomores +on the Saturday before Thanksgiving. It’s +going to be a real tussle. Ellen Seymour says there +are some great players among the sophs. You’ll +come to the game, Captain?” +</p> +<p> +“I suppose I must. You consider me a loyal fan. +That means I must live up to my reputation. By +the way, Lieutenant, did that girl who made you so +much trouble enter high school? You never told +me.” +</p> +<p> +“You mean Rowena Farnham? Yes; she was allowed +to try another set of examinations. Jerry +Macy said she won the chance by only one vote. +Jerry’s father’s a member of the Board. I wouldn’t +tell anyone else but you, though, about that one +vote. She is a sophomore now. I see her in the +study hall, but we never speak. The girls say she +is quite popular with the sophs. I suppose she’s +trying hard to make up her lost ground.” Marjorie’s +inflection was slightly bored. She felt that +she had small cause for interest in Rowena. She had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134'></a>134</span> +never told her mother of the latter’s attack on herself +and Jerry. She preferred not to think of it, +much less talk of it. To her it had seemed utterly +senseless, as well as cheap. +</p> +<p> +“And how is Mignon La Salle doing?” questioned +Mrs. Dean. “I haven’t heard you mention +her, either. I must say I am very glad that you +and she are not likely to be thrown together again. +Poor little Mary made a bad mistake last year. It +is wonderful that things ever worked out as well as +they did.” Mrs. Dean’s face grew stern as she recalled +the tangle in which Mary’s obstinacy had involved +her daughter. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Mignon has found a friend in Rowena Farnham. +They go together all the time. Jerry says +they will soon fall out. I am sure they are welcome +to chum together, if they choose.” Marjorie shrugged +her shoulders as though desirous of dismissing +both girls from her thoughts. +</p> +<p> +“Jerry is quite likely to be a true prophet,” commented +Mrs. Dean. “She is a very wise girl, but decidedly +slangy. I cannot understand why a girl +brought up in her surroundings should be so thoroughly +addicted to slang.” +</p> +<p> +“She’s trying awfully hard not to use it.” Recalling +Jerry’s recent efforts to speak more elegant +English, Marjorie laughed outright. “She’s so +funny, Captain. If any other girl I know used slang +as she does, I wouldn’t like it. But Jerry! Well, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135'></a>135</span> +she’s different. Next to Connie and Mary I love +her best of all my friends. I don’t know what I’d +do without her.” +</p> +<p> +“She is a very fine girl, in spite of her brusque +ways,” praised Mrs. Dean. “General is fond of +her, too.” She added this little tribute lest Marjorie +might feel that she had been unduly critical. +She understood the fact that Marjorie’s friends +were sacred to her and on that account rarely found +fault with them. Marjorie could be trusted to +choose her associates wisely. Those to whom her +sympathies went out usually proved themselves +worthy of her regard. Motherly anxiety alone had +prompted Mrs. Dean to draw her daughter out with +a view toward learning the cause of Marjorie’s recent +air of wistful preoccupation. Daily it had become +more noticeable. If a repetition of last year’s +sorrows threatened her only child, Mrs. Dean did +not propose to be kept in the dark until it became +well-nigh impossible to adjust matters. +</p> +<p> +Secretly Marjorie was aware of this anxiety on +her mother’s part. She felt that she ought to show +her Captain the sinister letters she had received, yet +she was loath to do so. Her mother’s inquiry +concerning Mignon had caused her to reflect uneasily +that now if ever was the moment for unburdening +her mind. “Captain,” she began, “you know +that something is bothering me, don’t you?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes. I have been hoping you would tell me.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136'></a>136</span> +Mrs. Dean laid an encouraging hand on the drooping, +brown head against her knee. +</p> +<p> +“Wait a minute.” Imbued with a desperate energy, +Marjorie sprang to her feet and ran from +the room. She soon returned, the disturbing letters +clutched tightly in one hand. “I wish you to +read these,” she said. Tendering them to her +mother, she drew up a chair opposite Mrs. Dean and +sat down. +</p> +<p> +Silence hung over the cheerful room while Mrs. +Dean acquainted herself with the cause of Marjorie’s +perturbation. Contempt filled her voice as she +finally said: “A most despicable bit of work, Lieutenant. +The writer had good reason to withhold +her true name. So this explains the solemn face +you have been wearing of late. I wouldn’t take it +very deeply to heart, my dear. Whoever wrote +these letters must possess a most cowardly nature.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s just what I think,” nodded Marjorie. +“You see it really started with the letter Miss Archer +received. You know, the one about the algebra +problem. The only person I can really suspect +of writing any of them is Mignon. But she’s not +this sort of coward. Besides, I don’t believe she’d +write just this kind of letter. What sort of person +do you think would, Captain?” +</p> +<p> +Before answering, Mrs. Dean thoughtfully reread +both letters. “It is hard to say,” she mused. +“It looks to me as though the writer of them might +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137'></a>137</span> +have been prompted by jealousy. The second one +in particular is full of jealous spite. I suppose you +don’t care to let Miss Archer see them.” +</p> +<p> +“No.” Marjorie shook a vehement head. “I’d +rather worry through without that. Perhaps there +won’t be any more of them. I hope not. Anyway, +I’m glad I told you about them. If another does +come, I can bring it to you and not feel so bad over +it as if I had to think things out alone. Even if I +knew this very minute who wrote them, I don’t +know what I’d do about it. It would depend upon +who the girl was, whether or not I’d say anything +to her. It’s all very mysterious and aggravating, +isn’t it?” she added wistfully. +</p> +<p> +“It’s far worse than that.” Mrs. Dean’s lips set +in a displeased line. “Sanford High School appears +to harbor some very peculiar girls. I can’t +imagine any such thing happening to you at Franklin +High. I don’t like it at all. If the rest of your +junior year is going to be like this, you might better +go away to a good preparatory school.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Captain, don’t say that!” Marjorie cried out +in distress. “I couldn’t bear to leave you and General +and Sanford High. I’d be terribly unhappy +away from home. Please say you didn’t really mean +that.” Tears lurked in her pleading tones. +</p> +<p> +“Now, now, Lieutenant,” came the soothing reply, +“don’t be so ready to run out to meet calamity. +I only suggested your going away as a means of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138'></a>138</span> +taking you out of these pits you seem always innocently +to be tumbling into. You know that General +and I could hardly get along without our girl. +It is of your welfare I am thinking.” +</p> +<p> +Marjorie slipped to her mother’s side and wound +coaxing arms about her. “I was afraid this would +hurt you. That’s why I hated to tell you. Don’t +worry, Captain. Everything will come out all right. +It always has, you know. So long as I keep a clear +conscience, nothing can really hurt me. I hope I’m +too good a soldier to be frightened, just because +I’ve been fired upon by an unseen enemy. If I ran +away now I’d be a deserter, and a deserter’s a disgrace +to an army. So you see there’s only one thing +to do; stand by and stick fast to my colors. I’ve got +to be a soldier in earnest.” +</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XV—AN UNWILLING FOLLOWER</h2> +<p> +Marjorie’s confidential talk with her Captain +brought to her a renewal of faith in herself, which +carried her along serenely through various small difficulties +which continually sprang up in her junior +path. One of them was Miss Merton, who seemed +always on the watch for an opportunity to belittle +the girl she so detested. Still another was the hostile +interest Mignon La Salle had again begun to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139'></a>139</span> +take in her. Hardly a day passed without an angry +recital on Jerry’s part of something she had heard +against Marjorie, which had originally come from +Mignon or Rowena Farnham. Mignon’s ally, Charlotte +Horner, was an equal source for provocation. +Although she had no special right to do so, she often +dropped in on junior basket ball practice merely +to find food for adverse criticism of Marjorie. She +watched the latter with a hawk-like eye, only to +go forth and make capital of any small imperfection +in Marjorie’s playing, which she saw or fancied +she saw. +</p> +<p> +The fact that Rowena Farnham was a member of +the sophomore team did not add to Marjorie’s happiness. +She had no wish to come into such close +contact with her, which the approaching games between +the two teams would necessitate. From Jerry, +the indefatigable news-gatherer, she had learned that +Rowena was a skilful, but rather rough player. +Knowing her to be utterly without scruple, Marjorie +had small reason to believe she could be trusted to +play an absolutely fair game against her opponents. +Rowena was already becoming an insolent power +in the sophomore class. Her extreme audacity, +coupled with her good looks and fine clothes, brought +her a certain amount of prestige in Sanford High +School. She possessed to a marked degree that impudent +quality of daring, which is so peculiarly fascinating +to school girls. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140'></a>140</span> +</p> +<p> +Although she was not sincerely liked she was admired +and feared. She had a fund of clever sayings +at her command, which gave her a reputation for +brilliancy. The frequent reproof of her teachers +rolled off her like water from a duck’s back. She +made public sport of whomever she pleased, whenever +it pleased her to do so, with a conscienceless +air of good humor that rendered her a dangerous +foe. She never hesitated to forge her way to whatever +she wanted, in a hail-fellow-well-met manner +which changed like a flash to insolence with the +slightest opposition offered. She was a bully of the +first water, but with the glamor of her newness still +upon her, the worst side of her nature was yet to +be revealed to many. +</p> +<p> +Marjorie Dean and Jerry Macy, at least, entertained +no illusions concerning her. Neither did +Mignon La Salle. For once in her life, Mignon was +beginning to find herself completely overshadowed +by a nature far more hatefully mischievous than her +own. True she was Rowena’s most intimate friend. +Yet there were times when she inwardly regretted +having rushed blindly into such a friendship. Striving +ever to rule, now she was invariably overruled. +Instead of being leader, she became follower. Rowena +criticized, satirized and domineered over her, +all in the name of friendship. Had she been anyone +else, Mignon would not have borne long with +her bullying. She would have speedily put an end +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141'></a>141</span> +to their association. Rowena, however, was one not +thus easily to be dropped. In Mignon she glimpsed +powers for mischief-making only secondary to her +own. She preferred, therefore, to cling to her and +was clever enough never to allow Mignon’s flashes +of resentment against her high-handedness to mature +into open rebellion. Those who knew the French +girl for exactly what she was agreed that Mignon +had at last met her match. They also agreed that a +taste of her own medicine would no doubt do her +a great deal of good. +</p> +<p> +The approach of Thanksgiving also brought with +it a stir of excitement for the coming basket ball +game, the first to be played in a series of four, which +were scheduled to take place at intervals in the +school year. The sophomore team had already +played the freshman and given them a complete +whitewashing. Now they were clamoring to meet +the juniors and repeat their victory. The junior +team had attended the freshman-sophomore game in +a body, thereby realizing to the full the strength of +their opponents. Reluctantly, they were forced to +admit the brilliancy of Rowena Farnham as a player. +She knew the game and she went into it with a dash +and vigor that marked her as a powerful adversary. +Naturally, it won her an admiration which she determined +should grow and deepen with each fresh +achievement. +</p> +<p> +Her doughty deeds on the floor of contest merely +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142'></a>142</span> +imbued the junior team with stronger resolution to +win the coming game. They practised with stubborn +energy, sedulously striving to overcome whatever +they knew to be their weak points. Though manager +of all the teams, Ellen Seymour’s heart was secretly +with them. This they felt rather than knew. +Outwardly, Ellen was impartial. She made them +no show of favoritism, but they divined that she +would rejoice to see them win. There was no doubt +of the smoothness of their team work. Having +played basket ball on the freshman and sophomore +teams, Marjorie Dean herself knew that the squad +of which she was now a member excelled any other +of past experience. Fairly confident that it could +hold its own, she looked impatiently forward to the +hour of action. +</p> +<p> +To set one’s heart too steadfastly on a particular +thing, seems sometimes to court disappointment. +On the Thursday before the game an unexpected +state of affairs came to pass. It started with a notice +on the bulletin board requesting the presence of +the junior team in the gymnasium at four o’clock +that afternoon. It was signed “Ellen Seymour, +Manager.” Naturally, the juniors thought little of +it. They were accustomed to such notices. Ellen, +no doubt, had some special communication to make +that had to do with them. But when five minutes +after four saw them gathered in the gymnasium to +meet their manager, her sober face warned them +that the unusual was afoot. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143'></a>143</span> +</p> +<p> +“Girls, I have something to ask of you which +you may not wish to do. I am not going to urge +you to do it. You are free to choose your own +course. As it especially concerns you, yours is the +right to decide. Two girls of the sophomore team +are ill. Martha Tyrell has come down with tonsilitis, +and Nellie Simmons is threatened with pneumonia. +Both are in bed. They can’t possibly play +on Saturday. The sophs are awfully cut up about +it. They wouldn’t mind using one sub, but two, they +say, is one too many. They have asked me to ask +you if you are willing to postpone the game until +these girls are well again.” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t see why we should,” objected Captain +Muriel Harding. “I don’t believe they’d do the +same for us. Of what use are subs, if not to replace +absent players?” +</p> +<p> +“That’s what I think,” put in Daisy Griggs. “It’s +too provoking. Everyone is looking forward to the +game. If we don’t play we’ll disappoint a whole lot +of people. It’s very nervy in the sophs to ask us +to do such a thing. Besides, we are crazy to wear +our new suits.” +</p> +<p> +Ellen smiled quizzically. “Remember, you are +to do as you please about it,” was all she said, betraying +neither pleasure or displeasure at the ready +protests. +</p> +<p> +“I suppose the sophomores will think us awfully +mean if we don’t do as they ask,” ventured Rita +Talbot. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144'></a>144</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, let them think,” declared Susan Atwell impatiently. +“It’s the first time I ever heard of such +a thing. They must be terribly afraid we’ll beat +them.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s just the point.” At this juncture Marjorie +broke into the discussion. “If we insist on +playing and win, they might say we won because +we had them at a disadvantage. That wouldn’t be +much of a victory, would it?” +</p> +<p> +“That’s so.” Muriel reluctantly admitted the +force of Marjorie’s argument. “I know at least +one of them who would say just that.” +</p> +<p> +“Mustn’t be personal,” gently chided Ellen. +Nevertheless, there was a twinkle in her blue eyes. +The sophomore who had come to her had insinuated +what Marjorie had voiced. “I’ll give you ten minutes +to talk it over. I promised to let the sophomores +know to-night. The girl who came to me is +waiting in the senior locker room for your answer.” +</p> +<p> +“I’m ready to decide now,” asserted Marjorie. +“For my part I’m willing to postpone the game.” +</p> +<p> +“We might as well,” conceded Captain Muriel +ruefully. Marjorie’s point had gone home. “If +we win we want it to be a sweeping victory.” +</p> +<p> +One by one the three other interested parties +agreed that it seemed best to yield gracefully to the +plea. +</p> +<p> +“Now that you’ve all spoken I’m going to tell you +my opinion,” announced Ellen. “I am glad that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145'></a>145</span> +you are willing to do this. It becomes you as juniors. +No one can say that you have been anything +but strictly generous. You deserve a crown of victory +for being so nice about this.” +</p> +<p> +Ellen’s conclusion brought a smile to five faces. +Her remark might be construed as a declaration of +favor toward them. +</p> +<p> +“I believe you’d love to see us win the whole four +games, Ellen Seymour,” was Muriel’s frank comment. +</p> +<p> +“As your august manager, my lips are sealed,” +Ellen retorted laughingly. “Now I must leave you +and put an anxious sophomore out of her misery. +While you are waiting for the sick to get well you +can put in some more practice.” With this injunction +she left them. +</p> +<p> +Once out of the gymnasium, her smile vanished. +The anxious sophomore was Rowena Farnham. Ellen +cherished small liking for this arrogant, self-centered +young person whose request had been more +in the nature of a command. Personally, she had +not favored putting off the game. Had illness befallen +a member or members of any team on which +she had formerly played, no such favor would have +been asked. Nothing short of incapacitation of the +whole squad would have brought forth a stay in +activities. Yet as manager she was obliged to be +strictly impersonal. True, she might have exercised +her authority and herself made the decision. But +she had deemed the other way wisest. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146'></a>146</span> +</p> +<p> +On entering the senior locker room she was still +more annoyed to find Mignon La Salle with Rowena. +If Ellen disliked the latter, she had less +love for the tricky French girl. “Birds of a feather,” +she mentally styled them as she coldly bowed to +Mignon. Her chilly recognition was not returned. +Mignon had not forgiven her for the try-out. +</p> +<p> +“Well, what’s the verdict?” inquired Rowena, satirically +pleasant. Her manner toward dignified +Ellen verged on insolence. +</p> +<p> +“The junior team are willing to postpone the +game,” informed Ellen briefly. She intended the +interview to be a short one. +</p> +<p> +“They know on which side their bread is buttered,” +laughed the other girl. “I suppose they +weren’t specially delighted. Did they make much +fuss before they gave in?” +</p> +<p> +“As I have delivered my message, I will say +‘good afternoon,’” Ellen returned stiffly. +</p> +<p> +“Don’t be in too much of a hurry,” drawled Rowena. +“When I ask a question, I expect an answer.” +</p> +<p> +“Good afternoon.” Ellen wheeled and walked +calmly from the locker room. Rowena’s expectations +were a matter of indifference to the disgusted +manager. She, at least, was not to be bullied. +</p> +<p> +Mignon La Salle laughed unpleasantly. “You +were foolish to waste your breath on her.” She +wagged her black head in the direction of the door, +which had just closed behind Ellen. “You didn’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147'></a>147</span> +impress her <em>that</em> much.” She snapped her fingers +significantly. +</p> +<p> +Smarting under the dignified snubbing Ellen had +administered, Rowena hailed Mignon as an escape +valve. “You keep your remarks to yourself,” she +blustered. “How dare you stand there laughing and +snapping your fingers? No wonder people say +you’re two-faced and tricky. You’re so deceitful +you don’t know your own mind. One minute you +come whining to me about this Seymour snip, the +next you take sides with her.” +</p> +<p> +“I wasn’t standing up for her and you know it,” +muttered Mignon. As always, Rowena’s brutally +expressed opinion of herself had a vastly chastening +effect on the designing French girl. Rowena +never minced matters. She delivered her remarks +straight from the shoulder, indifferent to whether +they pleased or displeased. Mignon’s disregard for +sincerity and honor suited her admirably. She was +equally devoid of these virtues. Mignon made an +excellent confederate. Still, she had to be kept in +her place. Her very love of subtle intrigue made +plain speaking abhorrent to her. On occasions when +Rowena mercilessly held before her the mirror of +truth, she invariably retired in confusion. At the +same time she entertained a wholesome respect for +the one who thus dared to do it. This explained +to a great extent the strong influence which Rowena +exerted over her. She was not happy in this +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148'></a>148</span> +new friendship. More than once she had meditated +ending it. Fear of the other’s furious retaliation +was a signal preventative. Rowena, as a friend, was +greatly to be preferred to Rowena as an enemy. +</p> +<p> +As she sulkily viewed the Titian-haired tyrant, +who knew her too well for her own peace of mind, +she wondered why she had not flung back taunt for +taunt. Perhaps Rowena made a shrewd guess regarding +her thoughts. Adopting a milder tone she +said brusquely: “Oh, quit pouting and come along. +None of these stupid girls are worth quarreling over. +I suppose that Marjorie Dean, the big baby, told +Miss Seymour something hateful about me. That’s +the reason she acted so frosty.” +</p> +<p> +At the mere mention of Marjorie’s name Mignon’s +elfish face grew dark. She and Rowena had +at least one bond in common, they both despised +Marjorie Dean. Mignon reflected that no scheme +she had devised for humbling the former had ever +borne lasting fruit. Rowena might succeed where +she had failed. Rowena had sworn reprisal for the +affair of the algebra problem. Undoubtedly, she +would seize upon the first opportunity for retaliation. +With such a glorious prospect ahead of her, +Mignon craftily decided to stick to Rowena and +share in her triumph. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149'></a>149</span>CHAPTER XVI—A TINY CLUE</h2> +<p> +The end of the week following Thanksgiving +brought the two temporarily disabled sophomore +basket ball players back to school. The day after +their return a notice appeared on the bulletin board +stating that the junior-sophomore game would be +played on the next Saturday afternoon. From all +sides it received profound approbation and the recent +postponement of the contest served to give it +greater importance. The sophomore team had been +highly delighted with the respite, and gratefully accorded +the credit to Rowena Farnham, who reveled +in her sudden advance in popularity. +</p> +<p> +The juniors had little to say to the world at large. +Among themselves they said a great deal. One and +all they agreed that the victory of the coming game +must be theirs. They yearned to show the public +that in postponing the game they had merely postponed +the glory of winning it. Though they knew +the strength of the opposing team, they confidently +believed themselves to be even stronger. How it +happened, none of them were quite able to explain, +but when the fateful hour of conflict arrived the victor’s +crown was wrested from them. A score of +18-16 in favor of the sophomores sent them off the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150'></a>150</span> +field of defeat, crestfallen but remarkably good-natured, +considering the circumstances. +</p> +<p> +Behind the closed door of their dressing room, +with the jubilant shouts of the sophomores still +ringing in their ears, they proceeded to take stock +of themselves and their triumphant opponents. +</p> +<p> +“There is no use in talking, that Rowena Farnham +is a wonderful player,” was Muriel Harding’s +rueful admission. “She could almost have won the +game playing alone against us.” +</p> +<p> +“She’s a very rough player,” cried Daisy Griggs. +“She tears about the floor like a wild Indian. She +gave me two or three awful bumps.” +</p> +<p> +“Still, you can’t say she did anything that one +could make a fuss about,” said Rita Talbot slowly. +“I guess she’s too clever for that.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s just it,” chimed in Susan Atwell crossly. +“She’s as sharp as a needle. She goes just far +enough to get what she wants without getting into +trouble by it. Anyway, they didn’t win much of a +victory. If that last throw of Marjorie’s hadn’t +missed the basket we’d have tied the score. It’s a +pity the game ended right there. Three or four minutes +more were all we needed.” +</p> +<p> +“I was sure I’d make it,” declared Marjorie rather +mournfully, “but a little before, in that big rush, +I was shoved forward by someone and nearly fell. +I made a slide but didn’t quite touch the floor. All +my weight was on my right arm and I felt it afterward +when I threw the ball.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151'></a>151</span> +</p> +<p> +“Who shoved you forward? That’s what I’d like +to know,” came suspiciously from Susan. “If——” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, it wasn’t anyone’s fault,” Marjorie hastened +to assure her. “It was just one of those provoking +things that have to happen.” +</p> +<p> +“Listen to those shrieks of joy,” grumbled Muriel, +as a fresh clamor began out in the gymnasium. +“Oh, why didn’t we beat them?” +</p> +<p> +“Never mind,” consoled Marjorie. “There’d be +just as much noise if we had won. You can’t blame +them. Next time it will be our turn. We’ve still +three more chances. Now that we’ve played the +sophs once, we’ll know better what to do when we +play them again. We really ought to go out there +and congratulate them. Then they would know that +we weren’t jealous of them.” +</p> +<p> +“I’d just as soon congratulate a big, striped tiger +as that Rowena Farnham. She makes me think of +one. She has that cruel, tigerish way about her. +Ugh! I can’t endure that girl.” Muriel Harding +made a gesture of abhorrence. +</p> +<p> +“Come in,” called Marjorie as four loud knocks +beat upon the door. “It’s Jerry, Connie and Irma,” +she explained, as the door opened to admit the trio. +</p> +<p> +“Better luck next time,” cheerfully saluted Jerry +Macy. “You girls played a bang-up, I mean, a splendid +game. I was sure you’d tie that score. You +had a slight accident, didn’t you, Marjorie?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes. Did you notice it?” Marjorie glanced curiously +at Jerry’s imperturbable face. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152'></a>152</span> +</p> +<p> +“I always notice everything,” retorted Jerry. “I +hope——” +</p> +<p> +Marjorie flashed her a warning look. “It wasn’t +anything that could be avoided,” she answered with +a finality that Jerry understood, if no one else did. +“I move that we go down to Sargent’s and celebrate +our defeat,” she quickly added. “Have a seat, girls. +It won’t take us long to get into our everyday +clothes.” +</p> +<p> +“Such a shame,” bewailed Daisy Griggs. “After +we’ve gone to the trouble of having these stunning +suits made, then we have to be robbed of a chance +to parade around the gym as winners. Anyway, +they’re a whole lot prettier than the sophs’ suits. I +didn’t like that dark green and blue they had as well +as ours.” +</p> +<p> +“They stuck to the sophomore colors, though,” +reminded Rita. “It’s a wonder that Rowena Farnham +didn’t appear in some wonderful creation that +had nothing to do with class colors. It would be +just like her.” +</p> +<p> +Despite their regret over losing the game, the defeated +team, accompanied by Jerry, Constance, Irma +and Harriet Delaney, who afterwards dropped in +upon them, set off for the all-consoling Sargent’s in +fairly good humor, there to spend not only a talkative +session, but their pocket money as well. +</p> +<p> +It was not until Jerry, Constance and Marjorie +had reluctantly torn themselves from their friends to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153'></a>153</span> +stroll homeward through the crisp December air that +Jerry unburdened herself with gusto. +</p> +<p> +“Marjorie Dean,” she began impetuously, “do +you or don’t you know why you nearly fell down in +that rush?” +</p> +<p> +“I know, of course,” nodded Marjorie. “Someone +swept me forward and I almost lost my balance. +It’s happened to me before. What is it that you are +trying to tell me, Jerry?” +</p> +<p> +“That someone was Row-ena,” stated Jerry +briefly. “Isn’t that so, Connie?” +</p> +<p> +“It looked that way,” Connie admitted. “I +thought she played very roughly all through the +game.” +</p> +<p> +“If it were she, I don’t believe she did it purposely,” +responded Marjorie. “Even if she did, I’m +not going to worry about it. I rather expected she +might. Mignon used to do that sort of thing. You +remember what a time we had about it last year. +But her team and ours were concerned in it. That’s +why I took it up. As it was only I to whom it happened +this time, I shall say nothing. I don’t wish +to start trouble over basket ball this year. If I spoke +of it to Ellen she would take it up. You know what +Rowena Farnham would say. She’d declare it was +simply a case of spite on my part. That I was using +it only as an excuse for not being able to throw that +last ball to basket. Then she’d go around and tell +others that we were whining because we were beaten +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154'></a>154</span> +in a fair fight. I might better say nothing at all. +The only thing for us to do is to keep our own counsel +and win the next game.” +</p> +<p> +“I guess your head is level,” was Jerry’s gloomy +admission. She was as much distressed over their +defeat as were the juniors themselves. +</p> +<p> +“Marjorie’s head is <em>always</em> level,” smiled Constance +Stevens. “I am almost certain that you girls +will win the next game. Luck just happened to be +with the sophomores to-day. I don’t think they +work together as well as you. Miss Farnham is a +much better player than the others. Still, I imagine +that she might not always do so well as she did in +this game. If she saw that things were going +against her, she would be quite likely to get furiously +angry and lose her head.” Quiet Constance had been +making a close study of Rowena during the game. +Raised in the hard school of experience, she had +considerable insight into character. She seldom criticized +openly, but when she did, her opinions were +received with respect. +</p> +<p> +“Your head’s on the same level plane with Marjorie’s, +Connie,” agreed Jerry. “I think, too, that +Rowena Farnham would be apt to make blunders if +she got good and mad. Speaking of getting mad +reminds me that Lucy Warner is pouting about +those suits of ours. She told Harriet to-day that +she thought they were simply hideous. Harriet said +that she wouldn’t go in with you girls when you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155'></a>155</span> +ordered them. She considered them a waste of +money. Said if she had one, she’d never get a +chance to wear it. Pleasant young person, isn’t +she?” +</p> +<p> +“Perhaps she couldn’t afford to have one,” remarked +Constance thoughtfully. “You know her +mother is a widow and supports the two of them +by doing plain sewing. I imagine they must be quite +poor. They live in a tiny house on Radcliffe Street, +and Lucy never goes to even the high school parties, +or to Sargent’s, or any place that costs money. +She is a queer little thing. I’ve tried ever so many +times to be nice to her, but she always snubs me. +Maybe she thinks I’m trying to patronize her. I +can’t help feeling sorry for her. You see I know so +well what it means to be very poor—and proud,” +ended Constance, flushing. +</p> +<p> +“She’s a born grouch,” asserted Jerry. “She’s +been one ever since I’ve known her. Even in grammar +school she was like that. She’s always had a +fixed idea that because she’s poor everyone looks +down on her. It’s too bad. She’s very bright in +her studies, and she’d be quite pretty if she didn’t go +around all the time looking ready to bite.” +</p> +<p> +“Isn’t it funny?” mused Marjorie. “I’ve never +noticed her particularly or thought much about her +until she made the team as a sub. Since then I’ve +tried several times to talk to her. Each time she has +acted as though she didn’t like to have me speak to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156'></a>156</span> +her. I thought maybe she might be a friend of Mignon’s. +But I suppose it’s just because she feels so +ashamed of being poor. As if that mattered. We +ought to try to make her think differently. She must +be terribly unhappy.” +</p> +<p> +“I doubt it,” contradicted Jerry. “Some people +enjoy being miserable. Probably she’s one of that +sort. As I said before, ‘it’s too bad.’ Still, one +doesn’t care to get down on one’s knees to somebody, +just because that somebody hates herself. She +can’t expect people are going to like her if she keeps +them a mile away from her.” +</p> +<p> +“You are both right,” commented Constance. +“She ought to be made to understand that being +poor isn’t a crime. But you can’t force that into +her head. The only way to do is to wait until a +chance comes to prove it to her. We must watch +for the psychological moment.” Her droll utterance +of the last words set her listeners to giggling. Miss +Merton was prone to dwell upon that same marvelous +psychological moment. +</p> +<p> +That evening, as Marjorie diligently studied her +lessons, the queer, green-eyed little junior again invaded +her thoughts. A vision rose of her thin, white +face with its pointed chin, sensitive, close-lipped +mouth, and wide eyes of bluish-green that frequently +changed to a decided green. What a curious, secretive +face she had. Marjorie wondered how she +had happened to pass by so lightly such a baffling +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157'></a>157</span> +personality. She charitably determined to make up +for it by learning to know the true Lucy Warner. +She upbraided herself severely for having been so +selfish. Absorbed in her own friends, she had neglected +to think of how much there was to be done to +make the outsiders happy. +</p> +<p> +Entering the study hall on Monday morning she +cast a swift glance toward Lucy’s desk. She was +rather surprised to note that the blue-green eyes had +come to rest on her at the same instant. Marjorie +smiled and nodded pleasantly. The other girl only +continued to stare fixedly at her, but made no answering +sign. Forewarned, Marjorie was not specially +concerned over this plain snub. She merely +smiled to herself and decided that the psychological +moment had evidently not yet arrived. +</p> +<p> +Slipping into her seat she was about to slide her +books into place on the shelf under her desk, when +one hand came into contact with something that +made her color rise. She drew a sharp breath as +she brought it to light. So the Observer was at +work again! With a sudden, swift movement of +her arm she shoved her find back to cover. Casting +a startled look about the study hall, she wondered if +whoever had placed it there were now watching her. +Strangely enough, the only pair of eyes she caught +fastened upon her belonged to Mignon La Salle. In +them was a light of brooding scorn, which plainly +expressed her opinion of Marjorie. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158'></a>158</span> +</p> +<p> +“Could Mignon be the mysterious Observer?” was +again the question that assailed Marjorie’s mind. +She longed to read the letter, but her pride whispered, +“not now.” She would save it until school +was over for the day. She and Captain would read +it together in the living room. +</p> +<p> +It was a long, weary day for the impatient little +girl. At noon she carried the dread missive home +with her, gravely intrusting it to her Captain’s keeping. +“It’s another stab from the Observer,” she explained +soberly. “I haven’t opened it. We will read +it together when I come home this afternoon. I +don’t care to read it now.” +</p> +<p> +She returned home that afternoon to find her +mother entertaining callers. Despite her feverish +impatience to have the thing over, she was her usual +charming self to her mother’s friends. Nevertheless, +she sighed with relief when she saw them depart. +Seating herself on the davenport she leaned +wearily against its cushioned back. The suspense +of not knowing had told severely upon her. +</p> +<p> +“Now, Lieutenant, I think we are ready,” said +Mrs. Dean cheerily. Taking the letter from a +drawer of the library table, she sat down beside Marjorie +and tore open the envelope. Her head against +her Captain’s shoulder, Marjorie’s eyes followed the +Observer’s latest triumph in letter writing: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159'></a>159</span> +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +“<span class='sc'>Miss Dean</span>: +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +“Last Saturday showed very plainly that you +could not play basket ball. I knew this long +ago. Several others must now know it. It +would serve you right if you were asked to resign +from the team. If you had been thinking +less about yourself and more about the game, +you might have tied the score and not disgraced +the juniors. You are a menace to the team and +ought to be removed from it. As I am not +alone in this opinion, I imagine and sincerely +hope that you will soon receive your dismissal. +If you had any honor in you, you would resign +without waiting to be asked. But remember +that a coward is soon worsted in the fight. Prepare +to meet the inevitable. +</p> +<p style='text-align:right; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-right:2em;;'>“<span class='sc'>The Observer</span>.”</p> +<p> +Without speaking, Marjorie turned again to the +first page of the letter, re-reading thoughtfully the +entire communication. “This letter tells me something +which the others didn’t,” she said. +</p> +<p> +“It tells me that it is high time to stop such nonsense.” +Mrs. Dean’s tones conveyed righteous indignation. +“The whole thing is simply outrageous.” +</p> +<p> +“It can’t be stopped until we know who is writing +these letters,” reminded Marjorie. “But I think I +have a tiny clue. That sentence about disgracing the +juniors would make it seem that a junior wrote +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160'></a>160</span> +them. No one would mention it who wasn’t a junior. +I’ve tried not to believe it, but now I am almost +certain that Mignon wrote them. She would like +more than anyone else to see me lose my place on +the team. Yes, Mignon and the Observer must be +very closely related.” +</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII—IN TIME OF NEED</h2> +<p> +Three days later Marjorie’s theory seemed destined +to prove itself correct. Ellen Seymour came +to her, wrath in her eye. “See here, Marjorie,” she +burst forth impulsively, “if Miss Davis sends for +you to meet her in the gym after school, let me +know. I’m going there with you. Yesterday while +you girls were at practice she stood there watching +you. Do you remember?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes. I noticed her. She stared at me so hard +she made me nervous and I played badly. She has +always had that effect on me. Last year when she +managed the team she was fond of watching me. +She used to criticize my playing, too, and call out +one thing to me just when I knew I ought to do +another. She was awfully fussy. I hope she isn’t +going to begin it again this year. I thought she +had left everything to you.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161'></a>161</span> +</p> +<p> +“So did I,” retorted Ellen grimly. “It seems she +hasn’t. Someone, you can guess who, went to her +after the game and said something about your playing. +She came to me and said: ‘I understand there +is a great deal of dissatisfaction on the part of the +juniors over Miss Dean’s being on the junior team.’ +You can imagine what I said. When I saw her in +the gym after school I knew she had an object. But +leave things to me. I know a way to stop her objections +very quickly. If she sends for you, go +straight to the junior locker room from the study +hall and wait there for me. If she doesn’t send for +you, then you’ll know everything is all right. Remember +now, don’t set foot out of that locker room +until I come for you.” With this parting injunction +Ellen hurried off, leaving Marjorie a victim to many +emotions. +</p> +<p> +So the Observer’s, or rather Mignon’s, prophesy +bordered on fulfillment. Mignon and the few juniors +who still adhered to the La Salle standard had +made complaint against her to Miss Davis in the +name of the junior class. As a friend of Miss Merton, +Miss Davis had always favored the French girl. +Last year it had been whispered about that her motive +in creating a second sophomore team had arisen +from her wish to help Mignon’s fortunes along. No +doubt she had been very glad to listen to this latest +appeal on Mignon’s part. +</p> +<p> +But Marjorie was only partially correct in her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162'></a>162</span> +conclusions. Though it was, indeed, true that Mignon +had besieged Miss Davis with a plea that Marjorie +be removed from the team, no other member +of the junior class had accompanied her. She was +flanked by the far more powerful allies, Charlotte +Horner and Rowena Farnham. The plan of attack +had originated in Rowena’s fertile brain as the +result of a bitter outburst against Marjorie on Mignon’s +part. It was directly after the game that she +had stormed out her grievances to Rowena and +Charlotte. Personally, Rowena cared little about +Mignon’s woes. Her mischief-making faculties +were aroused merely on Marjorie’s account. Had +it been Susan, or Muriel against whom Mignon +raved she would have laughed and dubbed her +friend, “a big baby.” But Marjorie—there was a +chance to even her score. +</p> +<p> +“You just let me manage this,” Rowena had declared +boastfully. “This Miss Davis is easy. She’s +a snob. So is Miss Merton. If they weren’t they’d +have put you in your place long ago. They can see +through you. It’s money that counts with both of +them. I’ve made it a point right along to be nice +to Miss Davis. In case that frosty Miss Seymour +tried to make trouble for me, I knew I needed a substantial +backing. Now I’ll ask her to my house to +dinner to-morrow night. If she can’t come, so much +the better for me. If she can, so much the better +for you. Of course you’ll be there, too. Then we’ll +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163'></a>163</span> +see what we can do. You ought to be very grateful +to me. I expect she’ll bore me to death. I’m only +doing it for your sake.” +</p> +<p> +Rowena was too crafty not to hang the heavy +mantle of obligation on Mignon’s shoulders. Thus +indebted to her, Mignon would one day be reminded +of the debt. As a last perfect touch to her scheme +she had shrewdly included Charlotte Horner in the +invitation. Providentially for Mignon, Miss Davis +had no previous engagement. So it fell about that +Rowena became hostess to three guests. At home a +young despot, who bullied her timid little mother +and coaxed her indulgent father into doing her will, +she merely announced her intention to entertain at +dinner and let that end it. The final results of that +highly successful dinner party were yet to be announced. +</p> +<p> +Unwittingly, however, Miss Davis had blundered. +In order to strengthen her case she had purposely +complained of Marjorie to Ellen Seymour. Knowing +nothing of Ellen’s devotion to the pretty junior, +she had not dreamed that Ellen would set the wheels +in motion to defeat her. She was in reality more +to be pitied than blamed. Of a nature which accepted +hearsay evidence, declining to go below the +surface, it is not to be wondered at that Rowena’s +clever persuasion, backed by Mignon’s and Charlotte’s +able support, caused her to spring to the +French girl’s aid. She was one of those aggravating +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164'></a>164</span> +persons who refuse to see whatever they do not +wish to see. She was undoubtedly proficient in the +business of physical culture. She was extremely inefficient +in the art of reading girls. Sufficient unto +herself, she, therefore, felt no compunction in sending +forth the word that should summon Marjorie +to the gymnasium, there to be deprived of that which +she had rightfully earned. +</p> +<p> +Like many other days that had come to poor Marjorie +since the beginning of her junior year, suspense +became the ruling power. Two things she +knew definitely. Ellen Seymour was for her. Miss +Davis against her. The rest she could only +guess at, losing herself in a maze of troubled conjecture. +Judge her surprise when on reaching the +locker room, she found not only Ellen awaiting her, +but her teammates as well. They had made a most +precipitate flight from the study hall in order to be +in the locker room when she arrived. +</p> +<p> +“Why, Ellen! Why, girls!” she stammered. A +deeper pink rushed to her cheeks; a mist gathered +in her eyes as she realized the meaning of their +presence. They had come in a body to help her. +</p> +<p> +“We’re here because we’re here,” trilled Captain +Muriel Harding. “In a few minutes we’ll be in the +gym. Then someone else will get a surprise. Are +we ready to march? I rather think we are. Lead +the procession, Ellen.” +</p> +<p> +“Come on, Marjorie, you and I will walk together. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165'></a>165</span> +Fall in, girls. The invincible sextette will now take +the trail.” +</p> +<p> +Amid much laughter on their part and openly +curious glances from constantly arriving juniors +who wondered what was on foot, the six girls had +swung off down the corridor before the curious +ones found opportunity to relieve their curiosity. +</p> +<p> +“She’s not here yet,” commented Susan, as they +entered the place of tryst. “Isn’t that too bad. I +hoped she’d be on hand to see the mighty host advancing.” +</p> +<p> +“Here she comes,” warned Rita Talbot. “Now, +for it.” +</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII—DOING BATTLE FOR MARJORIE</h2> +<p> +Two spots of angry color appeared high up on +Miss Davis’s lean face as she viewed the waiting +six. It came to her that she was in for a lively +scene. Setting her mouth firmly, she approached +them. Addressing herself to Marjorie, she opened +with: “I sent for <em>you</em>, Miss Dean; not your friends.” +</p> +<p> +“I asked these girls to come here.” Ellen Seymour +turned an unflinching gaze upon the nettled +instructor. +</p> +<p> +“Then you may invite them into one of the dressing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166'></a>166</span> +rooms for a time. My business with Miss Dean +is strictly personal.” +</p> +<p> +“I am quite willing that my friends should hear +whatever you have to say to me.” Marjorie’s brown +head lifted itself a trifle higher. +</p> +<p> +“But <em>I</em> am not willing that they should listen,” +snapped Miss Davis. +</p> +<p> +“Then I must refuse to listen, also,” flashed the +quick, but even response. +</p> +<p> +“This is sheer impudence!” exclaimed Miss Davis. +“I sent for you and I insist that you must stay until +I give you permission to go. As for these girls——” +</p> +<p> +“These girls will remain here until Marjorie +goes,” put in Ellen, admirably self-controlled. +“Everyone of them knows already why you wish to +see Marjorie Dean. She knows, too. We have +come to defend her. I, for one, say that she <em>shall not</em> be +dismissed from the team. Her teammates +say the same. It is unfair.” +</p> +<p> +“Have I said that she was to be dismissed from +the team?” demanded Miss Davis, too much irritated +to assert her position as teacher. Ellen’s +blunt accusation had robbed her of her usual show of +dignity. +</p> +<p> +“Can you say that such was not your intention?” +cross-questioned Ellen mercilessly. +</p> +<p> +Miss Davis could not. She looked the picture of +angry guilt. “I shall not answer such an impertinent +question,” she fumed. “You are all dismissed.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167'></a>167</span> +Privately, she determined to send for Marjorie the +next day during school hours. +</p> +<p> +“Very well.” Ellen bowed her acceptance of the +dismissal. “Shall we consider the matter settled?” +</p> +<p> +“Certainly not.” The words leaped sharply to +the woman’s lips. Realizing she had blundered, she +hastily amended. “There is no matter under consideration +between you and me.” +</p> +<p> +“Whatever concerns Marjorie’s basket ball interests, +concerns me. If you send for her again she +will not come to you unless we come with her. Am +I not right?” She appealed for information to the +subject of the discussion. +</p> +<p> +“You are,” was the steady reply. +</p> +<p> +“This is simply outrageous.” Miss Davis completely +lost composure. “Do you realize all of you +that you are absolutely defying your teacher? Miss +Dean deserves to be disciplined. After such a display +of discourtesy I refuse to allow her the privilege +of playing on the junior basket ball team.” +Miss Davis continued to express herself, unmindful +of the fact that Muriel Harding had slipped away +from the group and out of the nearest door. Her +temper aroused she held forth at length, ending +with: “This disgraceful exhibition of favoritism on +your part, Miss Seymour, shows very plainly that +you are not fitted to manage basket ball in this +school. I shall replace you as manager to-morrow. +You, Miss Dean, are dismissed from the junior +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168'></a>168</span> +team. I shall report every one of you to Miss Archer +as soon as I leave the gymnasium.” +</p> +<p> +“I believe she is on her way here now,” remarked +Ellen with satirical impersonality. “Muriel went +to find her and ask her to come.” +</p> +<p> +“What!” Miss Davis betrayed small pleasure at +this news. Quickly recovering herself she ordered: +“You may go at once.” +</p> +<p> +“Here she is.” Ellen nodded toward a doorway +through which the principal had just entered, Muriel +only a step behind her. The senior manager’s eyes +twinkled satisfaction. +</p> +<p> +“What seems to be the trouble here, Miss Davis?” +The principal came pithily to the point. +</p> +<p> +“I have been insulted by these disrespectful girls.” +Miss Davis waved a hand toward the defending sextette. +</p> +<p> +“That is news I do not relish hearing about my +girls. I wish every teacher in this school to be +treated with respect. Kindly tell me what reason +they gave for doing so.” +</p> +<p> +“I sent for Miss Dean on a personal matter. She +insisted on bringing these girls with her. I requested +them to leave me alone with Miss Dean. +They refused to do so. I dismissed them all, intending +to put off my interview with Miss Dean +until to-morrow. Miss Seymour took it upon herself +to tell me that Miss Dean would not come to +me to-morrow unless accompanied by herself and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169'></a>169</span> +these girls. Miss Dean declared the same thing. +Such conduct is unendurable.” +</p> +<p> +“These young women must have strong reason for +such peculiar conduct, or else they have overstepped +all bounds,” decided Miss Archer impassively. +“What have you to say for yourself, Ellen? As a +member of the senior class I shall expect a concise +explanation.” +</p> +<p> +“We have a very strong reason for our misbehavior.” +Ellen put a questioning inflection on the +last word. “Briefly explained, it is this. Miss Davis +has been influenced by certain persons to dismiss +Marjorie Dean from the junior basket ball team. +Because the juniors lost the game the other day by +two points, the blame for it has been unjustly placed +upon Marjorie. At practice yesterday she did not +play as well as usual. These are, apparently, the +very shaky causes for her dismissal. I shall not +attempt to tell you the true reasons. They are unworthy +of mention. As her manager I refused to +countenance such unfairness. So did her teammates. +They will agree with me when I say that +Marjorie is one of the best players we have ever +had at Sanford High. We are all in position to +say so. We know her work. So we came with her +to defend her. I admit that we took a rather stiff +stand with Miss Davis. There was no other way.” +</p> +<p> +“What are your reasons for dismissing Miss Dean +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170'></a>170</span> +from the team?” Still impassive of feature, the +principal now addressed Miss Davis. +</p> +<p> +“I have received complaints regarding her work,” +came the defiant answer. +</p> +<p> +“According to Ellen these complaints did not proceed +from either herself or her teammates. If not +from them, whom could it interest to make complaint?” +continued the inexorable questioner. +</p> +<p> +“The members of the junior class are naturally +interested in the team representing them,” reminded +Miss Davis tartly. +</p> +<p> +“How many members of the junior class objected +to Miss Dean as a player?” relentlessly pursued Miss +Archer. +</p> +<p> +Miss Davis grew confused. “I—they—I decline +to talk this matter over with you in the presence of +these insolent girls,” she hotly rallied. +</p> +<p> +“A word, girls, and you may go. I am greatly +displeased over this affair. Since basket ball seems +to be such a trouble-breeder, it might better be abolished +in this school. I may decide to take that step. +Desperate diseases require desperate remedies. You +will hear more of this later. That will be all at +present.” +</p> +<p> +With the feeling that the gymnasium roof was +about to descend upon them, the six girls quitted the +battlefield. +</p> +<p> +“Don’t you ever believe Miss Archer will stop +basket ball,” emphasized Muriel Harding when they +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171'></a>171</span> +were well down the corridor. “She knows every +single thing about it. I told her in the office. I told +her, too, that I knew Rowena Farnham and Charlotte +Horner were mixed up in it. They’ve had +their heads together ever since the game.” +</p> +<p> +“I would have resigned in a minute, but I just +couldn’t after the way you girls fought for me,” +Marjorie voiced her distress. “If Miss Archer stops +basket ball it will be my fault. I’m sorry I ever +made the team.” +</p> +<p> +“You couldn’t help yourself.” Ellen Seymour +was rapidly regaining her cheerfulness. “Don’t +think for a minute that Miss Davis will be able to +smooth things over. Miss Archer is too clever not +to recognize unfairness when she meets it face to +face. And don’t worry about her stopping basket +ball. Take my word for it. She won’t.” +</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX—WHAT JERRY MACY “DUG UP”</h2> +<p> +As Ellen Seymour had predicted, basket ball did +not receive its quietus. But no one ever knew what +passed between Miss Archer and Miss Davis. The +principal also held a long session with Ellen, who +emerged from her office with a pleased smile. To +Marjorie and her faithful support Ellen +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172'></a>172</span> +said confidentially: “It’s all settled. No one will ever try +to shove Marjorie off the team while Miss Archer is +here. But basket ball is doomed, if anything else +like that ever comes up. Miss Archer says so.” +Strangely enough the six girls were not required to +apologize to Miss Davis. Possibly Miss Archer was +not anxious to reopen the subject by thus courting +fresh rebellion. After all, basket ball was not down +on the high school curriculum. She was quite willing +her girls should be at liberty to manage it as +they chose, provided they managed it wisely and +without friction. Privately, she was disgusted with +Miss Davis’s part in the recent disagreement. She +strongly advised the former to give up all claim +to the management of the teams. But this advice +Miss Davis refused to take. She still insisted on +keeping up a modified show of authority, but resolved +within herself to be more careful. She had +learned considerable about girls. +</p> +<p> +The three plotters accepted their defeat with bad +grace. Afraid that the tale would come to light, +Mignon and Charlotte privately shoved the blame +on Rowena’s shoulders. Nothing leaked out, however, +and they were too wise to censure Rowena to +her face. Mignon soon discovered that the obliging +sophomore’s efforts in her behalf had cost her dear. +Rowena tyrannized over her more than ever. After +the second game between the junior and sophomore +teams, which occurred two weeks after Marjorie’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173'></a>173</span> +narrow escape from dismissal from the team, Mignon +came into the belief that her lot was, indeed, +hard. The sophomores had been ingloriously +beaten, the score standing 22-12 in favor of the juniors. +In consequence Rowena was furious, forcing +Mignon to listen to her long tirades against the juniors, +and rating her unmercifully when she failed to +register proper sympathy. +</p> +<p> +Owing to the nearness of the Christmas holidays +and the brief stretch that lay between them and the +mid-year examinations, the other two games were +put off until February and March, respectively. No +one except Rowena was sorry. She longed for a +speedy opportunity to wipe the defeat off her slate. +She had little of the love of holiday giving in her +heart, and was heard loudly to declare that Christmas +was a nuisance. +</p> +<p> +Marjorie and her little coterie of intimates regarded +it very differently. They found the days +before Yule-tide altogether too short in which to +carry out their Christmas plans. With the nearness +of the blessed anniversary of the world’s King, Marjorie +grew daily happier. Since the straightening +of the basket ball tangle, for her, things in school +had progressed with surprising smoothness. Then, +too, the hateful Observer had evidently forgotten +her. Since the letter advising her to “prepare to +meet the inevitable,” the Observer had apparently +laid down her pen. Marjorie soberly confided to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174'></a>174</span> +her captain that she hoped Christmas might make +the Observer see things differently. +</p> +<p> +Obeying the familiar mandate, which peered at +her from newspaper, store or street car, “Do Your +Christmas Shopping Early,” she lovingly stored +away the numerous beribboned bundles designed +for intimate friends at least a week before Christmas. +That last week she left open in order to go +about the business of making a merry Christmas for +the needy. As on the previous year Jerry Macy and +Constance were her right-hand men. Susan, Irma, +Muriel and Harriet also caught the fever of giving +and the six girls worked zealously, inspired by the +highest motives, to bring happiness to the poverty-stricken. +</p> +<p> +Christmas morning brought Marjorie an unusual +windfall of gifts. It seemed as though everyone she +liked had remembered her. Looking back on the +previous Christmas, she remembered rather sadly the +Flag of Truce and all that it had signified. This +year Mary and she were again one at heart. She +dropped a few tears of sheer happiness over Mary’s +long Christmas letter and the beautiful embroidered +Mexican scarf that had come with it. She had sent +Mary a wonderful silver desk set engraved with M. +to M., which she hoped wistfully that Mary would +like as much as she cherished her exquisite scarf. +</p> +<p> +The Christmas vacation was, as usual, a perpetual +round of gaiety. Jerry and Hal gave their usual +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175'></a>175</span> +dance. Constance gave a New Year’s hop. Harriet +and Muriel entertained their friends at luncheons, +while Marjorie herself sent out invitations for an +old-fashioned sleigh-ride party, with an informal +supper and dance at her home on the return. These +social events, with some few others of equal pleasure, +sent Father Time spinning along giddily. +</p> +<p> +“Aren’t you sorry it’s all over?” sighed Constance, +as she and Marjorie lingered at the Macys’ gate at +the close of their first day at school after the holidays. +</p> +<p> +“Sorry’s no name for it,” declared Jerry. “We +certainly had one beautiful time, I mean a beautiful +time. Honestly, I liked the getting things ready for +other folks best of all, though. I like to keep busy. +I wish we had something to do or somebody to help +all the time. I’m going to poke around and see what +I can stir up. I try to do the sisterly, helpful act +toward Hal; picking up the stuff he strews all over +the house and locating lost junk, I mean articles, but +he’s about as appreciative as a Feejee Islander. You +know how grateful they are.” +</p> +<p> +“I saw one in a circus once,” laughed Constance +reminiscently. “I wasn’t impressed with his sense +of gratitude. Someone threw him a peanut and he +flung it back and hit an old gentleman in the eye.” +</p> +<p> +A general giggle arose at the erring Feejee’s +strange conception of gratitude. +</p> +<p> +“That will be nice to tell Hal when he shows the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176'></a>176</span> +same delicate sort of thankfulness,” grinned Jerry. +“I’m not going to waste my precious talents on him +all winter. I’m going to dig up something better. +If you girls hear of anything, run all the way to +our house, any hour of the day or night, and tell +your friend Jerry Geraldine Jeremiah. All three are +one, as Rudyard Kipling says in something or other +he wrote.” +</p> +<p> +“I love Kipling’s books,” said Constance. “One +of the first things I did when I wasn’t poor any +longer was to buy a whole set. That first year at +Sanford High I tried to get them in the school library. +But there were only two or three of them.” +</p> +<p> +“That library is terribly run down,” asserted +Jerry. “They haven’t half the books there they +ought to have. I was talking to my father about it +the other night. He promised to put it before the +Board. I hope he does. Then maybe we’ll get +some more books. I don’t care so much for myself. +I can get all the books I want. But there are a lot +of girls that can’t, who need special ones for reading +courses.” +</p> +<p> +Jerry’s resolve to “poke around and stir up something” +did not meet with any special success. The +more needy of the Christmas poor were already being +looked after by Mrs. Dean, Mrs. Macy and other +charitably disposed persons who devoted themselves +to the cause of benevolence the year around. Generous-hearted +Jerry continued to help in the good +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177'></a>177</span> +work, but her active nature was still on the alert +for some special object. +</p> +<p> +“I’ve dug it up,” she announced in triumph, several +evenings later. The three girls were conducting +a prudent review at Jerry’s home, preparatory to the +rapidly approaching mid-year test. +</p> +<p> +“What did you say, Jerry?” Marjorie tore her +eyes from her French grammar, over which she had +been poring. “I was so busy trying to fix the conjugation +of these miserable, irregular verbs in my +mind that I didn’t hear you.” +</p> +<p> +“I’ve dug up the great idea; the how-to-be-helpful +stunt. It’s right in our school, too, that our labors +are needed.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s interesting; ever so much more so than +this.” Constance Stevens closed the book she held +with a snap. “I’m not a bit fond of German,” she +added. “I have to study it, though, on account of +the Wagner operas. This ‘<em>Höher als die Kirche</em>’ is +a pretty story, but it’s terribly hard to translate. +We’ll have several pages of it to do in examination. +Excuse me, Jerry, for getting off the subject. What +is it that you’ve dug up?” +</p> +<p> +“It’s about the library. You know I told you that +my father was going to speak of it at the Board +meeting. Well, he did, but it wasn’t any use. There +have been such a lot of appropriations made for +other things that the library will have to wait. +That’s what the high and mighty Board say. This +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178'></a>178</span> +is what <em>I</em> say. Why not get busy among ourselves +and dig up some money for new books?” +</p> +<p> +“You mean by subscription?” asked Marjorie. +</p> +<p> +“No, siree. I mean by earning it ourselves,” proposed +Jerry. “Subscription would mean that a lot +of girls would feel that they ought to give something +which they couldn’t afford to give. Then there’d +be those who couldn’t give a cent. That would be +hard on them. What we ought to do is to get up +some kind of a show that the whole school would +be interested in.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s a fine idea. It’s public-spirited,” approved +Marjorie. “What sort of entertainment do you +think we might give? We couldn’t give it until after +examinations, though.” +</p> +<p> +“I know the kind I’d like to give, but I can’t unless +a certain person promises to help me,” was Jerry’s +mystifying reply. +</p> +<p> +“Miss Archer?” guessed Constance. +</p> +<p> +“Nope; Connie Stevens.” Jerry grinned widely +at Constance’s patent amazement. +</p> +<p> +“I?” she questioned. “What have I to do with +it?” +</p> +<p> +“Everything. You could coax Laurie Armitage +to help us and then, too, you’d be leading lady. Do +you know now what I’m driving at? I see you +don’t. Well, I’d like to give the ‘Rebellious Princess’ +again, one night in Sanford and the next in +Riverview. That is only twenty-five miles from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179'></a>179</span> +here. A whole lot of the Sanfordites were disappointed +last year because they couldn’t get into the +theatre to see the operetta. Another performance +would pack the theatre, just as full as last Spring. +I know the Riverview folks would turn out to it. +There are two high schools in Riverview, you know. +Besides, we have the costumes and everything ready. +Two or three rehearsals would be all we’d need. If +we tried to give an entertainment or a play, it would +take so long to practise for it. Have I a head on my +shoulders or have I not?” +</p> +<p> +“You certainly have,” chorused her listeners. +</p> +<p> +“I am willing to do all I can,” agreed Constance. +“I’ll see Laurie about it to-morrow.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, you needn’t wait until then. He’s downstairs +now with Hal and Danny Seabrooke. I told +Hal to ask the boys over here this evening. We can’t +study all the time, you know. I suppose they are +ready to tear up the furniture because we are still up +here. Danny Seabrooke is such a sweet, patient, +little boy. Put away your books and we’ll go down +to the library. Since this is a library proposition, +let’s be consistent.” +</p> +<p> +A hum of girl voices, accompanied by the patter +of light feet on the stairs, informed three impatient +youths that they had not waited in vain. +</p> +<p> +“At last!” exclaimed the irrepressible Daniel, better +known as the Gad-fly, his round, freckled face +almost disappearing behind his Cheshire grin. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180'></a>180</span> +“Long have we sought thee, and now that we have +found thee——” +</p> +<p> +“Sought nothing,” contradicted Jerry. “I’ll bet +you haven’t set foot outside this library. There’s +evidence of it.” She pointed to Hal and Laurie, who +had just hastily deposited foils in a corner and were +now more hastily engaged in drawing on their coats. +“You’ve been holding a fencing match. Laurie +came out best, of course. He always does. He’s a +fencing master and a musician all in one.” +</p> +<p> +“Jerry never gives me credit for anything,” +laughed Hal. “That is, in public. Later, when +Laurie’s gone home, she’ll tell me how much better +I can fence than Laurie.” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t you believe him. He’s trying to tease me, +but I know him too well to pay any attention to what +he says.” Jerry’s fond grin bespoke her affection +for the brother she invariably grumbled about. At +heart she was devoted to him. In public she derived +peculiar pleasure from sparring with him. +</p> +<p> +The trio of girls had advanced upon the library, +there to hold a business session. But the keynote of +the next half hour was sociability. It was Constance +who first started the ball rolling. Ensconced beside +Laurie on the deep window seat, she told the young +composer that Jerry had a wonderful scheme to unfold. +</p> +<p> +“Then let’s get together and listen to it,” he said +warmly. Three minutes afterward he had marshalled the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181'></a>181</span> +others to the window seat. “Everybody +sit down but Jerry. She has the floor. Go ahead, +Jerry. Tell us what you’d like us to do.” He reseated +himself by Constance. Laurie never neglected +an opportunity to be near to the girl of his +boyish heart. +</p> +<p> +Posting herself before her hearers with an exaggerated +air of importance, Jerry made a derisive +mouth at Danny Seabrooke, who was leaning forward +with an appearance of profound interest, which +threatened to land him sprawling on the floor. “I’m +not used to addressing such a large audience,” she +chuckled. “Ahem! Wow!” Having delivered herself +of these enlightening remarks she straightened +her face and set forth her plan with her usual +brusque energy. She ended with: “You three boys +have got to help. No backing out.” +</p> +<p> +“Surely we’ll help,” promised Laurie at once. +“It’s a good idea, Jerry. I can have things going inside +of a week. That is, if my leading lady doesn’t +develop a temperament. These opera singers are +very temperamental, you know.” His blue eyes +rested smilingly on Constance. +</p> +<p> +“I’m not an opera singer,” she retorted. “I’m +only a would-be one. Would-be’s are very humble +persons. They know they must behave well. You +had better interview your tenor lead. Tenors are +supposed to be terribly irresponsible.” +</p> +<p> +Amid an exchange of equally harmless badinage, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182'></a>182</span> +the six willing workers discussed the plan at length. +So much excited discussion was provocative of hunger. +No one, except Hal, said so, yet when Jerry +disappeared to return trundling a tea wagon, filled +with delectable provender, she was hailed with acclamation. +</p> +<p> +“What splendid times we always have together,” +was Marjorie’s enthusiastic opinion, when seated beside +Hal in his own pet car she was being conveyed +home. Snatches of mirthful conversation issuing +from the tonneau where the rest of the sextette, +Jerry included, were enjoying themselves hugely, +seemed direct corroboration of her words. Invited +to “come along,” Jerry had needed no second urging. +</p> +<p> +“That’s your fault,” Hal made gallant response. +“You are the magnet that draws us all together. +Before you and Jerry were friends I never realized +what a fine sister I had. If you hadn’t been +so nice to Constance, she and Laurie might never +have come to know each other so well. Then there’s +Dan. He always used to run away from girls. He +got over his first fright at that little party you gave +the first year you came to Sanford. You’re a magician, +Marjorie, and you’re making a pretty nice +history for yourself among your friends. I hope +always to be among the best of them.” Hal was +very earnest in his boyish praise. +</p> +<p> +“I am sure we’ll always be the best of friends, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183'></a>183</span> +Hal,” she said seriously, though her color heightened +at the sincere tribute to herself. “I can’t see +that I’ve done anything specially wonderful, though. +It’s easy to be nice to those one likes who like one +in return. It’s being nice to those one doesn’t like +that’s hard. It’s harder still not to be liked.” +</p> +<p> +“Then you aren’t apt to know that hardship,” +retorted Hal. +</p> +<p> +Marjorie smiled faintly. She had known that +very hardship ever since she had come to Sanford. +She merely answered: “Everybody must meet a few, +I won’t say enemies, I’ll just say, people who don’t +like one.” +</p> +<p> +That night as she sat before her dressing table +brushing her thick, brown curls, she pondered +thoughtfully over Hal Macy’s words. In saying +them she knew he had been sincere. It was sweet +to hope that she <em>had</em> been and was still a power for +good. Yet it made her feel very humble. She could +only resolve to try always to live up to that difficult +standard. +</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XX—CONSTANCE POINTS THE WAY</h2> +<p> +“This is a nice state of affairs,” scolded Jerry +Macy. “What do you suppose has happened, Marjorie?” +Overtaking her friend in the corridor on the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184'></a>184</span> +way from recitation, Jerry’s loud question cut the +air like a verbal bomb-shell. Without waiting for +a reply she continued in a slightly lower key. “Harriet +has tonsilitis. Isn’t that the worst you ever +heard? And only three days before the operetta, +too. We can’t give it until she gets well, unless +somebody in the chorus can sing her rôle. I’m going +to telephone Laurie after my next class is over and +tell him about it. The chorus is our only hope. +Some one of the girls may know the part fairly +well. They all ought to after so much rehearsing +last Spring. Most of them can’t do solo work, +though. Do you think you could sing it?” Jerry +had drawn Marjorie to one side of the corridor as +she rapidly related her bad news. +</p> +<p> +“Mercy, no!” Marjorie registered dismay at the +mere suggestion. “I wouldn’t dream of attempting +it. Isn’t it too bad that Harriet hasn’t an understudy? +I’m ever so sorry she’s sick. How dreadfully +disappointed she must be.” +</p> +<p> +“Not any more so than half of Sanford will be +when they hear the operetta’s been postponed. +Every reserved seat ticket’s been sold. Who’d have +thought that Harriet would go and get tonsilitis?” +mourned Jerry. “There’s a regular epidemic of +it in Sanford. You know Nellie Simmons had it +when the sophs wanted that basket ball game postponed. +Quite a number of Sanford High girls have +had it, too. Be careful you don’t get it.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185'></a>185</span> +</p> +<p> +Marjorie laughed. “Oh, <em>I</em> won’t. Don’t worry. +I’m never sick. We’ll have to go, Jerry. There’s +the last bell.” +</p> +<p> +“You had better touch wood.” Jerry hurled this +warning advice over one plump shoulder as she +moved off. +</p> +<p> +It brought a smile to Marjorie’s lips. She was +not in the least superstitious. She grew grave with +the thought that the operetta would have to be postponed. +At the first performance of the “Rebellious +Princess,” Harriet had sung her part at a moment’s +notice. Until then she had been Mignon La Salle’s +understudy. Struck by a sudden thought Marjorie +stopped short. Jerry had evidently forgotten that +Mignon knew the rôle. Still, it would do no good +to remind her of it, or Laurie either. She believed +that Jerry, at least, would infinitely prefer that the +operetta should never be given rather than allow +Mignon to sing in it. The mere mention of it was +likely to make her cross. Marjorie decided to keep +her own counsel. She had no reason to wish to see +Mignon thus honored, particularly after her treacherous +attempt to do Constance out of her part. +Then, too, there was the new grievance of the Observer +against her. +</p> +<p> +By the time school was over for the day, Constance +had already been acquainted with the dire +news. Apart from her two chums, Jerry had told +no one else except Hal and Laurie. When the three +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186'></a>186</span> +girls emerged from the school building, accompanied +by Susan, Muriel and Irma, they saw the two +young men waiting for them across the street. +The latter three faithful satellites immediately took +themselves off with much giggling advice to Jerry +that four was a company, but five a crowd. Jerry +merely grinned amiably and refused to join them. +She knew her own business. +</p> +<p> +“This is too bad, Jerry,” were Laurie’s first +words. “What are we to do?” +</p> +<p> +“That’s for you to say,” shrugged Jerry. “All I +can think of to do is have a try-out of the chorus. +If none of them can sing Harriet’s part, we’ll have +to call it off. I mean postpone it.” Jerry cast a sly +glance at Hal to see if he had noticed her polite +amendment. +</p> +<p> +“What have you to say, Constance and Marjorie?” +queried Laurie. “But the street is not the +place for a consultation. Suppose we go down to +Sargent’s to talk it over. I spoke to Professor Harmon +this afternoon, but he said he’d rather leave it +to me. He’s busy just now with that new boy +choir at the Episcopal Church. He wants me to +direct the operetta.” +</p> +<p> +Voicing approval of this last, the three girls allowed +their willing cavaliers to steer them toward +Sargent’s hospitable doors. Hal, Marjorie and +Jerry took the lead, leaving Constance and Laurie +to follow. Nothing further relating to the problem +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187'></a>187</span> +that had risen was said until the five were seated at +a rear table in the confectioner’s smart little shop. +Then Laurie abruptly took it up. “We are ready +for suggestions,” he invited. +</p> +<p> +“I have one.” There was a peculiar note of uncertainty +in Constance’s voice as she spoke. “You +are not going to be pleased with it, but it seems to +me the only thing to do.” More boldly she added: +“Let Mignon La Salle sing the part.” +</p> +<p> +“Never!” burst from Laurie and Jerry simultaneously. +</p> +<p> +The appearance of a white-coated youth to take +their order halted the discussion for a moment. As +he hurried away Marjorie’s soft voice was heard: +“I thought of that, too, this morning. I had made +up my mind not to speak of it. Connie makes me +ashamed of myself. Connie is willing for Mignon +to sing the part that she cheated herself of. I think +we ought to be.” +</p> +<p> +In silence Laurie stared at her across the table, +his brows knitted in a deep frown. Then his gaze +rested on Constance. “You girls are queer,” he +said slowly. “I don’t understand you at all.” +</p> +<p> +“I do,” declared Jerry, far from pleased. “I can’t +say I agree with them, though. If we ask Mignon +to sing the part (I don’t know who’s going to ask +her), she will parade around like a peacock. She +may say ‘no’ just for spite. She doesn’t speak to +any of us.” Then she added in a milder tone, “I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188'></a>188</span> +suppose her father would dance a hornpipe if we +let her sing it. I heard he felt terribly about the +way she performed last Spring. You know he put +off a business trip just to go to hear her sing, and +then she didn’t. She had nobody but herself to +blame, though.” +</p> +<p> +Unwittingly, Jerry had struck a responsive chord +in Hal. Leaning forward, he said impulsively, +“Then I think I’d ask her, Laurie. Mr. La Salle is +a fine man. His office is next to Dad’s. I often go +in there and talk to him. He is mighty interesting. +He has traveled all over the world and knows how +to tell about what he’s seen. He’s all wrapped up +in Mignon. You can see that. I wish you’d ask +her just on his account. It would pay up for last +Spring.” +</p> +<p> +“Three against two,” grumbled Jerry, “and one +of them my own brother. Do we stand our ground, +Laurie, or do we not?” +</p> +<p> +Laurie did not answer immediately. He had not +forgiven the French girl her transgression against +Constance. The battery of earnest blue and brown +eyes bent upon him proved fatal to his animosity. +“Our ground seems to be shaky,” he answered. +“The majority generally rules.” +</p> +<p> +“Then you <em>will</em> ask her?” Constance flashed him +a radiant smile that quite repaid him for his hinted +decision in Mignon’s favor. “It will have to be +you. She wouldn’t do it for us.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189'></a>189</span> +</p> +<p> +Laurie showed lively consternation. “Oh, see +here——” Innate chivalry toward girlhood overtook +him. “All right,” he answered. “I’ll ask her.” +</p> +<p> +In the midst of countless woes, arising from her +unwilling allegiance to Rowena Farnham, Mignon +next day received the glorious invitation from a +most studiedly polite young man. If anyone other +than Lawrence Armitage had come to her with the +request she would, in all probability, refused pointblank +to countenance the idea. Mignon still cherished +her school-girl preference for the handsome +young musician. She, therefore, assented to the proposal +with only the merest show of reluctance. Laurie +made it very plain, however, that Constance Stevens +desired it. Inwardly, Mignon writhed with +anger; outwardly, she was a smiling image of amiability. +</p> +<p> +Afterward she experienced the deepest satisfaction +in boasting to Rowena of the honor which had +come to her. +</p> +<p> +“I think I’ll be in that operetta, too,” had been +Rowena’s calm decision. “I’ll go to that Lawrence +Armitage and tell him I shall sing in the chorus.” +Straightway, she went on this laudable errand, only +to be politely but firmly informed that there were +no chorus vacancies. Over this she raged to Mignon, +then consoled herself and dismayed the French +girl by calmly announcing, “I’m going to the theatre +with you just the same and watch the silly operetta +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190'></a>190</span> +from behind the scenes. Let me know when you +have your rehearsals, for I intend to go to them, +too.” +</p> +<p> +Resorting to craft, Mignon managed to attend the +first rehearsal without Rowena. The latter discovered +this and pounced upon her on her way home +with a torrent of ungentle remarks. Bullied to tears, +Mignon was obliged to allow Rowena to accompany +her to the second and third rehearsals, the third being +the last before the public performance. +</p> +<p> +Though the cast secretly objected to this, they +made no open manifestation of their disgust. It +was now fairly well known how matters stood between +Rowena and Mignon. The latter had no +reason to complain of the universally civil treatment +she received. It was merely civil, however, and contained +no friendliness of spirit. By the entire cast +the French girl was regarded as an evil necessity. +For that reason they also reluctantly endured Rowena’s +presence. But Rowena derived no pleasure +from her intrusion, except the fact that she was a +source of covert annoyance to all parties. Her jealous +soul was filled with torment at being left out +of the production. Shrewd intuition alone warned +her not to create even the slightest disturbance. She +had determined to go with the cast to Riverview. +Consequently, she did not propose cutting off her +nose to spite her face. +</p> +<p> +The knowledge that the proceeds from the operetta were +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191'></a>191</span> +to be devoted to school use, rallied the Sanfordites +to the cause. The Sanford performances +went off without a hitch before a huge and delighted +assemblage. It may be set down to her credit that +Mignon La Salle sang the part of the proud step-sister +even better than Harriet Delaney had rendered +it. Her dramatic ability was considerable and her +voice and temperament were eminently suited to her +rôle. On this one occasion her long-suffering parent +was not disappointed in his daughter. Natural perspicacity +caused him to wonder not a little how it +had all come about, and he made a mental note to +inquire into it at the first opportunity. Strongly +disapproving of the intimacy between Mignon and +Rowena Farnham, he was hopeful that this honor +done his daughter would throw her again among the +finer type of the Sanford girls. From his young +friend Hal Macy he had received glowing descriptions +of Marjorie and her close friends, and he +longed to see Mignon take kindly to them. +</p> +<p> +Could he have peeped into Mignon’s subtle brain, +his dreams would have vanished in thin air. Ever +the ingrate, she was thankful to none for the unexpected +chance to glitter. At heart she was the same +tigerish young person, ready to claw at a moment’s +notice. Within her lurked two permanent desires. +One of them was to win the interest of Lawrence +Armitage; the other to be free of Rowena. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192'></a>192</span>CHAPTER XXI—ROWENA RE-ARRANGES MATTERS</h2> +<p> +The Sanford performance of “The Rebellious +Princess” took place on Friday evening. Late the +following afternoon the illustrious cast were conveyed +by train or motor to Riverview, the scene of +Saturday evening’s operations. Marjorie, Constance, +Mr. and Mrs. Dean drove there in the Deans’ +motor. Accompanied by Mrs. Macy, Jerry, Susan, +Muriel and Irma motored to Riverview together. +Hal and Laurie sought temporary freedom from the +fair sex in the latter’s roadster. Mr. La Salle had +promised, at Mignon’s earnest request, to drive to +Riverview with her in her runabout. She had +adopted this means of thus temporarily eliminating +Rowena. Not daring to thrust herself upon Mignon +when bolstered by her father’s protection, Rowena +had declared buoyantly that she would be there +anyway. +</p> +<p> +Unfortunately for Mignon, a sudden business +emergency sent Mr. La Salle speeding to Buffalo on +the Saturday morning train. Before going, however, +he instructed his chauffeur to drive Mignon +to the train for Riverview and see her safely on it. +With others of the cast on the same train, she would +be in good company. But the best laid plans often +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193'></a>193</span> +go astray. Ever on the alert for treachery, Rowena +saw Mr. La Salle depart and hurrying to the La +Salle’s home soon bullied the true state of affairs +from his petulant offspring. +</p> +<p> +“Don’t bother about taking the train,” Rowena +counseled arrogantly. “James will drive us over +to Riverview in our limousine. He can stay there +until the show is over and bring us home.” +</p> +<p> +“I can’t do that,” parried Mignon. “My father +gave orders to William to drive me to the train the +cast is to take and put me on it. If I were to go +with you, William would tell him.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, no, he wouldn’t,” retorted Rowena. “Just +let me talk to William.” Without waiting for further +excuses from Mignon, the self-willed sophomore +dashed out of the house in the direction of +the La Salle garage. Mignon followed her, divided +between vexation and approbation. She was far +from anxious to make the journey to Riverview by +train. For once Rowena stood for the lesser of +two evils. +</p> +<p> +“Come here, William,” called Rowena, pausing +outside the open garage door and imperiously beckoning +the chauffeur who was engaged in putting a +fresh tire on Mignon’s runabout. +</p> +<p> +“What is it, Miss?” asked the man, as he frowningly +approached Rowena. +</p> +<p> +“You needn’t take Miss La Salle to the train this +afternoon. She’s going with me. She has so much +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194'></a>194</span> +luggage she can’t manage it on the train, so she +had to make different arrangements.” Rowena presented +a formidably smiling front as she gave her +command. +</p> +<p> +“But Mr. La Salle——” protested William. +</p> +<p> +“Don’t be impertinent,” was the freezing interruption. +“We know our own business. Miss La +Salle’s father will know all about it when he returns. +Won’t he?” She turned to Mignon for confirmation. +</p> +<p> +“It is all right, William,” the latter assured him, +purposely neglecting to answer Rowena’s question. +“My father will be told when he returns. He forgot +about my luggage.” +</p> +<p> +“All right, Miss Mignon.” William was far too +discreet to court the double attack, which he knew +would be forthcoming, should he continue to protest. +Miss Mignon always did as she pleased, regardless +of her father. He made mental note, however, +to clear himself the instant his employer returned. +</p> +<p> +“That was simple enough,” exulted Rowena, as +they turned away. “You ought to be glad I fixed +everything so nicely for you. I expect some of those +snippy girls will be anything but pleased to have me +behind the scenes to-night.” +</p> +<p> +“You’d better keep to my dressing room,” warned +Mignon. “On account of it being a different theatre, +there is sure to be some confusion. Laurie Armitage +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195'></a>195</span> +won’t like it if you go strolling around among +the cast the way you’ve done at rehearsals.” +</p> +<p> +“You just attend to your own affairs,” blustered +Rowena, “and I’ll attend to mine. Who cares what +that high and mighty Lawrence Armitage thinks? +He’s so wrapped up in that milk-and-water baby of +a Constance Stevens he doesn’t know you are alive. +Too bad, isn’t it?” +</p> +<p> +Mignon turned red as a poppy. She began to wish +she had not allowed Rowena to alter the arrangements +her father had prudently made. Frowning +her displeasure at the brutal taunt, she cast a half-longing +glance toward the garage. There was still +time to inform William that she had changed her +mind. +</p> +<p> +Instantly Rowena marked the glance and divined +its import. It did not accord with her plans. If +she drove Mignon to reconsider her decision, it +meant one of two things. To quarrel openly with +her would place beyond reach the possibility of accompanying +her to Riverview. If Rowena went +there alone she could not hope to be allowed to go +behind the scenes. On the other hand she dared not +jeopardize her control over Mignon by permitting +her to gain even one point. +</p> +<p> +“Don’t be foolish,” she advised in a more conciliatory +tone. “I was only teasing you about that +Stevens girl. One of these days this Armitage boy +will find out what a silly little thing she is. If you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196'></a>196</span> +are nice to me, I daresay I can help him to find it +out.” +</p> +<p> +Mignon brightened visibly. From all she had +learned of Rowena’s practical methods, she believed +her capable of accomplishing wonders in the mischief-making +line. “I suppose you mean well,” she +said a trifle sullenly. “Still, I don’t think you ought +to say such cutting things to me, Rowena.” +</p> +<p> +Thus once more a temporary truce was declared +between these two wayward children of impulse. +Though neither trusted the other, sheer love of self +admonished them that they could accomplish more +by hanging together. Mignon, however, was destined +to learn that an unstable prop is no more to be +relied upon than no prop at all. +</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII—THE RESULT OF PLAYING WITH FIRE</h2> +<p> +“See here, Jerry, can’t something be done to keep +that Miss Farnham from completely upsetting the +cast?” Laurie Armitage’s fine face was dark with +disapproval as he halted Jerry, who was hurrying +by him toward Constance’s dressing room. “I just +heard her telling one of the girls in the chorus that +her costume was ‘frightfully unbecoming.’ The +poor girl turned red and looked ready to cry. She’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197'></a>197</span> +been circulating among the chorus ever since she and +Mignon landed in the theatre. Goodness knows +what else she has been saying. It won’t do. This +isn’t Sanford, you know. We hope to give a perfect +performance here. I wish I had told Mignon not +to bring her. I hated to do it, though. She might +have got wrathy and backed out at the last minute. +If ever I compose another operetta, I’ll let somebody +else manage it. I’m through,” Laurie concluded in +disgust. +</p> +<p> +“Why don’t you ask Mignon to keep her in the +dressing room?” suggested Jerry. “She’s the only +one who can manage Row-ena. I doubt if <em>she</em> can.” +</p> +<p> +“Might as well touch a match to a bundle of firecrackers,” +compared Laurie gloomily. “Can’t you +think of anything else?” +</p> +<p> +Jerry studied for a moment. As Laurie’s helper +she felt that she ought to measure up to the situation. +“It’s almost time for the show to begin,” +she said. “The chorus will soon be too busy to +bother with her. After the first act, she’ll be in Mignon’s +dressing room. Then I’ll slip around among +the girls and whisper to them not to mind her. She +can’t bother the principals. She doesn’t dare go +near Constance or any of the boys like Hal and the +Crane.” +</p> +<p> +“Please do that.” Laurie sighed with relief. “It +will help me a great deal.” +</p> +<p> +Unaware that she had become the victim of a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198'></a>198</span> +needful strategy, Rowena was serenely deriving +huge enjoyment from the brutally frank criticisms +she was lavishing right and left among the unoffending +choirsters. It was a supreme happiness to her +to see her carefully delivered shots strike home. But +her ambition to wound lay not entirely with the +chorus. She was yearning for a chance to nettle +Constance Stevens, whom she hated by reason of +the impassable gulf that lay between Constance and +herself. Never, since she had come to Sanford, had +Constance appeared even to know that she existed. +This galled Rowena beyond expression. As a leader +among the high school girls she had deemed Constance +worth cultivating. She might as readily have +tried to bring down the North Star as to ingratiate +herself with this calm, lovely girl, and she knew it. +Here was something which she could not obtain. +Failing, she marked her as a victim for ridicule and +scorn. +</p> +<p> +The first act over at last, Rowena posted herself +in Mignon’s dressing room and proceeded to regale +the latter with a derisive, laughing account of her +fruitful wanderings among the cast. Mignon listened +to her with indifference. As she opened the +second act, her mind was on her rôle. She was +hardly aware that her tormentor had left the dressing +room until she became conscious that the high-pitched +tones had suddenly ceased. +</p> +<p> +Mignon proving altogether too non-committal to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199'></a>199</span> +suit her difficult fancy, Rowena had fared forth in +search of fresh adventure. The star dressing room, +occupied by Constance, lay two doors farther down +the corridor. In passing and repassing it that evening, +Rowena had vainly ransacked her guileful brain +for an excuse to invade it. Now as she left Mignon’s +dressing room she decided to put on an intrepid +front and pay Constance a call. Her large, +black eyes danced with pure malice as she doubled +a fist and pounded upon the closed door. +</p> +<p> +“Who is there?” came from within. The vigorous +tattoo had startled Constance. +</p> +<p> +For answer Rowena simply swung open the door +and stepped into the room. “I thought I’d pay you +a call,” she announced with cool complacence. +</p> +<p> +Seated before a low make-up shelf on which reposed +a mirror, Constance was engaged in readjusting +her coiffure, which had become slightly loosened +during the first act. Her blue eyes showed +wondering surprise as she turned in her chair to +face the intruder. From Jerry she had already +heard angry protests against this mischievous girl. +Quiet Constance now read fresh mischief in the intrusion. +She resolved to treat her uninvited guest +civilly. If possible she would try to keep her in the +dressing room until the second act was called. Better +that than allow her to further annoy the other +girls. As she had no change of costume to make +she was free to entertain her unbidden visitor. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200'></a>200</span> +</p> +<p> +“Sit down,” she evenly invited, neither cordial nor +cold. “How do you like the operetta?” +</p> +<p> +Rather taken aback by this placid reception, Rowena +dropped gracefully into a chair, her dark eyes +fixed speculatively on her hostess. Shrugging her +shoulders she gave a contemptuous little laugh as +she answered: “Oh, these amateur productions are +all alike. <em>Some</em>, of course, are more stupid than +others.” +</p> +<p> +“Do you include the poor Princess among the +more stupid?” asked Constance, smiling in spite of +herself at this patent attempt to be disagreeable. +</p> +<p> +“I don’t include it in anything. I don’t even +know what it’s all about. I only came to rehearsals +and here to amuse myself. Sanford is the deadest +town I was ever in and Sanford High School is a +regular kindergarten. I suppose you know who I +am, don’t you?” Rowena crested her auburn head +a trifle. +</p> +<p> +“Yes. You are Miss Farnham.” Constance made +reply in an enigmatic tone. +</p> +<p> +A threatening sparkle leaped to the other’s eyes. +She was beginning to resent Constance’s quiet attitude. +“If you knew who I was, why didn’t you +speak to me at the first rehearsal?” she sharply +launched. +</p> +<p> +“I merely knew you by sight. There are many +girls in Sanford High whom I do not know personally.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201'></a>201</span> +</p> +<p> +“But <em>I’m</em> different,” pursued Rowena. “My +father is very rich and I can have whatever I like. +You must know that. You ought to associate with +girls of your own class. Your aunt has lots of +money and can give you social position. That Geraldine +Macy is the only rich girl you ever go with. +All the others are just middle class. You’re foolish +to waste your time on Marjorie——” +</p> +<p> +Constance had received Rowena’s first words with +secret amusement. As she continued to listen her +inward smile changed to outward, rather. At mention +of Marjorie her self-imposed placidity flew to +the winds. “Kindly leave my dressing room,” she +ordered, her voice shaking with indignation. “Marjorie +Dean is my dearest friend. No one can belittle +her to me. Least of all, <em>you</em>.” Constance had +slowly risen, her blue eyes dark with the injury to +one she loved. +</p> +<p> +“I thought that would bring you to life,” laughed +Rowena, making no move to rise. As she sat there, +the light playing on her ruddy hair, her black eyes +agleam with tantalizing mirth, Constance could not +but wonder at her tigerish beauty. To quote Muriel, +she did resemble “a big, striped tiger.” +</p> +<p> +Without answering, Constance moved to the door +and opened it. She was about to step into the corridor +when Rowena sprang forward and clutched +her by the arm. “You milk-and-water baby, do you +think——” She did not finish. As Constance stepped +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202'></a>202</span> +over the threshold she came almost into collision +with Lawrence Armitage. His keen glance +immediately took in the situation. He saw Rowena’s +arm drop to her side. Brushing past Constance +like a whirlwind, she gained the shelter of +Mignon’s dressing room and disappeared. +</p> +<p> +“Hurry. You’ll miss your cue. I didn’t see you +in the wings and came to warn you. Run along. +I’ll see you later,” uttered Laurie rapidly. His +words sent Constance moving rapidly toward the +stairway. His lips tightened as he watched her disappear. +For a moment he stood still, then, turning, +took the same direction. +</p> +<p> +“Just a moment, Miss La Salle.” Seeking the +stairway at the close of the second act, Mignon was +halted by a troubled young man. “I don’t wish to +be disagreeable, but—Miss Farnham must either remain +in your dressing room during the third act or +go out in the audience. I am not blaming you. +You’ve sung your part splendidly to-night and I appreciate +your effort. Will you help me in this? We +don’t wish anything to occur to spoil the rest of the +operetta. I am sure you understand.” Appeal +looked out from his deeply blue eyes. +</p> +<p> +“Of course I’ll help you.” Mignon experienced +a sudden thrill of triumph. Lawrence Armitage was +actually asking her to do him a favor. Valiance +rose within her. She quite forgot her dread of +Rowena’s bluster. Flashing him her most fascinating +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203'></a>203</span> +smile, she held out her hand in token of good +faith. Inwardly she was hoping that Constance +might happen along to witness the tableau. Laurie +clasped it lightly. He was not in the least impressed. +“Thank you.” He wheeled abruptly and turned +away. +</p> +<p> +Mignon ran lightly down the stairs and to her +dressing room. Inspired by the recent interview, she +promptly accosted the ubiquitous Rowena, as she +lounged lazily in a chair. “You mustn’t go out of +the dressing room or upstairs again until the operetta +is over,” she dictated. “Laurie doesn’t want you +to. He just spoke to me about it. He has allowed +you a lot of liberty already, so I think you’d better +do as he says. It won’t be long now until——” +</p> +<p> +“So <em>Laurie</em> thinks he can order me about, does +he?” Rowena sprang to her feet in a rage. “<em>That</em> +for Laurie!” She snapped contemptuous fingers. +“This is your work. You’ve been talking about me +to him. But you’ll be sorry. I know a way——” +</p> +<p> +Her mood swiftly changing she threw back her +head and laughed. Resuming her chair she sat silently +eyeing Mignon with a mirthful malevolence +that sent a shiver of apprehension up and down +the French girl’s spine. Rowena had undoubtedly +been inspired with an idea that boded no good to +her. As she dressed for the third act she cast more +than one nervous glance at the smiling figure of insolence +in the chair. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204'></a>204</span> +</p> +<p> +Not a word further had been exchanged between +the two when the third act was called. Mignon half +expected to see Rowena rise and follow her up the +stairs, there to create a scene with Laurie that would +delay the rise of the curtain. Nothing of the kind +occurred, however, and the last act began and went +on to a triumphant end. +</p> +<p> +After the curtain had been rung down on the +final tableau, she made a dash for the stairs to encounter +Rowena ascending them. She had already +donned her evening cape and scarf. At sight of +Mignon she called out in the careless, good-humored +fashion she could assume at will: “Hurry up. I’m +going on out to the limousine. I need a breath of +fresh air.” +</p> +<p> +Partially convinced that Rowena had recovered +from her fit of temper, Mignon gladly hastened to +do her bidding. It was not until she began to look +about for her high-laced boots that she changed her +mind concerning her companion. They were nowhere +to be seen. “Rowena has hidden them, just to +be aggravating!” she exclaimed angrily. “That was +her revenge. But I’ll find them.” +</p> +<p> +After a frantic ten-minutes’ search she managed +to locate them, tucked into either sleeve of the long +fur coat she had worn. Thankful to find them, she +laced them in a hurry and proceeded to dress with all +speed. A repeated receding of footsteps and gay +voices from the direction of the stairway warned +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205'></a>205</span> +her that the dressing rooms were being rapidly deserted. +Those who had come to Riverview by railway +had only a short time after the performance +in which to catch the last train for the night. +</p> +<p> +Taking the stairs, two at a time, Mignon made a +rush for the stage door and on out into the cold, +starlit night. The first thing she noted was a large +part of the cast hurriedly boarding a street car for +the station. But where was the Farnham limousine +and Rowena? Where was the little line of automobiles +she had seen parked along the street when she +entered the theatre? Only one now remained, almost +a block farther up the street. Her heart beat +thankfully as she observed it. It looked like the +Farnham limousine. It was just like Rowena to +thus draw away a little distance in order to scare her +into thinking she had been left behind. +</p> +<p> +Racing toward it she saw that the chauffeur was +engaged in examining one of its tires. She heard a +cheery voice call out, “All right, Captain,” and her +knees grew weak. The voice did not sound like +that of James, the Farnhams’ chauffeur. Hoping +against hope she came abreast of it. Then her elfin +eyes grew wide with despair. It was not the Farnhams’ +car. It belonged to none other than the +Deans. +</p> +<p> +Heartsick, she was about to turn away when a +fresh young voice called out, “Mignon La Salle!” +Forgetting everything except that she was in difficulties, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206'></a>206</span> +she halted and managed to articulate, “Have +you seen Miss Farnham’s car?” +</p> +<p> +“Why, no,” came the wondering reply. “Have +you missed her?” +</p> +<p> +“I saw her go by in a limousine,” stated Constance +Stevens, from the tonneau of the Deans’ car. “She +was driving and the chauffeur was sitting beside +her.” +</p> +<p> +A belated light now dawned upon Mignon. She +understood that this was the fruition of Rowena’s +threat. She had purposely run off and left her, +knowing that she could not hope to catch the last +train. +</p> +<p> +In the dark of the tonneau, Constance gave Marjorie’s +hand a quick pressure. Its instant return +signified that her chum understood. Without hesitation +she called to the tragic little figure on the sidewalk, +“We’ll take you home, Mignon. It’s lucky +that General stopped to examine that tire.” Then +to her father, “This is Mignon La Salle, Father. +You know her, Mother.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes.” Mrs. Dean bowed in reserved fashion. +“Get into the tonneau with the girls, Miss La Salle. +We will see that you arrive safely at your own +door.” +</p> +<p> +The unexpected courtesy very nearly robbed the +stranded girl of speech. Stammering her thanks, +Mignon climbed ruefully into the tonneau and seated +herself by Marjorie. As the car began a loud purr, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207'></a>207</span> +preparatory to starting, her outraged feelings overcame +her and she burst into tears. “It was hateful +in her,” she sobbed, “perfectly hateful.” +</p> +<p> +“It was,” agreed Marjorie positively. “But I +wouldn’t cry about it. You are all right now.” +Then with a view to cheering the weeper, she added: +“You sang your part beautifully both nights, Mignon. +That’s something to be glad of. This little +trouble doesn’t really matter, since everything turned +out well.” +</p> +<p> +“It’s nice in you to say it,” quavered Mignon. +“But, oh, how I despise that hateful, hateful girl. +I’ll never, never speak to her again as long as I +live.” +</p> +<p> +Marjorie might easily have assured her that this +was a wise decision. Instead, she prudently refrained +from committing herself. Mignon’s mind +continued to dwell on her wrongs. She cried and +raged against her treacherous companion during +most of the ride home. Constance and Marjorie +were obliged to listen and administer judicious consolation. +It did not appear to sink deep. Mignon +was too self-centered to realize their generosity of +spirit. When they left her at the La Salle’s gate +she tried to put graciousness into her thanks, but +her thoughts were too firmly fixed upon faithless +Rowena and herself to appreciate the kindness she +had received. +</p> +<p> +“For once Mignon had to swallow a dose of her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208'></a>208</span> +own medicine,” commented Constance grimly, as +the Deans’ car sped away toward their home, where +Connie was to spend the night with Marjorie. +</p> +<p> +“She found it pretty hard to take,” mused Marjorie. +“It’s a good thing, though. This will end +Mignon’s friendship with Rowena, but it won’t +change her one little bit. I don’t believe she’ll ever +change.” +</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII—A PECULIAR REQUEST</h2> +<p> +“Four letters for you, Lieutenant. Hunt them,” +decreed Mrs. Dean, as Marjorie burst into the living +room, her cheeks rosy from the nipping kisses +of the winter air. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I know where they are.” Jubilantly overturning +the contents of her mother’s sewing basket, +she triumphantly drew them forth. Without bothering +to remove her wraps she plumped down at +her mother’s feet to revel in her spoils. +</p> +<p> +“Here’s one from Mary. I’ll read that last. +Here’s one from Harriet.” Opening it she read it +through and passed it to her mother. “Harriet’s +almost well again. Isn’t that good news? +Why——” she had opened the next—“it’s from +Mignon; a little note of thanks. Oh, Captain!” she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209'></a>209</span> +stared hard at the note. “I’ve discovered something. +Mignon’s not the horrid Observer. See. The writing +and paper and all are quite different. I’m sure +she isn’t. She’d never ask anyone else to write such +letters. It’s not her way.” +</p> +<p> +“Then that is good news, too,” smiled Mrs. Dean. +“I am also glad to know it. It is dreadful to misjudge +anyone.” +</p> +<p> +“I know that. I wish I knew who the Observer +was, too.” Marjorie sighed and took up the next +letter. As she read it she laughed outright. “It’s +from General, the old dear. Just listen: +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +“<span class='sc'>Esteemed Lieutenant</span>: +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +“Head up, forward march to the downtown +barracks. Report for stern duty at 4:30 to-morrow +(Thursday) P. M. Your most military +presence is requested to assist in conferring +with an official committee in a matter of great +importance to the parties concerned. Failure +to appear on time will be punished by court-martial. +Be warned not to try to ambush your +general in the living room to ascertain the facts +beforehand. You will only be captured and sent +to the guard house. +</p> +<p style='text-align:right; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-right:2em;;'>“Signed, </p> +<p style='text-align:right; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-right:2em;;'>“<span class='sc'>General Dean.</span>”</p> +<p> +“It’s a surprise,” nodded Marjorie. “I know it +is. Very well, I’ll show him that I’m not a bit curious. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210'></a>210</span> +I’ll tell him, though, that it’s not fair to +threaten a soldier. Do you know what it’s about, +Captain?” +</p> +<p> +“No; I am equally in the dark. I wouldn’t tell +you if I knew,” Mrs. Dean answered teasingly. +</p> +<p> +“I wouldn’t let you,” retorted Marjorie. “I have +to be loyal to my orders. Now I’ll read Mary’s letter +and then go and answer it. If I don’t answer +it now I might put it off.” +</p> +<p> +Laying the three notes aside, she busied herself +with the long letter from Mary, reading it aloud +with numerous exclamations and comments. True +to her word, she made no mention to her father of +his letter. Delighting to tease her, he hinted broadly +concerning it, but failed to draw Marjorie into questioning +him. +</p> +<p> +Nevertheless, it was a most curious young woman +who entered his office the following afternoon at +the exact moment of appointment. Her curiosity +was lost in wide-eyed amazement as she saw that +he was not alone. Seated in a chair beside his desk +was a stout, dark man of middle age, whose restless, +black eyes and small, dark mustache bespoke the +foreigner. But this was not the cause of her astonishment. +It lay in the fact that the man was +Mignon La Salle’s father. Both men rose as she entered, +Mr. La Salle bowing to her in the graceful +fashion of the Frenchman. +</p> +<p> +“Sit here, Lieutenant. Mr. La Salle wishes to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211'></a>211</span> +talk with you. He is kind enough to allow me to be +present at the conference.” +</p> +<p> +“Miss Marjorie, I have not had the pleasure of +meeting you before to-day. It is a very great pleasure. +I have already thanked your father for his +kindness to my daughter several evenings since. +Now I must thank you, too. But I wish also to ask +a far greater favor. My daughter, Mignon,” he +paused as though at a loss to proceed, “is a somewhat +peculiar girl. For many years she has had +no mother.” He sighed, then continuing, “I wish +her to be all that is good and fine. But I am a busy +man. I cannot take time to be with her as I would +desire. From my friend Harold Macy I have heard +many pleasant things of you and your friends. So I +have thought that it might be well to ask you if +you——” Again he paused, his black eyes riveted +on Marjorie, “if you will take an interest in my +daughter, so that I may feel that her associates are +of the best. +</p> +<p> +“I regret greatly her friendship with Miss Farnham. +But that is past. She has told me all, and I +have forbidden their further intimacy. Perhaps you +are already the friend of my Mignon? If so, it is, +indeed, well. If not, may I hope that you will soon +become such, indeed?” There was a trace of pleading +in his carefully enunciated speech with its +slightly foreign accent. +</p> +<p> +A queer, choking sensation gripped Marjorie’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212'></a>212</span> +throat. She was immeasurably touched. Happy in +her General’s love, she glimpsed something of the +tender motive, which had actuated this stern man +of business to plead for his daughter’s welfare. +</p> +<p> +“I am willing to be Mignon’s friend, if she is +willing to be mine,” she answered with grave sweetness. +“I think I may speak for my friends, also.” +</p> +<p> +“Thank you. She will respond, I am sure.” A +faint tightening of his thin lips gave hint that he +would see to the exaction of that response. “It will +be a pleasure to invite you to dine with us to-morrow +evening,” he added. La Salle Père evidently intended +to allow no grass to grow under his feet. +</p> +<p> +“Thank you. May I go, General?” Marjorie’s +eyes sought her father’s. Though she had maintained +a gracious composure, he guessed that she was +far from easy over this queer turn of affairs. There +was a faintly martyred look in her brown eyes. +</p> +<p> +“Yes,” he said in a steady, reassuring tone. +“Your General approves.” He flashed her a mischievous +glance. +</p> +<p> +“Then you may expect me.” Marjorie rose and +offered her hand to the anxious father. “I must go +now,” she said. “I am very glad to have met you, +Mr. La Salle.” +</p> +<p> +Once outside the office she drew a long breath of +dismay. “I’m quite sure of most of the girls,” was +her reflection, “but what, oh, what will Jerry say?” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213'></a>213</span>CHAPTER XXIV—AN UNEXPECTED CALAMITY</h2> +<p> +Jerry had a great deal to say. She was so justly +wrathful she very nearly cried. “It’s the worst thing +I ever heard of,” she sputtered. “I wish we’d never +revived that old operetta. Then Mignon wouldn’t +have sung in it and got left at the switch, and you +wouldn’t be asking us to make martyrs of ourselves. +After all you’ve said about being through with Mignon, +too! It’s a shame!” +</p> +<p> +“But just suppose her father had come to you and +asked you to help her, what would you have done?” +pleaded Marjorie. +</p> +<p> +“Told him Mignon’s history and advised him to +lock her up,” snapped Jerry. “I hope—— Oh, I +don’t know what I hope. I can’t think of anything +horrible enough to hope.” +</p> +<p> +“Poor Jeremiah. It’s too bad.” Marjorie’s little +hand slipped itself into the plump girl’s fingers. +“You know you’d have done just as I did. I had +quite a long talk with Mignon last night. After dinner +her father left us to ourselves. It wasn’t exactly +pleasant. She would say mean things about Rowena. +Still, she said she’d like to try again and +wished that we would all help her. So I said for all +of us that we would. You won’t back out, will you, +Jerry?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214'></a>214</span> +</p> +<p> +“I don’t know. Wait a week or two and see what +she does, then I can tell better. You’ve got to show +me. I mean, I must be convinced.” Jerry wrinkled +her nose at Marjorie and giggled. Her ruffled good +humor was smoothing itself down. +</p> +<p> +“That means, you <em>will</em> help her,” was Marjorie’s +fond translation. “Constance is willing, too. I am +sure of Irma and Harriet, but Susan and Muriel are +doubtful. Still, I think I can win them over if I +tell them that you are with me in our plan.” +</p> +<p> +“There’s just this much about it, Marjorie.” +Jerry spoke with unusual seriousness. “Mignon will +have to play fair or I’ll drop her with a bang. Just +like that. The first time I find her trying any of +her deceitful tricks will be the last with me. Remember, +I mean what I say. If anything like that +happens, don’t ask me to overlook it, for I won’t. +Not even to please you, and I’d rather please <em>you</em> +than anybody else I know.” +</p> +<p> +“I’ll remember,” laughed Marjorie. She was not +greatly impressed by Jerry’s declaration. The stout +girl was apt to take a contrary stand, merely for the +sake of variety. She had expected that Jerry would +scold roundly, then give in with a final threatening +grumble. +</p> +<p> +Susan and Muriel she found even harder to convince +of Mignon’s repentance than Jerry. Muriel +was especially obstinate. “I’ll speak to Mignon,” +she stipulated, “but I won’t ask her to my house or +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215'></a>215</span> +go any place with her. Now that we’ve made over +five hundred dollars out of the operetta for the library, +you know we’ve been talking about getting up +a club. Of course, she’ll want to be in it. But she +sha’n’t.” +</p> +<p> +“Then there’s no use in trying to help her,” said +Marjorie calmly, “if we don’t include her in our +work and our good times.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s precisely what you said last year,” retorted +Muriel. “You invited her to your party and +she nearly broke it up. After that I wonder that you +can even dream of trusting her. I’ve known her +longer than you, Marjorie. When we all went to +grammar school together she was always the disturber. +She used to fight with us and then come +sliding around to make up. She’d promise to be +good, but she never kept her word for long. +</p> +<p> +“Once she behaved pretty well for three months +and we began to like her a little. Then one day +some of us went to the woods on a picnic. We took +our luncheon and spread a tablecloth on the grass. +When we had all the eats spread out on the tablecloth +and sat down around it, Mignon got mad because +Susan said something to me that made me +laugh. We happened to look at her, but we weren’t +talking about her. She thought so, though. She +began sputtering at us like a firecracker. The more +we all tried to calm her the madder she got. Before +we could stop her she caught the tablecloth in both +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216'></a>216</span> +hands and gave it a hard jerk. You can imagine +what happened! All our nice eats were jumbled together +into the grass. The ants got into them and +we had to throw nearly everything away. She +didn’t stop to help pick up things. She rushed off +home and none of us spoke to her for the rest of the +year. That’s why I can’t believe in her repentance. +Sooner or later she’s bound to upset things again, +just as she did that time.” +</p> +<p> +Marjorie could not resist laughing a little at Muriel’s +tragic tale of a woodland disaster. “I can’t +blame you for feeling as you do,” she said, “but I +must keep my word to her father. It means so +much to him. Being in the operetta has given her +a little start. Perhaps she’s begun to see that it pays +to do well. She knows now how it feels to be treated +badly. It must remind her of some of the mean +things she’s done. If she’s ever going to change, the +time has come. But if no one believes in her, then +she’ll get discouraged and be worse than ever. Connie +is willing to help. I’d be ashamed to refuse after +that. Even Jerry says she’ll consider it.” +</p> +<p> +“Connie is a perfect angel, and Jerry is a goose,” +declared Muriel, flushing rather guiltily. It was difficult +to continue to combat Marjorie’s plan in the +face of Constance’s nobility of spirit. Constance +had been the chief sufferer at Mignon’s hands. Reminded +of this, Muriel weakened. “I suppose I +ought to get in line with Connie,” she admitted. “I’d +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217'></a>217</span> +feel pretty small if I didn’t. I can’t afford to let +Jerry beat me, either.” +</p> +<p> +Muriel’s objections thus overruled, Susan proved +less hard to convince. Once more the reform party +banded itself together to the performance of good +works. Smarting from the effects of Rowena’s cowardly +spite, Mignon was quite willing to be taken +up again by so important a set of girls as that to +which Marjorie belonged. It pleased her not a little +to know that she had gained a foothold that Rowena +could never hope to win. Then, too, her father had +taken a hand in her affairs. He had sternly informed +her that she must about-face and do better. +Relief at being plucked from a disagreeable situation, +rather than gratitude toward her preservers, +had predominated her feelings on the eventful night +at Riverview. Fear of her father’s threat to send +her away to a convent school if she did not show +rapid signs of improvement made her pause. +</p> +<p> +Returning from his business trip, Mr. La Salle +had interviewed first William, the chauffeur, then +Mignon. From an indulgent parent he became suddenly +transformed into a stern inquisitor, before +whose wrath Mignon broke down and haltingly confessed +the truth. As a result he had forbidden her +further acquaintance with Rowena. Reminded +afresh of his parental duty, he had pondered long, +then through the kindly offices of Mr. Dean, arranged +the meeting with Marjorie. Thus Mignon’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218'></a>218</span> +affairs had been readjusted and she had been forced +to agree to follow the line of good conduct he had +stretched for her. +</p> +<p> +It was a distinct relief, however, to Marjorie and +her friends to find that Mignon was content to be +merely on equitable terms. She did not try to force +herself upon them, though she received whatever +advances they made with an amiability quite unusual +to her. They were immensely amused, however, at +her frigid ignoring of Rowena Farnham. Her revenge +consummated, Rowena decided to re-assume +her sway over her unwilling follower. Mignon +fiercely declined to be reinstated and the two held +a battle royal in which words became sharpest arrows. +Later, Rowena was plunged into fresh rage +by the news that Mignon had been taken up by the +very girls she had over and over again disparaged. +</p> +<p> +Determined not to be beaten, she continued to +waylay Mignon as she went to and from school. +Changing her bullying tactics, she next tried coaxing. +But Mignon maintained her air of virtuous +frigidity and took an especial delight in snubbing +the girl she had once feared. It also gave her infinite +pleasure to paint Rowena in exceedingly dark colors +to whomever would listen to her grievances. +Much of this came in round-about fashion to the +reformers. They disapproved of it intensely, but +held their peace rather than undo the little good they +hoped they had already accomplished. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219'></a>219</span> +</p> +<p> +Among her schoolmates the account of Mignon’s +near misfortune was received with varying degrees +of interest. A few were sympathetically disposed; +others merely laughed. Rowena, however, lost +caste. Neither her costly clothes, her caustic wit +nor her impudently fascinating personality could +cover the fact that she had done a treacherous and +contemptible deed. The fact that she had left a +young girl stranded at midnight in a strange town +did not add to her doubtful popularity. Quick to +discover this state of affairs, she realized that she +had gone a step too far. There was only one way +in which she might redeem herself and that lay in +the direction of basket ball. +</p> +<p> +February was speedily living out his short, +changeable life. The third of the four games between +the sophomore-junior teams was to be played +on the last Saturday afternoon of the month, which +fell on the twenty-seventh. Thus far each side had +won a game. Rowena decreed that the two games +yet to be played should go to the sophomores. She +would play as she had never played before. Nothing +should stand in her way. She would lead the +sophomores on to glory and the acclamation of her +class would cleanse her blurred escutcheon. Once +she had re-established her power she would make +Mignon sorry. +</p> +<p> + Fortunately for her plans, the members of her +team had showed no great amount of prejudice +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220'></a>220</span> +against her since the affair of the operetta. They +treated her cordially enough during practice and +applauded her clever playing. Shrewd to a degree, +she divined instantly that they cherished no special +regard for her. They were simply using her as a +means to the end. Knowing her value as a player, +they were egging her on to do well because of their +hope of victory in the next two games. She did +not doubt that when the season was over there would +be a general falling-off in their cordiality unless she +so greatly distinguished herself as to win their ungrudging +admiration. +</p> +<p> +Alas for her dream of power, when the third +game came off between the two teams, it was the +juniors who carried off the palm with a score +of 26-14 in their favor. What galled her +most was the remarkably brilliant playing of +Marjorie Dean. If there lingered a doubt in +the mind of Miss Davis regarding Marjorie’s ability +to play basket ball, her work on the floor that Saturday +afternoon must have completely discounted +that doubt. What Miss Davis thought when, from +the gallery, she watched the clever playing of the +girl she had endeavored to dismiss from the team, +was something which was recorded only on her own +brain. It was noted by several pairs of watchful +eyes that she did not applaud the victors. She had +not forgiven them for the difficulties into which they +had plunged her on that fateful afternoon. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221'></a>221</span> +</p> +<p> +Losing the game to the enemy made matters distinctly +mortifying for Rowena. Among themselves, +her teammates gloomily conceded that they had +over-rated her as a player. Though they made some +effort to conceal their resentment, their cordiality +became less apparent. This second defeat precluded +all hope of doing more than tieing the score in the +one game still to be played. They needed Rowena’s +help to bring about that result. Therefore, they +dared not express themselves openly. It may be recorded +here that the ideals of the four sophomore +players were no higher than those of Rowena. +Their attitude toward her was glaringly selfish and +they were possessed of little loyalty. +</p> +<p> +The final game was set for the thirteenth of +March. Doggedly bent on escaping a whitewashing, +the sophomores devoted themselves to zealous practice. +So insistently frequent were their demands +for the use of the gymnasium that the junior team +were obliged to make equally insistent protest +against their encroachment. +</p> +<p> +“I am really glad that this next game is to be the +last,” remarked Marjorie to her teammates one afternoon +as they were preparing to leave the dressing +room after practice. “Basket ball hasn’t seemed the +same old game this year. Perhaps I’m outgrowing +my liking for it, but really we’ve had so much +trouble about it that I long for victory and peace.” +</p> +<p> +“It’s not the game,” contested Muriel. “It’s those +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222'></a>222</span> +sophs with Rowena Farnham leading them on. +Why, even when Mignon was continually fussing +with us we never had any trouble about getting the +gym for practice. Oh, well, one week from to-morrow +will tell the story. If we win it will be a three +to one victory. We can’t lose now. All the sophs +can do is to tie the score.” +</p> +<p> +“Where were our subs to-day?” demanded Daisy +Griggs. “I didn’t see either of them.” +</p> +<p> +“Harriet couldn’t stay for practice. She was going +to a tea with her mother,” informed Susan. “I +don’t know where Lucy Warner was. I didn’t see +her in school, either.” +</p> +<p> +“She must be sick. She hasn’t been in school for +almost a week,” commented Muriel. “She is the +queerest-acting girl. You’d think to look at her that +she hated herself and everybody. She makes me +think of a picture of an anarchist I once saw in a +newspaper. When she does come to practice she just +sits with her chin in her hands and glowers. I can’t +understand how she ever happened to come out of +her grouch long enough to make the team.” +</p> +<p> +“She’s awfully distant,” agreed Marjorie dispiritedly. +“I have tried to be nice to her, but it’s no +use. My, how the wind howls! Listen.” Going to +the window of the dressing room, she peered out. +“It’s a dreadful day. The walks are solid sheets of +ice. The wind blew so hard I could scarcely keep +on my feet this noon.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223'></a>223</span> +</p> +<p> +“I fell down twice,” giggled Susan Atwell. “It +didn’t hurt me much. I scraped one hand on a +piece of sharp ice, but I’m still alive.” +</p> +<p> +“Be careful going down the steps,” warned Daisy +Griggs, ever a youthful calamity howler. +</p> +<p> +“Don’t croak, Daisy. If you keep on someone +will take a tumble just because you mentioned it,” +laughed Muriel. “We can’t afford that with the +game so near.” +</p> +<p> +Dressed at last, their paraphernalia carefully +stowed away, the team trooped from the gymnasium +and on to their locker room. “I wish I had worn my +fur coat,” lamented Muriel. “I’ll surely freeze in +my tracks. Are you ready, girls? Do hurry. I +am anxious to face the wind and get it over with. I +think I’ll take the car home.” +</p> +<p> +“Ugh!” shuddered Susan. Issuing from the high +school building a blast of piercing air struck her full +in the face. “We’ll be blown away before we get +down the steps.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, come along, Susie,” urged Muriel laughingly. +“Don’t mind a little thing like that. Look +at me. Here goes.” Muriel valiantly essayed the +first icy step. A fresh gust of wind assailing her, +the hand holding her muff sought her face to protect +it. +</p> +<p> +How it happened no one quite knew. A concerted +scream went up from four throats as Muriel suddenly +left her feet to go bumping and sliding down +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224'></a>224</span> +the long flight of ice-bound steps. She struck the +walk in a heap and lay still. +</p> +<p> +“Muriel!” Forgetting the peril of the steps, Marjorie +took them heedlessly, but safely. A faint +moan issued from Muriel’s lips as she knelt beside +her. Muriel moaned again, but tried to raise herself +to a sitting posture. She fell back with a fresh +groan. +</p> +<p> +“Where are you hurt?” Marjorie slipped a supporting +arm under her. By this time the others had +safely made the descent and were gathered about the +two. +</p> +<p> +“It’s my right shoulder and arm. I’m afraid my +arm is broken,” gasped Muriel, her face white with +pain. +</p> +<p> +“Let me see.” Marjorie tenderly felt of the injured +member. “Do I hurt you much?” she quavered +solicitously. +</p> +<p> +“Not—much. I guess it’s—not—broken. It’s my +shoulder that hurts most.” +</p> +<p> +Several persons had now gathered to the scene. +A man driving past in an automobile halted his car. +Leaping from the machine he ran to the scene. +“Someone hurt?” was his crisp question. “Can I +be of service?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, if you would.” Marjorie’s face brightened. +“Miss Harding fell down those steps. She’s badly +hurt.” +</p> +<p> +“Where does she live? I’ll take her home,” offered +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225'></a>225</span> +the kindly motorist. Lifting Muriel in his +arms he carried her to the car and gently deposited +her in its tonneau. “Perhaps you’d better come with +her,” he suggested. +</p> +<p> +“Thank you, I will. Good-bye, girls. Go on over +to my house and wait for me. I’ll be there in a little +while.” Lifting her hand to the three frightened +girls, who had advanced upon the machine with sundry +other curious pedestrians, Marjorie gave Muriel’s +rescuer the Hardings’ address, climbed into the +car and slammed the door shut. +</p> +<p> +“Poor Muriel,” wailed Daisy Griggs, as the car +rolled away. “I told her to be careful. I hope she +isn’t hurt much. And the game next week!” +</p> +<p> +Three pairs of startled eyes met and conveyed the +same dismaying thought. What would the team do +without Captain Muriel? +</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXV—A STRENUOUS HIKE TO A TRYING ENGAGEMENT</h2> +<p> +Everybody knows the trite saying: “It never +rains but that it pours.” The disasters of the following +week seemed quite in accord with it. Muriel’s +spectacular slide down the ice steps brought +her a broken collarbone. The three anxious girls +had awaited news of Muriel at Marjorie’s home +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226'></a>226</span> +had hardly taken their leave when the ring of the +postman brought her fresh misery. Little knowing +what he did, that patient individual handed Marjorie +a letter which filled her with angry consternation. +Why in the world had the hated Observer +come to life again at such a time? +</p> +<p> +Without waiting to read the unwelcome epistle +in her Captain’s presence, Marjorie ripped open the +envelope with a savage hand. This time the unknown +was detestably brief, writing merely: +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +“<span class='sc'>Miss Dean</span>: +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +“I hope you lose the game next Saturday. +You are more of a snob than ever. Defeat will +do you good. Prepare to meet it. +</p> +<p style='text-align:right; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-right:2em;;'>“<span class='sc'>The Observer.</span>”</p> +<p> +“Oh!” Marjorie dashed the offending letter to +the floor. Muriel’s accident was bad enough. It +had not needed this to complete her dejection. Recapturing +the spiteful message she was about to +tear it into bits. On second reflection she decided to +keep it and add it to her obnoxious collection. +Something whispered to her that the identity of the +tormenting Observer would yet be revealed to her. +</p> +<p> +Facing the lamentable knowledge that Muriel +must be counted out of the coming contest, Harriet +replaced her. This in itself provided a grain of +comfort. Harriet was a skilful player and would +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227'></a>227</span> +work for the success of the team with all her energy. +The other four players congratulated themselves on +thus having such able support. Due to Muriel’s +absence, Marjorie had been asked to assume temporary +captainship. Her mind now at ease by reason +of Harriet’s good work, she gave her most conscientious +attention to practice. +</p> +<p> +Matters skimmed along with commendable +smoothness until the Wednesday before the game. +Then she encountered a fresh set-back. Word came +to her that Susan Atwell had succumbed to the +dreaded tonsilitis that all through the winter had +been going its deadly round in Sanford. On receipt +of the news she recalled that for the past two days +Susan had complained of sore throat. She had +given it no serious thought, however. Her own +throat had also troubled her a trifle since that stormy +day when Muriel had come to grief. There was +but one thing to do. Put Lucy Warner in Susan’s +position. Her heart almost skipped a beat as she +faced the fact that Lucy, too, had been absent from +school for over a week. Someone had said that +Lucy was also ill. Marjorie reproached herself for +not having inquired more closely about the peculiar +green-eyed junior. “I ought to have gone to see +her,” she reflected. “I’ll go to-night. Perhaps she +is almost well by this time, and can come back to +school in time for the game. If she can’t, then I’d +better ask Mignon to play in Susan’s place.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228'></a>228</span> +</p> +<p> +School over for the day she accosted Jerry and +Irma with, “I can only walk as far as the corner +with you to-night. I’m going to see Lucy Warner. +She’s been sick for over a week. Did you ever hear +of such bad luck as the team has been having lately? +I feel so discouraged and tired out. I don’t believe +I’ll try for the team next year.” Marjorie’s usually +sprightliness was entirely missing. Her voice had +taken on a weary tone and her brown eyes had lost +their pretty sparkle. +</p> +<p> +“You’d better go straight home and take care of +<em>yourself</em>,” gruffly advised Jerry, “or you won’t be fit +to play on the team Saturday.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I’m all right.” Marjorie made an attempt +to look cheerful. “I’m not feeling ill. My throat +is a little bit sore. I caught cold that day Muriel +fell down the steps. But it’s nothing serious. I +shall go to bed at eight o’clock to-night and have a +long sleep. I’m just tired; not sick. I must leave +you here. Good-bye. See you to-morrow.” Nodding +brightly she left the two and turned down a +side street. +</p> +<p> +“See us to-morrow,” sniffed Jerry. “Humph! I +doubt it, unless we go to her house. She’s about +half sick now. It’s the first time I ever saw her look +that way. She’s so brave, though. She’d fight to +keep up if she were dying.” +</p> +<p> +Meanwhile, as she plodded down the snowy street +on her errand of mercy, Marjorie was, indeed, fighting +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229'></a>229</span> +to make herself believe that she was merely a little +tired. Despite her languor, generosity prompted +her to stop in passing a fruit store and purchase an +attractive basket filled with various fruits likely to +tempt the appetite of a sick person. She wondered +if Lucy would resent the offering. She was such +a queer, self-contained little creature. +</p> +<p> +“What a dingy house!” was her thought, as she +floundered her way through a stretch of deep snow +to Lucy’s unpretentious home. Detached from its +neighbors, it stood unfenced, facing a bit of field, +which the small boys of Sanford used in summer +as a ball ground. It was across this field that Marjorie +was obliged to wend a course made difficult +by a week’s fall of snow that blanketed it. An irregular +path made by the passing and repassing of +someone’s feet led up to the door. It appeared that +the Warners were either too busy or else unable to +clear their walk. +</p> +<p> +Finding no bell, Marjorie removed her glove and +knocked on the weather-stained front door. It was +opened by a frail little woman with a white, tired +face and faded blue eyes. She stared in amazement +at the trim, fur-coated girl before her, whose attractive +appearance betokened affluence. “How do +you do?” she greeted in evident embarrassment. +</p> +<p> +“Good afternoon. Are you Mrs. Warner?” Marjorie +asked brightly. “I have come to see Lucy. +How is she to-day? I am Marjorie Dean.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230'></a>230</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, are you Miss Dean? I mailed a letter she +wrote you several days ago. Come in, please,” invited +the woman cordially. “I am very glad to see +you. I am sure Lucy will be. She is better but still +in bed. Will you take off your wraps?” +</p> +<p> +“No, thank you. I can’t stay very long. I feel +guilty at not coming to see her sooner. What is +the trouble with her—tonsilitis? So many people in +Sanford are having it.” Marjorie looked slightly +mystified over Mrs. Warner’s reference to the letter. +She had received no letter from Lucy. She +decided, however, that she would ask Lucy. +</p> +<p> +“No; she was threatened with pneumonia, but +managed to escape with a severe cold. I will take +you to her. She is upstairs.” +</p> +<p> +Following Mrs. Warner up a narrow stairway +that led up from a bare, cheerless sitting room, Marjorie +was forced to contrast the dismal place with +the Deans’ luxurious living room. Why was it, she +sadly pondered, that she had been given so much and +Lucy so little? The Warners’ home was even more +poverty-stricken than the little gray house in which +Constance Stevens had once lived. Then she had +deplored that same contrast between herself and +Constance. +</p> +<p> +“Miss Dean has come to see you, Lucy,” said +Mrs. Warner. Marjorie had followed the woman +into a plain little bedroom, equally bare and desolate. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231'></a>231</span> +</p> +<p> +“You!” Glimpsing Marjorie behind her mother, +Lucy sat up in bed, her green eyes growing greener +with horrified disapproval. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, I.” Marjorie flushed as she strove to answer +playfully. That single unfriendly word of +greeting had wounded her deeply. The very fact +that, half sick herself, she had waded through the +snow to call on Lucy gave her a fleeting sense of +injury. She tried to hide it by quickly saying: “I +must apologize for not visiting you sooner. Our +team has had so many mishaps, I have been busy +trying to keep things going. I brought you some +fruit to cheer you up.” +</p> +<p> +“I will leave you girls to yourselves,” broke in +Mrs. Warner. As she went downstairs she wondered +at her daughter’s ungracious behavior to this +lovely young friend. Lucy was such a strange child. +Even she could not always fathom her odd ways. +</p> +<p> +“Why have you come to see me?” demanded +Lucy, hostile and inhospitable. All the time her +lambent green eyes remained fixed upon Marjorie. +</p> +<p> +“Why shouldn’t I come to see you?” Marjorie +gave a nervous little laugh. Privately she wished +she had not come. Embarrassment at the unfriendly +reception drove the question of the letter from her +mind. +</p> +<p> +“You never noticed me in school,” pursued Lucy +relentlessly. “Why should you now?” +</p> +<p> +“You would never let me be friends with you,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232'></a>232</span> +was Marjorie’s honest retort. “I’ve tried ever so +many times. I have always admired you. You are +so bright and make such brilliant recitations.” +</p> +<p> +“What does that matter when one is poor and +always out of things?” came the bitter question. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, being poor doesn’t count. It’s the real you +that makes the difference. When I was a little girl +we were quite poor. We aren’t rich now; just in +comfortable circumstances. If I chose my friends +for their money I’d be a very contemptible person. +You mustn’t look at matters in that light. It’s +wrong. It shuts you away from all the best things +in life; like love and friendship and contentment. I +wish you had said this to me long ago. Then we +would have understood each other and been friends.” +</p> +<p> +“I can never be your friend,” stated the girl solemnly. +</p> +<p> +“Why not?” Marjorie’s eyes widened. “Perhaps +I ought not to ask you that. It sounded conceited. +I can’t blame you if you don’t like me. There are +many persons I can’t like, either. Sometimes I try +to like them, but I seldom succeed,” she made frank +admission. +</p> +<p> +“You are a puzzling girl,” asserted Lucy, her +green eyes wavering under Marjorie’s sweetly naïve +confession. “Either you are very deceitful, or else +I have made a terrible mistake.” She suddenly lay +back in bed, half hiding her brown head in the pillow. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233'></a>233</span> +</p> +<p> +“I would rather think that you had made a mistake.” +The rose in Marjorie’s cheeks deepened. “I +try never to be deceitful.” +</p> +<p> +Lucy did not reply, but buried her face deeper in +the pillow. An oppressive silence ensued, during +which Marjorie racked her brain as to what she had +best say next. What ailed Lucy? She was even +queerer than Marjorie had supposed. +</p> +<p> +With a convulsive jerk Lucy suddenly sat upright. +Marjorie was relieved to observe no indication +of tears in the probing green eyes. She had +feared Lucy might be crying. Why she should cry +was a mystery, however. +</p> +<p> +“If you had made a mistake about someone and +then done a perfectly dreadful thing and afterward +found out that it was all a mistake, what would you +do?” Lucy queried with nervous intensity. +</p> +<p> +“I—that’s a hard question to answer. It would +depend a good deal on what I had done and who +the person was.” +</p> +<p> +“But if the person didn’t know that it was you +who did it, would you tell them?” continued Lucy. +</p> +<p> +“If I had hurt them very much, I think my conscience +would torment me until I did,” Marjorie said +slowly. “It would be hard, of course, but it would +be exactly what I deserved. But why do you ask me +such strange things?” +</p> +<p> +“Because I must know. I’ve done something +wrong and I’ve got to face it. I’ve just found out +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234'></a>234</span> +that I have a very lively conscience. What you said +is true. I deserve to suffer. I am the Observer.” +Lucy dropped back on her pillow, her long, black +lashes veiling her peculiarly colored eyes. +</p> +<p> +Undiluted amazement tied Marjorie’s tongue. +Staring at the pitifully white, small face against the +pillow, she came into a flashing, emotional knowledge +of the embittered spirit that had prompted the +writing of those vexatious letters. “You poor little +thing!” she cried out compassionately. The next +instant her soft hands held one of Lucy’s in a caressing +clasp. +</p> +<p> +Lucy’s heavy lids lifted. “I don’t wonder your +friends love you,” she said somberly. Her free +hand came to rest lightly on Marjorie’s arm. “I +know now that I could have been your friend, too.” +</p> +<p> +“But you shall be from this minute on,” Marjorie +replied, her pretty face divinely tender. “You’ve +proved your right to be. It was brave in you to tell +me. If you hadn’t been the right sort of girl you +might have decided to like me and kept what you +told me to yourself. I would never have known the +difference. I am glad that I do know. It takes away +the shadow. I understand that you must have suffered +a great deal. I blame myself, too. I’m afraid +I’ve thought too much about my own pleasure and +seemed snobbish.” +</p> +<p> +“I wouldn’t have done it, only one Sunday when +you were walking along with that Miss Macy and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235'></a>235</span> +that girl who used to live at your house, I met you +and you didn’t speak to me. All three of you were +dressed beautifully. It made me feel so bad. I +was wearing an old gray suit, and I thought you +cut me on account of my clothes. I know now that +I was wrong. That was the beginning of the mistake. +Then when you girls had those expensive +basket ball suits made, I thought you chose them +just to be mean to me. Of course, I didn’t expect +to be invited to your parties, but it hurt me to be +passed by all the time in school.” +</p> +<p> +“I never saw you that day, and I’m sure we never +thought about how it might look to others when we +ordered our suits. You’ve taught me a lesson, Lucy. +One ought to be made careful about such things in a +large school. Someone is sure to be made unhappy. +Now we must put all the bad things away for good +and think only of the nice ones. When you get well +you are going to have some good times with me. +My friends will like you, too. No one must ever +know about—well, about the mistake.” +</p> +<p> +But Lucy could not thus easily take things for +granted. Remorse had set in and she felt that she +ought to be punished for her fault. After considerable +cheerful persuasion, Marjorie brought her +into an easier frame of mind. When finally she +said good-bye she left behind her a most humble +Observer who had given her word thereafter to observe +life from a happier angle. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236'></a>236</span> +</p> +<p> +Once away from the house a feeling of heavy +lassitude overwhelmed the patient Lieutenant. It +had been a strenuous hike to a trying engagement. +Her head swam dizzily as she stumbled through the +drifted field to better walking. Her wet shoes and +stockings added to her misery. How her cheeks +burned and how dreadfully her throat ached! Was +Jerry’s prediction about to be fulfilled? Was she +only tired out, or had actual sickness descended upon +her just when she needed most to be well? +</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVI—“TURN ABOUT IS FAIR PLAY”</h2> +<p> +“What did I tell you yesterday?” saluted Jerry +Macy, the instant she found opportunity to address +Irma Linton the next morning. “Marjorie’s sick. +Her mother telephoned me before I started for +school. She came from Lucy Warner’s yesterday +so sick she couldn’t see straight. Her mother put +her to bed and sent for the doctor. She has tonsilitis. +Isn’t that hard luck?” +</p> +<p> +“I should say so. Poor Marjorie. I was afraid +of that yesterday. You know she said her throat +was sore.” Irma looked unutterably sympathetic. +“And the game on Saturday, too. But it can’t be +played with Marjorie, Muriel and Susan all laid up. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237'></a>237</span> +That leaves only Rita, Daisy and Harriet on the +team.” +</p> +<p> +“The sophomores will have to call it off,” decreed +Jerry. “It’s only fair. The juniors did that very +thing when two of the sophs were sick.” +</p> +<p> +“You’d better see Ellen this noon or before, if +you can, and tell her,” Irma advised. “Then she +can break it to the sophs to-day.” +</p> +<p> +“I’m going to wait for her in the senior locker +room this noon,” nodded Jerry. “Then she can post +a notice at once. Now I must beat it for Cæsar +recitation. I wished he’d been killed in his first battle. +It would have saved me a good deal of bother.” +Jerry’s jolly chuckle belied her vengeful comment +on the valorous general. +</p> +<p> +“You don’t say so!” exclaimed Ellen when Jerry +broke the news to her. “That <em>is</em> too bad. Certainly +the game will have to be postponed. I’ll write a notice +instantly asking the sophs to meet me in the +gym at four this afternoon. I must call up on the +’phone and inquire for Marjorie. Dear little girl, +I wish I could do a great deal more for her. Thank +you for telling me, Jerry.” Ellen hurried off to +write and then post the notice before going home +to luncheon. Her lips wore a quizzical smile. She +wondered what the sophomore team would say when +she told them. +</p> +<p> +She had just finished tucking it into the bulletin +board when Nellie Simmons, a member of the sophomore +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238'></a>238</span> +team, paused curiously to read it. The very +fact that it came from Ellen’s hands indicated basket +ball news. “Hmm!” she ejaculated as she took +in its contents. “What’s the matter now?” +</p> +<p> +“I’ll tell you at four o’clock,” Ellen flashed back. +With a slight lift of her shoulders, she walked away. +Nellie’s tone had verged on the insolent. She had +hardly disappeared when Nellie faced about and hurried +toward the sophomore locker room, bumping +smartly against Rowena Farnham, who was in the +act of leaving it. +</p> +<p> +“Look out!” cried Rowena. “What are you trying +to do? I’m not made of iron.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Rowena, I was hurrying to find you!” exclaimed +Nellie. “Ellen Seymour just posted a notice +on the bulletin board for the team to meet her +in the gym at four o’clock. I think I know what it’s +about. Marjorie Dean is sick. I heard Jerry Macy +tell Esther Lind. You know what that means to +the junior team, with two others away from it. I’m +sure Ellen’s going to ask us to postpone the game.” +</p> +<p> +“I’ll forgive you for almost knocking me down,” +laughed Rowena, her black eyes glowing. “So Miss +Seymour thinks we will postpone the game to please +her and that goody-goody Dean girl. I’ll see that +she gets a surprise. Lucky you came to me. I can +fix things before I go home to luncheon. I’m going +to have a talk with Miss Davis.” +</p> +<p> +Leaving Nellie plunged in admiration at her daring +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239'></a>239</span> +tactics, Rowena sped up the basement stairs and +down the corridor toward Miss Davis’s tiny office. +“How are you, Miss Davis?” was her offhand greeting. +“I’ve come to you for help.” +</p> +<p> +Miss Davis viewed her visitor with mild disapproval. +“I don’t care to implicate myself in any +more of your tangles, Rowena,” she declared firmly. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, this isn’t entirely my affair. It’s about +basket ball, though. That Dean girl is sick and Miss +Seymour is going to ask us to postpone the game just +on her account. Of course, we’ll say ‘no,’ but Miss +Seymour won’t mind that unless you stand by us. +It’s pure favoritism. Miss Harding and Miss Atwell +are sick, too. Even so, there are three of the team +left. If you say the game must go on, it will give +poor Mignon a chance to sub in the Dean girl’s +place. That Esther Lind played on the sophomore +team last year. She could fill the other position and +we could have the game. Miss Seymour knows that, +but she won’t pay any attention to it. Mignon ought +to have been chosen in the first place. You owe it +to her to do this for her. Besides, it will give you a +good chance to even things with the Seymour-Dean +combination.” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t like your tone, Rowena. It’s hardly respectful. +As a teacher I have no desire to ‘even +things,’ as you express it.” Miss Davis’s censure +did not ring true. She knew that this domineering +girl had no illusions concerning her dignity of position. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240'></a>240</span> +</p> +<p> +Rowena merely smiled in the bold, cheerful fashion +that she always adopted and which passed for +real good humor. She did not take Miss Davis at +her word. “Think it over,” she advised. “You +know you detest favoritism.” She was well aware +that Miss Davis deplored it, only to practise it as +regarded herself and Mignon. Mignon in particular +had always ranked high in her favor. +</p> +<p> +To have heard Rowena thus pleading her cause +would have astonished Mignon not a little. It was +by this very means that Rowena proposed to seek +her and win back the French girl’s allegiance. Without +her companionship, school had become very tame +for lawless Rowena. +</p> +<p> +“When is this meeting to take place?” asked Miss +Davis with well-simulated indifference. +</p> +<p> +“At four o’clock.” Rowena thrilled with triumph. +She knew she had gained her point. +</p> +<p> +“I may attend it,” was the teacher’s vague promise. +</p> +<p> +“Thank you. I hope for Mignon’s sake you’ll be +there.” With this sly reminder Rowena set off, determining +to waylay Mignon on her walk back from +luncheon. Not troubling to go home that noon, +Rowena swallowed a hasty luncheon at a nearby +delicatessen shop and posted herself at a corner, +which Mignon was due to pass. +</p> +<p> +“Wait a minute, Mignon,” she hailed, as the latter +was about to pass her by with a haughty toss of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241'></a>241</span> +her head. “You must listen to me. I’ve just fixed +it for you to play on the junior team Saturday.” +</p> +<p> +Astounded by this remarkable statement, Mignon +halted. Rowena had guessed that she would. “I +don’t understand you,” she said haughtily. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, you do,” assured Rowena blithely. “Three +of the juniors are sick. I just asked Miss Davis to +let you help out. She is going to see Miss Seymour +about it this afternoon. All you have to do is to +keep still until you’re asked to play, then say ‘yes.’ +Now do you believe I’m your friend?” she concluded +in triumph. +</p> +<p> +Mignon’s inimitable shrug went into play. “You +are very kind,” she returned with a trace of sarcasm. +“It’s about time you did something to make up for +all the trouble you caused me.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s just it.” Rowena clutched at this providential +straw, which Mignon had unwittingly cast +to her. “I <em>am</em> trying to make it up to you. I won’t +bother you any more now. But I hope——” she +paused significantly. +</p> +<p> +“You may walk to school with me,” graciously +permitted Mignon. The old fascination of Rowena’s +lawlessness was beginning to steal over her. +</p> +<p> +“Thank you.” Rowena spoke humbly. Inwardly +she was jubilant. She was obliged to endure these +stupid persons, but they were all her pawns, willed +to move about at her dictation. +</p> +<p> +After she had left Rowena in the corridor, Mignon +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242'></a>242</span> +indulged in sober speculation. There was more +to the affair than appeared on the surface. Formerly +she would have entered into it with avidity. +Now she was bound to respect her father’s mandate +or be packed off to a convent school. She alone +knew positively that recent association with Marjorie +and her chums had not changed her. But she +must make a pretense at keeping up an appearance of +amiable docility. Rowena’s words still sounded in +her ears like a clarion call to battle. But she was resolved +to do nothing rash. She would wait and see +before accepting the chance to play on the junior +team. It was lucky that she need not lend her presence +to the meeting that afternoon. +</p> +<p> +When at four o’clock Ellen Seymour put the matter +of postponement to five impassive-faced girls, +she was not greatly surprised to listen to their unanimous +refusal to consider the proposal. One and all +they stolidly set themselves against it. +</p> +<p> +“You forget that the juniors treated you very +nicely when your team met with misfortune,” reminded +Ellen gravely. She had vowed within herself +that she would not lose her temper. +</p> +<p> +This reminder brought stubborn replies of, “That +was different,” and “They have plenty of equally +good players to draw from.” +</p> +<p> +In the midst of the discussion, Miss Davis appeared +on the scene. Ellen understood only too well +what that meant. “What seems to be the matter +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243'></a>243</span> +here?” she asked. “Are you discussing the question +of postponing the game?” +</p> +<p> +Rowena cast a sidelong glance of triumph toward +Nellie Simmons, which said: “What did I tell you?” +</p> +<p> +“We are,” was Ellen’s crisp return. “The game +must be postponed.” +</p> +<p> +It was an unlucky speech on Ellen’s part. Miss +Davis had entered the gymnasium only half decided +upon championing Rowena’s cause. The cool decision +in the senior’s tones angered her. “I hardly +think that will be necessary,” she retorted. “Three +of the juniors are ready to play. Miss La Salle and +Miss Lind can substitute for the others. The game +will go forward on Saturday.” +</p> +<p> +“That is absolutely unfair,” cried Ellen. “The +juniors were extremely lenient with——” +</p> +<p> +“That will do.” Miss Davis held up an authoritative +hand. “Another word and I will report you +to Miss Archer. Then there will be <em>no</em> game on +Saturday.” +</p> +<p> +Ellen did not answer this threat. Her head erect, +color high, she walked from the gymnasium and +straight to Miss Archer’s office. <em>She</em> had not threatened. +She intended to act and act quickly. +</p> +<p> +“Miss Archer, I have something important to say +to you,” she burst forth on entering the principal’s +office. +</p> +<p> +“Sit down, Ellen. I am sure it must be. Don’t +tell me it is basket ball!” Miss Archer’s lips tightened. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244'></a>244</span> +</p> +<p> +“But it is.” Impetuously, Ellen poured forth her +story. When she had finished, Miss Archer’s face +was not good to see. +</p> +<p> +“I’ll attend to this, Ellen. You did right to come +to me. There will be no game on Saturday.” +</p> +<p> +The following morning five girls received a summons +to the principal’s office that put fear into their +hearts. When, one by one, they appeared, she motioned +them to be seated until the last one had completed +the line on the oak bench. Swinging in her +chair, she faced them with: “There is an old saying, +girls, ‘Turn about is fair play.’ Since you seem to +have forgotten it, I am forced to remind you. I +understand that you asked the juniors to postpone +the first basket ball game of the season, due to the +fact that your team was temporarily incapacitated. +They did so. That in itself points to an adherence +to fair play. Very well. Now there comes a time +when the situation reverses itself. Having proved +themselves honorable, the juniors have called for a +like demonstration of honor on the part of the sophomores. +You know best what has happened. You +have shown yourselves not only grossly ungrateful, +but unfit to be trusted. No one enjoys dealing with +ingrates. One understands precisely what one may +expect from such persons. +</p> +<p> +“During the year I have not been pleased with the +various reports which have been brought to me concerning +sophomore and junior basket ball; particularly sophomore +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245'></a>245</span> +basket ball. It is not long since I +was obliged to interfere with sophomore methods. +At that time I stated that a repetition of such unfair +tactics would result in the stoppage of the game for +the rest of the year. I now declare the sophomore +and junior teams disbanded. There will be no more +games between them this year. I have just one +thing further to say. It is unfortunate that the innocent +should be obliged to suffer with the guilty. +You are dismissed.” +</p> +<p> +A wavering breath of dismay passed along the +row of girls as Miss Archer pronounced sentence +upon them. Their own treachery had proved a +boomerang. Dejection laid heavy hand upon four +of them, as with downcast eyes they rose and quitted +the place of judgment. But the fifth member of +the disbanded team was not thus so easily dismissed. +Far from disheartened, Rowena Farnham sprang +forward, hands clenched at her sides, her face an +angry flame. +</p> +<p> +“Who are you that you dare talk of unfairness?” +In her devouring rage she fairly screamed the question. +“You have disbanded the team just to please +that smug-faced, priggish Marjorie Dean. You are +not fit to have charge over a school of girls. I am +ashamed to be under the same roof with you. I shall +ask my father——” +</p> +<p> +“It strikes me that it is I who should inform your +father of your outrageous behavior to me,” interrupted +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246'></a>246</span> +Miss Archer in a stern voice. “I hardly believe +that he would countenance such impudence on +your part to one in authority over you. You may +go home and remain away from school until I send +for you. I shall insist on an interview with your +father at the earliest possible moment in order to +decide what is to be done with you.” +</p> +<p> +“You won’t have to insist on seeing him,” sneered +Rowena. “He will call on you this afternoon. My +father won’t see me abused by you. He will use +his influence with the Board of Education. Then +<em>you</em> won’t be principal of Sanford High School.” +With this furious prediction of downfall Rowena +flung herself out of the office, confident that she had +delivered a telling thrust. Not daring to return to +the study hall she sped to the locker room, hastily +seized her wraps and departed for her father’s office +in high dudgeon. +</p> +<p> +The brilliantly-colored account of Miss Archer’s +misdeeds which she poured into the ears of her too-credulous +father sent him on the trail of the offending +principal with fury in his eye. Less than an +hour after Rowena had made her sensational exit, +a very tall, red-haired, red-faced man stalked into +Miss Archer’s office with the air of a blood-thirsty +warrior. +</p> +<p> +“Madam,” he thundered, omitting polite preliminaries, +“I am Mr. Farnham and I wish you to understand +most emphatically that you cannot criticize +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247'></a>247</span> +my methods of bringing up my daughter. Though +she may need occasional mild discipline it is extreme +bad taste in you to cast unjust reflections upon her +parents.” +</p> +<p> +“I was not aware that I had done so.” Miss Archer +had risen to confront the slandered (?) parent. +She met his angry gaze unflinchingly. “I had intended +to send for you, however. Now that you +are here we may as well settle matters at once. Your +daughter——” +</p> +<p> +“My daughter has been shamefully abused,” cut +in Mr. Farnham majestically. “I regret that I ever +allowed her to enter a public school. I shall remove +her at once from it. The contaminating influence——” +</p> +<p> +It was Miss Archer’s turn to interrupt in clear, +cutting speech. “Allow me to amend your last statement +to <em>her</em> contaminating influence. Your daughter +is a trouble-maker. I have borne very patiently +with her. I cannot regret your decision to remove +her from Sanford High School. It simplifies matters +immeasurably.” +</p> +<p> +Miss Archer’s quiet, but intense utterance sent an +unbidden thrill of consternation over the irate man. +His blustering manner had not intimidated this regal, +calm-featured woman. He experienced a sudden +sense of defeat. Fearful lest he might reveal it, he +cut his call short with, “My daughter will not return +to school. Good morning.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248'></a>248</span> +</p> +<p> +Miss Archer bowed him out, feeling sorry rather +than displeased with the big, blustering man whom +fatherly love had blinded to his daughter’s faults. +She wondered when, if ever, his eyes would be +opened. Under what circumstances would he +awaken to full knowledge of the real Rowena? +</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVII—THE FIRST DUTY OF A SOLDIER</h2> +<p> +“And we can have the party in her room? Oh, +fine! You’re awfully dear, Mrs. Dean. We’ll be +there at two this afternoon. Good-bye.” Jerry +Macy hung up the telephone receiver and did an +energetic dance about the hall. +</p> +<p> +“Training for the Russian Ballet?” asked Hal, +as, emerging from the breakfast room, he beheld +Jerry in the midst of her weird dance. +</p> +<p> +“No, you goose. I’m doing a dance of rejoicing. +Marjorie’s well enough to see us. We are going to +have a party for her this afternoon.” +</p> +<p> +“You are a lovely girl, Jerry, and you dance beautifully.” +Hal became suddenly ingratiating. “Am +I invited to the party?” +</p> +<p> +“Certainly not. It’s an exclusive affair; no boys +allowed. You may send Marjorie some flowers, +though. You’ve only sent them twice this week.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249'></a>249</span> +</p> +<p> +“I’ll do it. What time is the party?” +</p> +<p> +“Two o’clock. Get them at Braley’s. That’s the +nicest place.” Jerry was obliged to shout this last +after Hal, as, seizing his cap and coat, he raced out +the front door. +</p> +<p> +Over two weeks had elapsed since the Thursday +morning which had marked the downfall of basket +ball. During that time, Marjorie had lain in her +dainty pink-and-white bed, impatiently wondering if +she were ever going to get well. But one thing had +helped to make her trying illness endurable. Never +before had she realized that she had so many friends. +Her pretty “house” looked like a florist’s shop and +her willow table was piled with offerings of fruit +and confectionery sent her by her devoted followers. +Every day the mail brought her relays of +cheery letters, the burden of which was invariably, +“You must hurry and get well.” +</p> +<p> +And now the day of convalescence had dawned. +She was able not only to sit up, but to take brief +strolls about her room. Her faithful Captain had +just brought her word that Jerry and the girls would +be with her that afternoon. What a lot they would +have to talk about! Marjorie lay luxuriously back +among her pillows and smilingly patted a fat letter +from Mary Raymond. “How I wish you could be +here, too, Lieutenant,” she murmured. “We need +you to help us with our good time. Connie’s coming +over early to help Captain dress me in my wonderful +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250'></a>250</span> +new pink negligee. It has ruffles and ruffles. I +wish you could see it, Mary.” +</p> +<p> +“<em>You</em> are only playing invalid,” laughingly accused +Constance Stevens. It was a little after one +o’clock. She and Mrs. Dean had just finished arraying +Marjorie in the half-fitted pink silk negligee +that had been one of Captain’s cheer-up gifts to +her. “I never before saw you look so pretty, Marjorie,” +she declared, as she stepped back to view the +effect. “You ought always to wear your hair down +your back in long curls.” +</p> +<p> +“Just imagine how I’d look. And I so nearly a +senior, too. Connie, do you suppose Mignon will +come to my party?” Marjorie asked with sudden +irrelevance. +</p> +<p> +“When I invited her to it she said she’d come,” +returned Constance. “You can’t tell much about her, +though. The day before Miss Archer forbade basket +ball I saw Rowena stop her and walk into school +with her. I thought it rather queer. She had said +so much against Rowena after that night at Riverview.” +</p> +<p> +“She is a strange girl,” mused Marjorie. “I am +not very sorry that Rowena Farnham has left high +school. Judging from what you just said, it +wouldn’t have been long until they grew chummy +again. Rowena would have found a way to win +Mignon over to her.” +</p> +<p> +In making this prediction Marjorie had spoken +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251'></a>251</span> +more accurately than she knew. Emboldened by her +success in once more attracting Mignon’s attention +to herself, Rowena had planned to follow that move +with others equally strategic. But before she had +found opportunity for a second interview, basket +ball had been doomed and she had ceased to be a +pupil of Sanford High. +</p> +<p> +Being among the first to get wind of Miss Archer’s +decree and Rowena’s exodus from school, +Mignon secretly rejoiced in the thought that she had +not been implicated in the affair. She had fully +made up her mind to accept the invitation to play +on the junior team, were it extended to her. When +she discovered the true state of matters, she made +haste to declare openly that had she been asked, +nothing would have induced her to accept the offer. +As for Rowena, she should have known better. +After the shabby treatment she had received from +Rowena, it was ridiculous in her to dream that she, +Mignon, would lend herself to anything so contemptible. +A few such guileful speeches to the more +credulous girls caused Mignon’s stock to rise considerably +higher. Others who knew her too well +looked wise and held their peace. Mignon alone +knew just how narrowly she had missed falling into +a pit of Rowena’s digging. +</p> +<p> +Quiet Constance entertained her own view of the +incident. It coincided completely with Marjorie’s +thoughtful opinion. “It’s hard to part a pair of girls +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252'></a>252</span> +like those two,” she said. “They have too much in +common. Between you and me, I don’t imagine +Mignon will stick to us very long. She’s not interested +in us.” +</p> +<p> +“No, I suppose she thinks us rather too stiff-necked. +Oh, well, we can only do our best and let +the future take care of itself. There’s the doorbell, +Connie. That must be Jerry. She told Captain +she’d come over early. Will you go down and +escort her in state to my house?” +</p> +<p> +Constance vanished to return almost immediately, +but without Jerry. She had not come back empty-handed, +however. A large, white pasteboard box +bearing the name “Braley’s” revealed the fact that +Hal had outstripped his sister. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, the gorgeous things!” gurgled Marjorie, as +she lifted a great sheaf of long-stemmed pink rosebuds +from the box. Her pale cheeks took color from +the roses as she spied Hal’s card with a cheering +message written underneath in his flowing, boyish +hand. “He’s been such a comfort! Just as soon as +I get well I’m going to have a little dance and invite +all the boys.” Marjorie touched the fragrant token +with a friendly hand. “Laurie sent me some violets +yesterday. Those on the chiffonier.” +</p> +<p> +“He sent me some, too,” admitted Constance +rather shyly. +</p> +<p> +“How strange!” dimpled Marjorie. “Oh, there’s +the bell again! That surely must be Jerry!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253'></a>253</span> +</p> +<p> +Before Constance was half way downstairs, Jerry +was half way up, her broad face beaming, her arms +laden with a large, round object, strangely resembling +a cake. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, take it!” she gasped. “My arms are breaking.” +</p> +<p> +Constance coming to her rescue, the two girls soon +made haven with Marjorie and a lively chattering +began. Frequent alarms at the front door denoted +steadily arriving guests and a little past two found +Marjorie’s strictly informal reception in full swing, +with girls tucked into every convenient corner of her +room. Her own particular chums, including Ellen +Seymour and Esther Lind, were all there. Even +Susan and Muriel, who had been busy getting well +while she lay ill, were able to be present. Lucy +Warner was also among the happy throng, a trifle +shy, but with a new look of gentleness in her green +eyes and a glad little smile on her somber face. +</p> +<p> +Mignon appeared, but did not stay to the merry-making. +She was full of polite sympathy and apparently +bent on doing the agreeable. But in her +black eyes lay a curious, furtive expression, which +Marjorie mentally decided made her look more than +ever like the Evil Genius. After a sojourn of perhaps +twenty minutes, during which she walked about +restlessly from girl to girl, exchanging commonplaces, +she pleaded an engagement and took her +leave. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254'></a>254</span> +</p> +<p> +Her presence somewhat of a strain, her departure +was not mourned. Now wholly congenial, the party +dropped all reserve and became exceedingly hilarious. +Despite Mrs. Dean’s protests, they had insisted +on bringing their own refreshments, and later +on Marjorie’s pink-and-white house was turned into +a veritable picnic ground. Jerry’s weighty contribution +turned out to be an immense many-layered +cake, thickly iced and decorated. “A regular whale +of a cake,” she styled it, and no one contradicted +her. After the luncheon had been eaten to the ceaseless +buzz of girlish voices, each trying to out-talk +the other, the company proceeded further to amuse +the lovely convalescent with various funny little +stunts at their command. +</p> +<p> +“Girls,” at last reminded thoughtful Irma, “it is +after four o’clock. We mustn’t tire Marjorie out. +I move we go downstairs to the living room and lift +up our voices for her benefit in a good, old-fashioned +song. Then we’ll come back, say good-bye and run +home.” +</p> +<p> +The wisdom of Irma’s proposal conceded, the +singers trooped downstairs. Presently, through the +open door, the sound of their clear, young voices +came up to her as she lay back listening, a bright +smile irradiating her delicate features. It was so +beautiful to know that others cared so much about +making her happy. She had so many things to be +thankful for. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255'></a>255</span> +</p> +<p> +Afterward when all except Jerry and Constance +had kissed her good-bye and departed with bubbling +good wishes, she said soberly: “Girls, doesn’t it make +you positively shiver when you think that next year +will be our last in Sanford High? After that we’ll +be scattered. Most of us are going away to college. +That means we’ll only see each other during vacations. +I can’t bear to think of it.” +</p> +<p> +“Some of us will still be together,” declared Jerry +stoutly. “Susan, Muriel and I are going to Hamilton +College if you do. You see, you can’t lose us.” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t wish to lose you.” Marjorie patted Jerry’s +hand. Her brown eyes rested a trifle wistfully +on Constance. Marjorie knew, as did Jerry, that +Connie intended to go to New York to study grand +opera as soon as her high school life was over. +</p> +<p> +“You are thinking of Connie.” Jerry’s eyes had +followed Marjorie’s glance. “She won’t be lost to +us. Hamilton isn’t so very far from New York. +But what’s the use in worrying when we’ve some of +this year left yet and another year before us? One +thing at a time is my motto.” +</p> +<p> +“You are a philosopher, Jeremiah.” Marjorie +brightened. “‘One thing at a time,’” she repeated. +“That’s the right idea. When I go back to school +again, I’m going to try my hardest to make the rest +of my junior year a success. I can’t say much about +my senior year. It’s still an undiscovered territory. +I’m just going to remember that it’s a soldier’s first +duty to go where he’s ordered and ask no questions. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256'></a>256</span> +When I’m ordered to my senior year, all I can do is +salute the colors and forward march!” +</p> +<p> +“Lead on and we’ll follow,” asserted Jerry Macy +gallantly. “I guess we can hike along and leave a +few landmarks on that precious senior territory. +When I come into senior estate I shall use nothing +but the most elegant English. As I am still a junior +I can still say, ‘Geraldine, Jerry, Jeremiah, you’ve +got to beat it. It’s almost five o’clock.’” +</p> +<p> +Left together, after Jerry had made extravagantly +ridiculous farewells, Constance seated herself beside +Marjorie’s bed. “Are you tired, Lieutenant?” was +her solicitous question. +</p> +<p> +“Not a bit. I’m going to make Captain let me +go downstairs to-morrow. It’s time I was up and +doing again. I am way behind in my lessons.” +</p> +<p> +“You’ll catch up,” comforted Constance. Inwardly +she was reflecting that she doubted whether +there were any situation with which Marjorie Dean +could not catch up. Her feet were set in ways of +light that wandered upward to the stars. Though +to those who courted darkness it might appear that +she sometimes faltered, Constance knew that those +same steady feet would carry her unfalteringly +through her senior year to the wider life to come. +</p> +<p> +How Marjorie explored her new senior territory +and what landmarks she left behind in passing will +be told in “<span class='sc'>Marjorie Dean, High School Senior</span>.” +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p style='margin-top:15px;'>THE END</p> +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Marjorie Dean, High School Junior, by +Pauline Lester + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR *** + +***** This file should be named 36823-h.htm or 36823-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/8/2/36823/ + +Produced by Roger Frank, Katherine Ward and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Marjorie Dean, High School Junior + +Author: Pauline Lester + +Release Date: July 23, 2011 [EBook #36823] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank, Katherine Ward and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Illustration: MARJORIE ENTERED HER MOTHER'S ROOM AND DROPPED +DISPIRITEDLY AT HER FEET.] + +- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - + + MARJORIE DEAN + + High School Junior + + By PAULINE LESTER + + AUTHOR OF + + "Marjorie Dean, High School Freshman" + "Marjorie Dean, High School Sophomore" + "Marjorie Dean, High School Senior" + + A. L. BURT COMPANY + + Publishers--New York + +- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - + + Copyright, 1917 + By A. L. Burt Company + + MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR + +- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - + MARJORIE DEAN, + HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR + + + + +CHAPTER I--MARJORIE DECLARES HERSELF + + +"Only to think, next week, at this time, I'll be saying good-bye to you, +Mary Raymond." Marjorie Dean's brown eyes rested very wistfully on the +sunny-haired girl beside her in the big porch swing. + +"You know now, just how dreadfully I felt two years ago when I had to +keep thinking about saying good-bye to you," returned Mary in the same +wistful intonation. "It was terrible. And after you had gone! Well--it +was a good deal worse. Oh, Marjorie, I wish I could live this last year +over again. If only----" + +Marjorie laid light fingers on Mary's lips. "You mustn't speak of some +things, Lieutenant," she said quickly. "If you do I won't listen. Forget +everything except the wonderful summer we've had together." + +Mary caught the soft little hand in both hers. "It _has_ been +wonderful," she agreed rather unsteadily. "I'll have the memory of it to +treasure when I'm away off in Colorado. I can't believe that I am really +going so far away from you. I hope I'll like the West. Next summer you +must come out there and visit me, Marjorie. By that time I'll be a +little bit at home in such a strange, new country." + +"I'd love to do that," responded Marjorie with an eagerness that merged +almost immediately again into regretful reflection. + +A sad little silence fell upon the two in the porch swing. Each young +heart was heavy with dread of the coming separation. This was the second +time in two years that the call to say farewell had sounded for Marjorie +Dean and Mary Raymond. + +Those who have followed Marjorie Dean through her freshman and sophomore +years at high school are already familiar with the details of Mary's and +Marjorie's first separation. In "Marjorie Dean, High School Freshman," +was recorded the story of the way in which Marjorie had come to leave +her chum at the beginning of their first year in Franklin High School, +in the city of B----, to take up her residence in the far-off town of +Sanford, there to become a freshman at Sanford High. In her new home she +had made many friends, chief among them Constance Stevens, to whom she +had been greatly drawn by reason of a strong resemblance between +Constance and Mary. In an earnest endeavor to bring sunshine to the +former's poverty-stricken lot she had thereby involved herself in a +series of school-girl difficulties, which followed her throughout the +year. True to herself, Marjorie met them bravely and conquered them, one +by one, proving herself a staunch follower of the high code of honor she +had adopted for her own. + +With the advent of Mary Raymond into her home for a year's stay, +Marjorie was confronted by a new and painful problem. "Marjorie Dean, +High School Sophomore," found Marjorie enmeshed in the tangled web which +Mary's jealousy of Constance Stevens wove about the three girls. Led +into bitter doubt of Marjorie by Mignon La Salle, a mischief-making +French girl who had made Marjorie's freshman days miserable, Mary +Raymond had been guilty of a disloyalty, which had come near to +estranging the two girls forever. It was not until their sophomore year +was almost over that an awakening had come to Mary, and with it an +earnest repentance, which led to equity and peace. + +It was to this which Mary had been about to refer mournfully when +Marjorie's gentle hand had sealed her repentant utterance. All that +summer the two girls had been earnestly engaged in trying to make up for +those lost days. Constance and Mary were now on the most friendly terms. +The three had spent an ideal month together at the seashore, with no +hateful shadow to darken the pleasure of that delightful outing. Later +Constance had left them to spend the remainder of her vacation with her +family in the mountains. The Deans had lingered in their seaside cottage +until the last of August. Now September had arrived, her hazy hints of +coming Autumn reminding the world at large that their summer playtime +was over. + +To Mary Raymond it was a pertinent reminder that her days under the +Deans' hospitable canopy were numbered. In fact, only seven of them +remained. On the next Friday morning she would say her last farewells to +speed away to Denver, Colorado, where, on her invalid mother's account, +the Raymonds were to make their home. So it is scarcely to be wondered +at that Marjorie and Mary were decidedly melancholy, as they sat hand in +hand, bravely trying to meet the trial which lay before them. + +"I wonder if Jerry will come home to-day." Marjorie rose from the swing +with an abruptness that set it to swaying gently. The weight of parting +had grown heavier during that brief silence and she was very near to +tears. + +"I don't know. Her letter said Thursday or Friday, didn't it?" Mary's +voice shook slightly. She, too, was on the verge of a breakdown. + +"Yes." Marjorie's back was toward Mary as she answered. She walked to +the end of the spacious veranda and gazed down the pebbled drive. Just +then she felt as though the sight of Geraldine Macy's round, +good-humored face would be most welcome. Slowly returning to where Mary +still sat, she said: "As this is Friday, Jerry will surely----" + +"Marjorie!" called a clear voice from within the house. "The telephone +is ringing." + +"Coming, Captain!" Marjorie quickened to sudden action. "I hope it's +Jerry," she flung over her shoulder as she ran to the open door. "Come +on, Mary." + +Mary needed no second invitation. By the time Marjorie had reached the +telephone, she was only a step behind her chum. + +"Hello! Yes, this is Marjorie. Oh, Jerry!" Marjorie gave a little squeal +of delight. "We were just talking of you. We wondered if you'd be home +to-day. Won't you come over now? You will? Well, then, hurry as fast as +ever you can. We're crazy to see you. Mary wants to talk to you. Just +say 'hello' to her and hang up the receiver." Marjorie cast a playful +glance at the girl beside her. "You can talk to her when you get here." + +Marjorie held the receiver toward Mary, who greeted Jerry in brief but +affectionate fashion and obediently hung up. "Always do as your superior +officer tells you," she commented with a smile. + +"That's pure sarcasm," retorted Marjorie gaily. "The question is, am I +your superior officer or are you mine? This business of both being +lieutenants has its drawbacks. We can never know just who's who." + +"I ought to be second lieutenant and you first," demurred Mary soberly. +"I didn't deserve to become a first with you last June after----" + +"Mary!" Marjorie cried out in distressed concern. Her brown eyes were +filled with tender reproach. "Aren't you ever going to forget?" + +"I can't." Mary turned her face half away, then the flood of sadness she +had been fighting back all afternoon overtook her. Stumbling to the +stairs she sat down on the lowest step, her face hidden in her hands, +her shoulders shaking. + +"Poor, dear Lieutenant." Her own eyes overflowing, Marjorie dropped down +beside Mary and wound her arms about the dejected figure. + +"This is a nice reception! I see I shall have to welcome myself. Why, +how are you, Geraldine? Boo, hoo! It's a wonder you wouldn't ring. You +never did have any manners. I don't see why you called, anyway. Boo, +hoo!" + +The first sound of a loud, cheerful voice brought the weepers to their +feet. A loud, anguished "Boo, hoo!" sent them into half tearful giggles. + +"That's more like it," approved the stout girl in the doorway, her round +face alive with kindly solicitude. "If I had sensitive feelings I might +think you were crying because you'd invited me to call. But I haven't. +Hal says I am the most unfeeling person he knows. He only says that when +his little sister can't see things the way he does." + +Jerry rattled off these pleasantries while in the midst of a rapturous +embrace, bestowed upon her plump person by two now broadly-smiling +mourners. + +"It's splendid to see you again, Jerry," caroled Marjorie, hugging her +friend with bearish enthusiasm. Mary echoed Marjorie's fervent greeting. + +"The mere sight of me is always inspiring," grinned Jerry, winding an +arm about each friend. "I hope you have both noticed by this time that I +am a great deal thinner than I was last June. I've lost two pounds. +Isn't that some lose?" + +"Perfectly remarkable," agreed Marjorie mischievously. "Come on out on +the veranda, Jerry. We have such a lot to talk about." + +Four determined, affectionate arms propelled Jerry to the wide, +vine-decked porch, established her in the big porch swing, and climbed +in beside her. + +"Now, tell me, children, why these weeps?" Jerry demanded practically, +still retaining her loving hold of her two friends. + +"They've been on the way all day," confessed Marjorie. "We've both tried +not to cry, but--somehow----" Her voice faltered. "You see, Jerry, this is +Mary's and my last week together. Mary's going away off to Colorado next +week." + +"You don't mean it?" Jerry sat up very straight, looking wide-eyed +concern. "You never said a thing about it in your letter. I mean +letters. I believe you did write me two." Jerry registered comical +accusation. + +"Don't remind me of my sins of omission," Marjorie laughed, flushing a +trifle. "I always mean to write, but somehow I never do. We didn't know +until the week before we came from the seashore that Mary would have to +go so soon. We thought it wouldn't be until November." Again her tones +quavered suspiciously. + +"I see." Jerry frowned to hide her own inclination to mourn. During the +brief time they were thrown together, after the reunion of Marjorie and +Mary, she had learned to know and love the real Mary Raymond. "I'm more +sorry than I can say. I thought we'd all be together for our junior year +at Sanford High." + +"Of course, I am anxious to be with mother and father," put in Mary +loyally, "but I hate to leave Sanford. There are lots of things I meant +to do this year that I didn't do last year." + +"But you can't be in two places at once," was Jerry's blunt consolation. +"Never mind, Mary, you can come back to visit us and we'll write you +lots of letters. Marjorie is such a splendid correspondent." Her +accompanying jolly chuckle robbed this last pertinent fling of offence. +"We'll write you all the news. That reminds me, I've some for you girls. +You'll never guess who stayed at the same hotel with us this summer. I +didn't write about it, because I wanted to have it to tell when I came +home." + +Mary cast a sidelong glance at the stout girl. There had been a faint +touch of disgust in Jerry's intonation. "Was it--Mignon?" she asked, half +hesitant. + +"Right you are. How did you guess it?" + +"Oh, I just wondered," was Mary's brief response. A tide of red had +risen to her white skin, called there by distressing memories. + +"Yes, it was our dear Mignon," continued Jerry briskly. "And she has a +friend, Rowena Farnham, who likewise stayed at our hotel. Believe me, +they were a well-matched pair. You see the La Salles usually go to +Severn Beach every summer, but they always stay at Cliff House. We +always go to the Sea Gull. That's the whole length of the beach from +their hotel. Imagine how pleased I was to see Mignon come parading down +to dinner one evening, after we'd been there about two weeks. I was so +disgusted that I wanted my father to pack up and move us over to Cliff +House. But he wouldn't, the hard-hearted person. + +"That is only part of my tale. The worst now comes trailing along. It's +about this Rowena Farnham. It seems that the Farnhams moved to Sanford +last June just after school closed and----" + +"Is this Rowena Farnham a very tall, pretty girl with perfectly gorgeous +auburn hair and big black eyes?" broke in Mary abruptly. + +"Yes. Where did you ever see her?" demanded Jerry. "Where was I that I +didn't?" + +"Oh, I saw her one day in the post-office with Mignon. It was after you +had gone away. I thought she must be a guest at the La Salles'." + +"You thought wrong. She lives in that big house with the immense grounds +just the other side of the La Salles' home. It's the one with that +terribly high, ornamental iron fence. I always used to call it the Jail. +It made me think of one. But that's not my news, either. This new girl +is going to be a sophomore at Sanford High. I'm sorry for poor old +Sanford High." + +"Why?" A curious note of alarm sprang into Marjorie's question. After +two stormy years at high school, she longed for uneventful peace. +Jerry's emphatic grumble came like a far-off roll of thunder, +prophesying storm. + +"Why?" Jerry warmed to her subject. "Because she is a terror. I can see +it in her eye. Just now she and Mignon are as chummy as can be. If they +stay chummy, look out for trouble. If they don't, look out for more +trouble." + +"Perhaps you may find this new girl quite different," suggested Mary +hopefully. "It's not fair to judge her by Mignon. Very likely she hasn't +any idea that--that----" She was thinking of how completely she had once +fallen under Mignon's spell. + +"That Mignon is Mignon, you mean," interrupted Jerry. "She ought to know +her after being with her all summer. I'll bet she does. That's just why +I think she's a trouble-maker. They always hang together, you know." + +Marjorie slipped from the swing and faced her friends with the air of +one who has suddenly arrived at a definite conclusion. For a moment she +stood regarding Jerry in silence, hands clasped behind her back. + +"There's just one thing about it, Jerry," she began firmly, "and that +is: I _will not_ have my junior year spoiled by Mignon La Salle or her +friends. Last year we tried to help Mignon and our plan didn't work. I +thought once that she had a better self, but now it would take a good +deal to make me believe it. She caused me a great deal of unnecessary +unhappiness and she almost made Constance lose her part in the operetta. +And little Charlie! I can't forgive her for the way she treated that +baby. This year I am going to go on with my school just as though I had +never known her. I hope I won't have to play on the same basket ball +team with her or against any team that she plays on. I've had enough of +Mignon La Salle. I'm going to steer clear of her." + + + + +CHAPTER II--ALL IN HONOR OF MARY + + +"Be sure not to pack your white lace dress, Lieutenant." Marjorie +delivered this reminder from the open doorway of the pretty blue room +which Mary had so long regarded as her own special nook. + +From a kneeling position before her trunk Mary Raymond turned her head, +her eyes two mournful blue stars. "It's over there," she returned, +nodding somberly toward the bed. "Everything else that had to be packed +is packed. I can put my dress in the last thing to-night. I'm so glad +Connie is home in time to see me off on my journey. I hope she and +Charlie will come over early this afternoon." + +"They will." The blithe assurance held a significance which Mary did not +catch. The shadow of the coming separation now hung more heavily upon +her. Marjorie's cheery reply caused her to wonder vaguely if her chum +would really miss her so very much. The next instant she put the thought +away from her as unworthy. Of course Marjorie would miss her. Still she +could scarcely be blamed if she did not. In spite of the long, happy +summer they had spent together, occasionally the past rose to torture +Mary. + +Packing her effects had been a severe trial. Everything she touched +called forth memories. There was the blue linen frock she had worn on +the morning of her first entrance into Sanford High School. The very +sight of it filled her with remorse. And the dress she had worn on +Christmas Day, when the merciful Flag of Truce had bade a halt to the +hostilities which her own unreasonable jealousy had created. More than +one tear had fallen on the various dainty articles of wearing apparel as +she consigned them to her trunk. She wished above all to be brave and +cheerful, even to the very moment of farewell, but she found it hard to +fight back the terrible feeling of oppression that clutched at her +heart. + +From her position in the doorway, Marjorie had watched Mary for a moment +or two before speaking. She had guessed that the work of packing would +be something of a dolorous labor, which Mary might prefer to perform +alone. At heart she, too, was sad, but in her mind lurked a pleasant +knowledge which for the present Mary did not share. It was this +particular bit of knowledge that made it difficult for her to keep a +sober face as she met Mary's doleful gaze. + +"I'm going to wear white, too," she said brightly. "Captain finished my +new lingerie frock yesterday. As long as you're through packing, why not +get dressed for dinner now? I'm going to, even if it is only three +o'clock. Then when Connie and Charlie come we can take a stroll down to +Sargent's. That is, if we care to." Again her lovely face threatened to +break forth into the smiles. + +"All right." Mary's acquiescence came rather listlessly. Rising from the +floor she began somewhat spiritless preparations toward making ready to +receive the expected guests. + +"I'm going to my house now to put on my costliest raiment." Flashing a +mischievous glance toward Mary, Marjorie disappeared from the doorway +and tripped down the hall. Once inside her "house," as she had +whimsically named her pink and white room, she executed a gleeful little +dance for her own benefit. "She doesn't suspect a thing," was her +jubilant comment. + +But while the two girls were engaged in arraying themselves to do honor +to Constance, a most peculiar state of affairs was in progress +downstairs. Through the wide flung hall door, one after another flitted +a mysterious procession of girls, moving with the noiseless tread of a +flock of ghosts. Their bright-eyed, smiling faces and gala attire, +however, marked them as being particularly human. One of the seven +specters bore a strong resemblance to Mary herself, and the diminutive +black-eyed sprite she led by the hand seemed on the verge of breaking +forth into an ecstatic flow of joyful sounds. + +Apparently, Mrs. Dean had also been suddenly bereft of speech. Only her +twinkling eyes and smiling lips gave sign of just how greatly welcome +were her silent guests. Ushering them into the living room she nodded +brightly, laid a warning finger to her lips and softly withdrew, pulling +together the silken portieres. A half-smothered giggle, to which no +self-respecting ghost would have stooped to give utterance, followed +her. Then profound stillness reigned within. + +"Are you ready, Mary?" A bewitching, brown-eyed vision in white pranced +in upon Mary as she was slowly adjusting the soft loops of her wide, +white ribbon sash. "Let me tie your sash." Marjorie's nimble fingers set +themselves to work. "There you are. You do look so perfectly sweet in +white. Now smile and say prettily, 'Thank you for them kind words, Miss +Marjorie.' That's what Delia always says when she dresses up and I tell +her how fine she looks." + +Marjorie's buoyant spirits were so irresistible as to bring the coveted +light into Mary's mournful eyes. "Forward, march! Here we go." Seizing +Mary gently by the shoulders she marched her down the hall to the +stairway. "Break ranks," she ordered. "The gallant regiment can't afford +to tumble downstairs." + +"Halt!" came the order, as Mary reached the lower hall a step ahead of +her commander. "We will now make an invasion on the living room. Two's +right, march!" + +Mary obediently marched. Of her own accord she came to an abrupt halt. +"Oh!" she gasped. Her amazed exclamation was drowned in a chorus of +gleeful shouts as seven very lively apparitions closed in around her. + +"Charlie never said a word!" shrieked a high, triumphant voice. "We +comed to see you. Hooray!" A small, joyful figure hurled itself straight +into Mary's arms. She stooped and hugged him close, her golden head bent +to the youngster's. Straightening, she glimpsed the affectionate circle +of girls through a mist of unbidden tears. "I'm so glad and so surprised +to see all of you," she faltered. "And you knew it all the time!" She +caught Marjorie's hand. + +"Of course I knew it. Now we are even. You gave me a surprise party +once, so I thought I'd return the compliment," laughed Marjorie. "I +could hardly keep it to myself, though. Every time I looked at you I +wanted to say, 'Cheer up, the best is yet to come.'" + +"It's a good thing it wasn't long coming," retorted Jerry Macy. "I never +knew how much I liked to talk until I had to keep still." + +"You must have slipped into the house like shadows," declared Mary +happily. Her sad expression had quite vanished with the unexpected honor +that had been done her. She felt that, after all, she held some small +place in the affections of Marjorie's intimate friends, and the cloud of +doubt that had obsessed her rolled away. + +"We did do that arriving stunt rather well," was Harriet Delaney's +complacent comment. "Of course, Susie giggled. We expected she would, +though. The rest of us were above reproach." + +"No wonder I giggled," defended Susan Atwell. "If you had been the last +one in line you'd have laughed, too. You girls looked as if you were +trying to walk on eggshells, and when Jerry crossed the room in about +three steps, it was too much for me." Susan's cheerful chuckle broke +forth anew and went the rounds. + +"Well, children, what is your pleasure?" inquired Marjorie. "Shall we +stay here, or sit on the veranda, or establish ourselves in the pagoda, +or what?" + +"The pagoda for mine," decided Jerry, "provided the rest of you are of +the same mind. We can sit in a circle and tell sad stories of the deaths +of kings, etc. All those in favor of this lively pastime please say +'Aye;' contrary, keep quiet." + +"Aye," came the willing response. + +"What for is 'Aye?'" calmly demanded Charlie Stevens of Mary, to whom he +had immediately attached himself. + +"Oh, it means that Charlie can go out with us to the summer house and +have a nice time, if he would like to," explained Mary. + +"Charlie don't want to," was the frank response. "Where's Delia?" Fond +recollections of frequent visits to the Dean kitchen, invariably +productive of toothsome gifts, lurked in the foreground. "Delia likes to +see me." + +"You mean you like to see Delia," laughed Constance. "But you know you +came to see Mrs. Dean and Marjorie and Mary," she reminded. + +"I've seen them. Now I have to see Delia." + +"Delia wins the day," smiled Mrs. Dean. "You are all jilted. Very well, +Charlie, you and I will pay our respects to Delia. Come on." She +stretched forth an inviting hand to the little boy, who accepted it +joyfully, and trotted off with her to invade good-natured Delia's +domain. + +"As long as our one cavalier has been lured away from us by Delia we +might as well try to console one another," laughed Marjorie. + +"He's growing terribly spoiled," apologized Constance. "My aunt adores +him and thinks he must have everything he asks for. He's a good little +boy, though, in spite of all the petting he gets." + +"He's a perfect darling," dimpled Susan Atwell. "He says such quaint, +funny things. Has he ever tried to run away since the night of the +operetta?" + +"No." Constance made brief reply. Her gaze wandered to Mary Raymond, who +was talking busily with Harriet Delaney and Esther Lind. The vision of a +fair-haired, blue-eyed girl, leading a small run-away up to the stage +door of the theatre rose before her. Next to Marjorie Dean, Mary ranked +second in her heart. Constance felt suddenly very humble in the +possession of two such wonderful friends. Life had been kinder to her +than she deserved was her grateful thought. + +Susan eyed her curiously. Although she was very fond of Constance, she +did not in the least understand her. Now she said rather timidly, "I +hope you didn't mind because I spoke of the operetta and Charlie's +running away, Connie?" + +Constance promptly came out of her day-dream. "You brought it all back +to me," she smiled. "I was just wondering what I'd ever done to deserve +such friends as I've made here in Sanford. I can't bear to think that +Mary won't be with us this year." + +Before Susan could reply, Jerry interrupted them with, "Come along, +girls. The sooner we get settled the longer we'll have to talk." + +It was a merry, light-hearted band that strolled out of the house and +across the lawn to the honeysuckle-draped pagoda, situated at the far +end of the velvety stretch of green. Mary and Marjorie brought up the +rear, their arms piled high with bright-hued cushions, and the guests +soon disposed themselves on the bench built circular fashion around the +pagoda, or sought the comfort of the several wicker chairs. + +Brought together again after more than two months' separation, a busy +wagging of tongues was in order, mingled with the ready laughter that +high-spirited youth alone knows. Everyone had something interesting to +tell of her vacation and rejoiced accordingly in the telling. Father +Time flew in his fleetest fashion, but no one of the group paid the +slightest attention to the fact. From vacation, the conversation +gradually drifted into school channels and a lively discussion of junior +plans ensued. + +"By the way, girls," remarked Jerry Macy with the careless assumption of +casualty which was her favorite method of procedure when about to retail +some amazing bit of news. "Did you know that Miss Archer almost decided +to resign her position at Sanford High for one in Chicago?" + +"Of course _we_ didn't know it, and _you_ know we didn't," laughed Susan +Atwell. "Whenever Jerry begins with 'By the way,' and tries to look +innocent you may know she has something startling to offer." + +"Where on earth do you pick up all your news, Jerry?" asked Constance +Stevens. "You always seem to know everything about everybody." + +"Oh, it just happens to come my way," grinned Jerry. "I heard about Miss +Archer from my father. He's just been elected to the Board of +Education." + +"She isn't really going to leave Sanford High, is she, Jerry?" An +anxious frown puckered Marjorie's smooth forehead. She hated to think of +high school without Miss Archer. + +"No. At first she thought she would, but afterward she decided that +she'd rather stay here. She told father that she had grown so fond of +the dear old school she couldn't bear to leave it. I'm certainly glad +she's not going to resign. If she did we might have kind, delightful +Miss Merton for a principal. Then--_good night_!" Jerry relapsed into +slang to emphasize her disgust of such a possibility. + +"I shouldn't like that," Marjorie remarked bluntly. "Still, I can't help +feeling a little bit sorry for Miss Merton. She shuts out all the +bright, pleasant things in life and just sticks to the disagreeable +ones. Sometimes I wonder if she was ever young or had ever been happy." + +"She's been a regular Siberian crab-apple ever since I can remember," +grumbled Jerry. "Why, when I was a kidlet in knee skirts she was the +terror of Sanford High. I guess she must have been crossed in love about +a hundred years ago." Jerry giggled a trifle wickedly. + +"She was," affirmed quiet Irma with a smile, "but not a hundred years +ago. I never knew it until this summer." + +"Here is something I don't seem to know about," satirized Jerry. "How +did that happen, I wonder?" + +"Don't keep us in suspense, Irma," implored Muriel Harding. "If Miss +Merton ever had a love affair it's your duty to tell us about it. I +can't imagine such an impossibility. Did it happen here in Sanford? How +did you come to hear of it?" + +A circle of eager faces were turned expectantly toward Irma. "My aunt, +whom I visited this summer, told me about it," she began. "She lived in +Sanford when she was a girl and knew Miss Merton then. They went to +school together. There were no high schools then; just an academy for +young men and women. Miss Merton was really a pretty girl. She had pink +cheeks and bright eyes and beautiful, heavy, dark hair. She had a +sister, too, who wasn't a bit pretty. + +"They were very quiet girls who hardly ever went to parties and never +paid much attention to the boys they knew in Sanford. When Miss Merton +was about eighteen and her sister twenty-one, a handsome young naval +officer came to visit some friends in Sanford on a furlough. He was +introduced to both sisters, and called on them two or three times. They +lived with their father in that little house on Sycamore Street where +Miss Merton still lives. The young ensign's furlough was nearly over +when he met them, so he didn't have much time to get well acquainted +with them. The night before he went away he asked Miss Merton if he +might write to her and she said 'Yes.'" + +"Some story," cut in Jerry. "And did he write?" + +"Don't interrupt me, Jeremiah," reproved Irma. "Yes, he wrote, but----" + +"Miss Merton never got the letter," supplemented the irrepressible +Jerry. "That's the way it always happens in books." + +"All right. You may tell the rest of it," teased Irma, her eyes +twinkling. + +"Someone please smother Jerry's head in a sofa cushion, so she can't +interrupt," pleaded Harriet. + +"Try it," challenged Jerry. "Excuse me, Irma. I solemnly promise to +behave like a clam. On with the miraculous, marvelous memoirs of +meritorious Miss Merton." + +"Where was I? Oh, yes. The young ensign wrote, as he thought, to Miss +Merton, but in some way he had confused the two sisters' first names. So +he wrote to Alice Merton, her sister, instead, thinking it was our Miss +Merton." + +"How awful! The very idea! What a dreadful mistake!" came from the +highly interested listeners. + +"The sister was delighted because she liked the ensign a lot and thought +he didn't care much about her. You can imagine how Miss Merton felt. She +never said a word to anyone then about his asking her if he might write. +She thought he had just been flirting with her when really he had fallen +in love with her. Then his ship went on a trip around the world, but he +kept on writing to the sister, and at last he asked her to marry him. So +they were engaged and he sent her a beautiful diamond ring. They planned +to be married when he received his next furlough. But when he came to +Sanford to claim his bride, he found that he had made a terrible +mistake." + +"What did he do then?" chorused half a dozen awed voices. + +"Oh, he made the best of it and married the sister," Irma replied with a +shrug. "I suppose he felt that he couldn't very well do anything else. +Perhaps he didn't have the courage to. But one day before his wedding he +went to the house and found Miss Merton alone. She had been crying and +he felt so sorry that he tried to find out what was the matter. Somehow +they came to an understanding, but it was too late. Three or four years +after that he was drowned during a storm at sea. Miss Merton never quite +got over it all, and it changed her disposition, I guess." + +"What a sad story." Constance Stevens' blue eyes were soft with +sympathy. + +"That makes Miss Merton seem like a different person, doesn't it?" +Marjorie thoughtfully knitted her brows. + +"I suppose that is why she acts as though she hated young people," +offered Mary. "We probably remind her of her cheated youth." + +"She should have been particular enough to let that stupid ensign know +that she was she," criticized practical Jerry. "I'm glad I haven't a +sister. There's no danger of any future aspirant for my hand and heart +getting me mixed with Hal." + +The sentimental shadow cast upon the group by Irma's romantic tale +disappeared in a gale of laughter. + +"Honestly, Jerry Macy, you haven't the least idea of romance," giggled +Susan. "Here Irma tells us a real love story and you spoil it all about +a minute afterward." + +"Can't help it," asserted Jerry stoutly. "I have to say what I think." + +"Oh, here come Captain and Charlie," cried Marjorie, sighting a gracious +figure in white descending the steps with Charlie in tow. "That means +dinner is about to be served, children. Our farewell feast to Lieutenant +Mary Raymond." + + + + +CHAPTER III--THE SHIELD OF VALOR + + +A chorus of ohs and ahs ascended as the guests filed into a dining room, +the decoration of which spelled Patriotism in large capitals. In honor +of the pretty soldier play to which she and Mary had so long clung, +Marjorie had decreed that the dinner should be a patriotic affair so far +as decorations went. The walls of the large, attractive room were +plentifully festooned with red, white and blue bunting. Flags were in +evidence everywhere. From the center of the large oak table a large doll +dressed as Uncle Sam held gallantly aloft the tri-colored ribbons that +extended to each place. On one side of him stood a smaller doll dressed +in the khaki uniform of the United States soldier. On the other, a +valiant Jackie stood guard. At each cover was a small soldier doll and +the place cards were tiny, folded, silk flags, each guest's name written +in one of the stripes of white uppermost. + +Mary occupied the seat of honor at the head of the table, with Marjorie +at her right and Constance at her left. But at the departing +Lieutenant's place rose an amazing pile of tissue-paper wrapped, +beribboned bundles that smacked of Christmas. + +"Company, attention," called Mrs. Dean from the foot of the table, the +instant the party had seated themselves. "Lieutenant Raymond, you are +ordered to inspect your wealth before mess." + +"I--oh----" stammered the abashed Lieutenant, regarding said "wealth" in +stupefaction. "All those things are not really for _me_!" + +"Open them and see," directed Marjorie, her face radiant with unselfish +happiness. "Every one of them holds an original poetic message. None of +us knows what the other wrote. You are to read them in a loud voice and +satisfy our curiosity. Now hurry up and begin." + +Under a battery of smiling faces, Mary slowly undid a good-sized square +bundle. With slightly shaking fingers she drew forth a white box. When +opened it displayed several sizes of note paper and envelopes bearing +her monogram in silver. Picking up a card she steadied her voice and +read: + + "You say, of course, 'I'll surely write,' + But when you've traveled out of sight, + This nice white box may then remind you + Of Jerry Macy, far behind you." + +"I truly will write you, Jerry. Thank you." Mary beamed affectionately +on the stout girl. "It's a lovely present, and my own monogram, too." + +"See that you do," nodded Jerry gruffly. She loved to give, but she did +not relish being thanked. + +"Next," smilingly ordered Marjorie. "If you don't hurry and open them, +we shall all starve." + +The next package disclosed a dainty little leather combination purse and +vanity case from Muriel Harding with the succinct advice: + + "Don't lose your ticket or your money, + To be stone broke is far from funny. + When wicked cinders seek your eye, + Consult your mirror on the sly." + +After Muriel had been thanked and her practical, poetic advice lauded, +Mary went on with her delightful investigation. An oblong bundle turned +out to be a box of nut chocolates from Susan, who offered: + + "In time of homesick tribulation, + Turn to this toothsome consolation. + To eat it up will be amusin'---- + Here's sweet farewell from giggling Susan." + +"Giggling Susan's" effort brought forth a ripple of giggles from all +sides. + +"That's my present," squealed Charlie, as Mary fingered a tiny package +ornamented with a huge red bow. "It's a----" + +"Shh!" warned Constance, placing prompt fingers on the too-willing lips. + +Mary cast the child a tender glance as she glimpsed a tiny leather +violin case, partially obscured by a card. In this instance it was Uncle +John Roland who had played poet, after receiving Charlie's somewhat +garbled instructions regarding the sentiment. + +"Say it s'loud as you can," commanded the excited youngster. + +Mary complied, reading in a purposely loud tone that must have been +intensely gratifying to the diminutive giver: + + "Once when away from home I ranned + To play my fiddle in the band, + You comed and finded me, 'n then + I never ranned away again. + So now I'm always nice and good + An' do as Connie says I should, + And 'cause you're going to run away + You'd better write to me some day! + Inside the little fiddle box + There is a fountain pen that talks + On paper--it's for you from me, + The great musishun; your friend, C." + +As Mary read the last line she slipped from her place to Charlie and +kissed the gleeful, upturned face. "You darling boy," she quavered. +"Mary won't forget to write." + +"Mine's the best of all," observed Charlie with modest frankness, as he +enthusiastically returned the kiss. + +Back in her place again, Mary finished the affectionate inspection of +the tokens her friends had taken so much pleasure in giving. There was a +book from Harriet, a folded metal drinking cup in a leather case from +Esther Lind, a hand-embroidered pin and needle case from Irma, a pair of +soft, dark-blue leather slippers from Constance, and a wonderful +Japanese silk kimono from Mrs. Dean. The remembrances had all been +selected as first aids to Mary during her long journey across the +country. With each one went a humorous verse, composed with more or less +effort on the part of the givers. + +But one package now remained to be opened. Its diminutive size and shape +hinted that it might have come from the jeweler's. Mary knew it to be +Marjorie's farewell token to her. She would have liked to examine it in +private. She was almost sure that she was going to cry. She thrust back +the inclination, however, flashing a tender, wavering smile at her chum +as she untied the silver cord that bound the box. It bore the name of a +Sanford jeweler and when the lid was off revealed a round, gold +monogrammed locket, gleaming dully against its pale blue silk bed. In a +tiny circular groove of the box was a fine-grained gold chain. + +Mary's changeful face registered many emotions as she took the locket in +her hands and stared at it in silence. Acting on a swift, overwhelming +impulse she sprang mutely from her chair and rushed out of the room. +Marjorie half rose from her place, then sat down again. "Lieutenant will +come back soon," she said fondly. "She hasn't really deserted from the +army, she's only taken a tiny leave of absence. I remember just how I +felt when some of the boys and girls of Franklin High gave me a surprise +party. That was the night this came to me." She patted the butterfly pin +that had figured so prominently in her freshman year at Sanford. "I +almost cried like a baby. I remember that the whole table blurred while +Mary was making a speech to me about my beautiful pin." Marjorie talked +on with the kindly object of centering the guests' attention on herself +until Mary should return. + +Meanwhile, in the living room Mary Raymond was engaged in the double +task of trying to suppress her tears and open the locket at the same +time. Her eyes brimming, she worked at the refractory gold catch with +insistent fingers. Opened at last, she beheld Marjorie's lovely face +smiling out at her. On the inside of the upper half of the locket was +engraved, "Mary from Marjorie." Below was the beautiful Spanish phrase, +"_Para siempre_," literally translated, "for always," but meaning +"forever." + +Within a brief space of time, following her flight, the runaway +reappeared, her eyelids slightly pink. "I hope you will all pardon me," +she apologized prettily. "I--I--couldn't help it. You've been so sweet to +me. I can't ever thank you as you deserve to be thanked for giving me so +many lovely things; the very ones I shall need most when I'm traveling. +I am sure you must know how dear you all are to me; dearer even than my +Franklin High friends. I hope each one of you will write to me. I'll +truly try hard not only to be a good correspondent, but always to be +worthy of your friendship." + +Mary's earnest words met ready responses of good fellowship from those +whom she had once scorned. Everything was so different now. The new Mary +Raymond was an entire opposite to the sullen-faced young person who had +once flouted all overtures of friendship on the part of Marjorie's +particular cronies. Beyond an eloquent hand clasp and, "My picture +locket is wonderful, Lieutenant. Thank you over and over," Mary had +reserved further expression of her appreciation until the two chums +should be entirely by themselves. + +The delightful dinner ended with a general distribution of fancy cracker +bon-bons, which the guests snapped open with a will, to find cunning +caps representing the flags of various nations. They donned these with +alacrity and trooped into the living room for an evening of stunts in +which music played an important part. Constance lifted up her exquisite +voice untiringly, weaving her magic spell about her eager listeners. +Jerry sang a comic song, mostly off the key, merely to prove the +impossibility of her vocal powers. Charlie Stevens, who had trustfully +tugged his faithful fiddle along, insisted on rendering a solo of +anguishing shrieks and squawks, assuming the majestic mien of a +virtuoso. He took himself so seriously that no one dared laugh, although +the desire to do so was throttled with difficulty. Susan was prevailed +upon to perform a scarf dance, her one accomplishment, using a strip of +red, white and blue bunting with graceful effect. Harriet Delaney also +sang a ballad, and Esther Lind offered a beautiful Swedish folk song she +had learned from her father, who had sung it as a boy in far-off +Scandinavia. When the small repertoire of soloists had been exhausted, +everyone turned to with Constance at the piano, and made the living room +ring with school songs. + +Just before the farewell party broke up the door bell rang. Its loud, +insistent peal brought a significant exchange of glances, in which Mary +alone did not share. Mrs. Dean hurried into the hall. A moment and she +returned to the living room, escorting Delia, whose broad, homely face +was wreathed in smiles. She advanced toward Mary, holding out a goodly +sheaf of letters. "Special delivery, Miss Mary," she announced. "May yez +have many of the same." She made a little bobbing bow as Mary took them, +bestowed a friendly grin on the company and waddled out. + +"I don't understand." Mary seemed overcome by this fresh surprise. "Are +they all for me?" + +"They're your railway comforts, Lieutenant," laughed Marjorie. "There's +a letter from each of us. You can read one a day. There are enough to +reach to Denver and a few thrown in to cure the blues after you get +there. So you see we won't let you forget us." + +"It's the nicest reminder I could possibly have. I don't need a single +thing to make me remember you, though. You're all here in my heart to +stay as long as I live." Mary had never appeared more sweetly appealing +than she now looked, as her clear tones voiced her inner sentiments. + +"You're a nice girl," approved Charlie Stevens. "If I ever grow to be's +tall's you, Mary Raymond, I'll be married to you and you can play in the +band, too. Uncle John'll buy you a fiddle." + +This calm disposal of Mary's future drove sentiment to the winds. +Unconsciously, little Charlie had sounded a merry note just in time to +lift the pall which is always bound to hang over a company devoted to +the saying of farewells. + +At eleven o'clock Mary and Marjorie accompanied their guests to the +gate, the latter avowing their intention to be at the station the +following morning to see Mary off on her journey. The two girls strolled +back to the house, under the stars, their arms entwined about each +other's waists. + +"We had a beautiful evening, Lieutenant. How I wish General could have +been here. I hate to go away without saying good-bye to him," sighed +Mary. + +"I'm sorry, too. I wish he could always be at home. He has to be away +from Sanford and home so much." Marjorie echoed Mary's sigh. +Brightening, she said: "I've another dear surprise for you, though. Come +up to my house and I'll give it to you. It's his farewell message. He +wanted you to have it the very last thing to-night." + +"We are going upstairs, Captain," called Mary, as they passed through +the living room. "Want to come?" + +"Later," returned Mrs. Dean. She was too good a commander to intrude +upon the last precious moments of confidence her little army still had +left to them. + +Marjorie marched Mary to the pink and white window seat and playfully +ordered, "Sit down and fold your hands like a nice, obedient lieutenant. +Shut your eyes and don't open them until I say so." + +Tripping gleefully to the chiffonier she opened the top drawer, bringing +forth a small package and a square white envelope. Tucking them into +Mary's folded hands she said, "First you may open your eyes; then you +must open your presents. I haven't the least idea what's in the package +or what the letter says. General mailed them to me from Boston." + +Two pairs of eyes, bright with affectionate curiosity, bent themselves +eagerly on the little quaintly enameled box, which Mary hastily +unwrapped. "Oh!" was the concerted exclamation. On a white satin pad lay +an exquisitely dainty gold pin. It was in the form of a shield. Across +the top winked three small jewels set in a row, a ruby, a diamond and a +sapphire. + +"'Three cheers for the red, white and blue,'" sang Marjorie, dropping +down beside Mary and hugging her enthusiastically. "Do read the letter, +Lieutenant. We'll rave about this cunning pin afterward. Oh, I forgot. +Perhaps General didn't mean me to know what he wrote." + +"Of course he did," flung back Mary loyally. "We'll read it together." +Tearing open the envelope, she unfolded the letter and read aloud: + + "Beloved Lieutenant: + + "You are going away to a far country on a long hike, and, as it is + the duty of every good general to look to the welfare of his + soldiers, I am sending you the magic Shield of Valor to protect you + in time of need. It is a token of honor for a brave lieutenant who + fought a memorable battle and won the victory against heavy odds. It + is a magic shield, in that it offers protection only to the soldier + who has met and worsted the giant, Self. It was wrought from the + priceless metal of Golden Deeds and set with the eyes of Endurance, + Truth and Constancy. No enemy, however deadly, can prevail against + it. It is a talisman, the wearing of which must bring Honor and + Peace. + + "Dear little comrade, may happiness visit you in your new barracks. + Let the bugle call 'On duty' find you marching head up, colors + flying, until 'Taps' sounds at the close of each busy day. Though + you have answered the call to a new post, your general hopes with + all his heart that you will some day hurry back to your regiment in + Sanford to receive the sword of captaincy and the enthusiastic + welcome of your brother officers. May all good go with you. + + "Loyally, + "General Dean." + +Mary's voice trailed away into a silence that outrivaled mere speech. +The two girls sat staring at the jeweled token before them as though +fearing to break the spell their general's message had evoked. + +"Isn't it queer?" came from Mary, "I don't feel a bit like crying. When +all the nice things happened to me downstairs I wanted to cry. But this +letter and my wonderful Shield of Valor make me feel different; as +though I'd like to march out and conquer the world!" + +Marjorie's red lips curved into a tender smile as she took the pin from +the box and fastened it in the folds of lace where Mary's gown fell away +at the throat. "That's because it is a true talisman," she reminded +softly. "We never knew when long ago we played being soldiers just for +fun that we were only getting ready to be soldiers in earnest." + + + + +CHAPTER IV--THE NEW SECRETARY + + +"I'm ready to go to school, Captain!" Marjorie Dean popped her curly +head into the living room. "Is the note ready, too? It's simply dear in +you to give me a chance to call on Miss Archer." + +"Just a moment." Mrs. Dean hastily addressed an envelope and slipped +into it the note she had just finished writing. "I could mail it, I +suppose, but I thought you might like to play special messenger," she +observed, handing Marjorie the note. + +"It was a glorious thought," laughed Marjorie. "I wanted to see Miss +Archer yesterday, but I didn't like to go to her office on the very +first day without a good excuse. Do I look nice, Captain?" she inquired +archly. + +"You know you do, vain child." Mrs. Dean surveyed the dainty figure of +her daughter with pardonable pride. "That quaint flowered organdie frock +exactly suits you. Now salute your captain and hurry along. I don't care +to have you tardy on my account." + +Marjorie embraced her mother in her usual tempestuous fashion and went +skipping out of the house and down the stone walk with the joyous +abandon of a little girl. Once the gate had swung behind her she dropped +into a more decorous gait as she hurried along the wide, shady street +toward school. "Oh, goodness!" she murmured. When within two blocks of +the high school building she glimpsed the City Hall clock. Its huge, +black hands pointed to five minutes to nine. "I'll have to run for it," +was her dismayed reflection. "If I hurry, I can make it. I won't have +time to put my hat in my new junior locker, though." + +Decorum now discarded, Marjorie set off on a brisk run that brought her +into the locker room at precisely one minute to nine. Hastily depositing +her dainty rose-trimmed leghorn on a convenient window ledge, she ran up +the basement stairs to the study hall, gaining the seat assigned to her +the previous day just as the nine o'clock bell clanged forth its +warning. She smiled rather contemptuously as she noted the disapproving +glance Miss Merton flung in her direction. She had escaped a scolding by +virtue of a few brief seconds. + +"_She_ hasn't changed a bit," was Marjorie's inward judgment, as she +turned her gaze upon the rows of students; called together again to +continue their earnest march along the road of education. Her heart +thrilled with pride as she noted how few vacant seats the great study +hall held. The freshman class was unusually large. She noticed there +were a number of girls she had never before seen. It looked, too, as +though none of last year's freshmen had dropped out of school. As for +the juniors, they were all present, even to Mignon La Salle. But how +decidedly grown-up the French girl looked! Her black curls were arranged +in an ultra-fashionable knot at the back of her head that made her +appear several years older than she really was. Her gown, too, an +elaborate affair of sage green pongee, with wide bands of heavy +insertion, added to her years. She looked very little like a school girl +Marjorie thought. + +Lost in contemplation of the new Mignon, she was rudely reminded of the +fact that she was staring by Mignon herself. Their eyes meeting, Mignon +made a face at Marjorie by way of expressing her candid opinion of the +girl she disliked. Marjorie colored and hastily looked away, amused +rather than angry at this display of childishness. It hardly accorded +with her grown-up air. She had not realized that she had been guilty of +staring. Her mind was intent on trying to recall something she had heard +in connection with the French girl that now eluded her memory. Shrugging +her shoulders she dismissed it as a matter of small consequence. + +As the members of the four classes were still vacillating between which +subjects to take up and which to exclude from their programs of study, +classes that morning were to mean a mere business of assembling in the +various recitation rooms, there to receive the first instructions from +the special teachers before settling down to the usual routine of +lessons. + +For her junior program, Marjorie had decided upon third year French, +English Literature, Caesar's Commentaries and civil government. As she +had recently begun piano lessons, she had wisely concluded that, with +piano practice, four subjects would keep her sufficiently busy. Her +interest in music had developed as a result of her association with +Constance Stevens. She yearned to be able some day to accompany +Constance's beautiful voice on the piano. Mrs. Dean had long deplored +the fact that Marjorie was not interested in becoming at least a fair +pianist. Herself a musician of considerable skill, she believed it a +necessary accomplishment for girls and was delighted when Marjorie had +announced that she wished to begin lessons on the piano. + +By reciting English literature during the first period of the morning +and French the second, the last period before noon was hers for study. +Civil government and Caesar recitations the first two periods of the +afternoon left her the last hour of that session free. She had always +tried to arrange her subjects to gain that coveted afternoon period, and +now she felt especially pleased at being able to also reserve the last +period of the morning for study. + +It was while she sat in her old place in French class, listening to the +obsequiously polite adjurations of Professor Fontaine, that she +remembered the still undelivered note from her mother to Miss Archer. +"I'm a faithless messenger," was her rueful thought. "I'll hurry to Miss +Archer's office with Captain's note the minute class is over." +Contritely patting a fold of her lace-trimmed blouse where she had +tucked the letter for safe-keeping, Marjorie gave strict attention to +the earnestly-exhorting instructor. + +"Eet ees een thees class that we shall read the great works of the +incomparable French awthors," he announced with an impressive roll of +r's. "Eet ees of a truth necessary that you should become familiar weeth +them. You moost, therefore, stoody your lessons and be thus always +preepaired. Eet ees sad when my pupeels come to me with so many fleemsy +excuses. Thees year I shall nevaire accept them. I most eenseest that +you preepaire each day the lesson for the next." + +Marjorie smiled to herself. The long-suffering professor was forever +preaching a preparedness, which it never fell to his lot to see +diligently practised by the majority of his pupils. Personally, she +could not be classed among the guilty. Her love of the musical language +kept her interest in it unflagging, thereby making her one of the +professor's most dependable props. + +The recitation over, she paused to greet the odd little man, who +received her with delight, warmly shaking her hand. "Eet ees a grand +plaisir thus to see you again, Mees Marjorie," he declared. "Ah, I am +assured that you at least weel nevaire say 'oonpreepaired.'" + +"I'll try not to. I'm ever so glad to see you, too, Professor Fontaine." +After a brief exchange of pleasantries she left the class room a trifle +hurriedly and set off to call on Miss Archer. + +Entering the spacious living-room office, she was forcibly reminded that +Marcia Arnold's high school days had ended on the previous June. The +pretty room was quite deserted. Marjorie sighed as she glanced toward +the vacant chair, drawn under the closed desk that had been Marcia's. +How much she would miss her old friend. Since that day long past on +which they had come to an understanding, she and Marcia had found much +in common. Marjorie sighed regretfully, wondering who Miss Archer's next +secretary would be. + +As there was no one about to announce her, she walked slowly toward the +half-closed door of the inner office. Pausing just outside, she peeped +in. Her eyes widened with surprise as she caught sight of an unfamiliar +figure. A tall, very attractive young woman stood before the principal's +desk, busily engaged in the perusal of a printed sheet of paper which +she held in her hand. It looked as though Miss Archer had already +secured someone in Marcia's place. + +"May I come in, please?" Marjorie asked sweetly, halting in the doorway. + +The girl at the desk uttered a faint exclamation. The paper she held +fluttered to the desk. A wave of color dyed her exquisitely tinted skin +as she turned a pair of large, startled, black eyes upon the intruder. +For a second the two girls eyed each other steadily. Marjorie conceived +a curious impression that she had seen this stranger before, yet it was +too vague to convey to her the slightest knowledge of the other's +identity. + +"You are Miss Archer's new secretary, are you not?" she asked frankly. +"You can tell me, perhaps, where to find her. I have a note to deliver +to her personally." + +A quick shade of relief crossed the other girl's suddenly flushing face. +Smiling in self-possessed fashion, she said, "Miss Archer will not be +back directly. I cannot tell you when she will return." + +"I think I'll wait here for her," decided Marjorie. "I have no +recitation this period." + +The stranger's arched brows arched themselves a trifle higher. "As you +please," she returned indifferently. She again turned her attention to +the papers on the desk. + +Seating herself on the wide oak bench, Marjorie took speculative stock +of the new secretary. "What a stunning girl," was her mental opinion. +"She's dressed rather too well for a secretary, though," flashed across +her as she noted the smart gown of white china silk, the very cut of +which pointed to the work of a high-priced modiste. "I suppose she's +getting examination papers ready for the new pupils. I wonder why she +doesn't sit down." + +As she thus continued to cogitate regarding the stranger, the girl +frowned deeply at another paper she had picked up and swung suddenly +about. "Are you just entering high school?" she asked with direct +abruptness. + +"Oh, no." Marjorie smilingly shook her head. "I am a junior." + +"Are you?" The stranger again lost herself in puzzled contemplation of +the paper. Hearing an approaching footfall she made a quick move toward +the center of the office, raising her eyes sharply to greet a girl who +had come in quest of Miss Archer. Promptly disposing of the seeker, she +returned to her task. Several times after that she was interrupted by +the entrance of various students, whom she received coolly and dismissed +with, "Not here. I don't know when Miss Archer will return." Marjorie +noted idly that with every fresh arrival, the young woman continued to +move well away from the desk. + +Marjorie watched her in fascination. She was undoubtedly beautiful in a +strangely bold fashion, but apparently very cold and self-centered. She +had received the students who had entered the office with a brusqueness +that bordered on discourtesy. Two or three of them, whom Marjorie knew, +had greeted her in friendly fashion, at the same time mutely questioning +with uplifted brows as to whom this stranger might be. + +"This problem in quadratic equations is a terror," the girl at the desk +suddenly remarked, her finger pointing to a row of algebraic symbols on +the paper she was still clutching. "Algebra's awfully hard, isn't it?" + +"I always liked it," returned Marjorie, glad of a chance to break the +silence. "What is the problem?" + +"Come here," ordered the other girl. "I don't call _that_ an easy +problem. Do you?" + +Marjorie rose and approached the desk. The stranger handed her the +paper, indexing the vexatious problem. + +"Oh, that's not so very hard," was Marjorie's light response. + +"Can you work it out?" came the short inquiry, a note of suppressed +eagerness in the questioner's voice. + +"Why, I suppose so. Can't you?" + +"I was trying it before you came in just for fun. I've forgotten my +algebra, I guess. I don't believe I got the right result. It's rather +good practice to review, isn't it?" + +"She must be a senior," sprang to Marjorie's mind. Aloud, she agreed +that it was. "I ought not to have forgotten my algebra," she added. +"It's only a year since I finished it." + +"See if you think I did this right, will you? I'm curious to know." The +stranger thrust into her hand a second paper, covered with figures. + +Marjorie inspected it, feeling only mildly interested. "No; you made a +mistake here. It goes this way. Have you a pencil?" + +The pencil promptly forthcoming, the obliging junior seated herself at a +nearby table and diligently went to work. So busy was she that she +failed to note the covert glances which her companion sent now and then +toward the door. But, during the brief space of time in which Marjorie +was engaged with the difficult equation, no one came. Altogether she had +not been in the office longer than fifteen minutes. To her it seemed at +least half an hour. + +"Here you are." She tendered the finished work to the other girl, who +seized it eagerly with a brief, "Thank you. I can see where I made my +mistake when I have time to compare the two." With a smile, which +Marjorie thought a trifle patronizing, she carelessly nodded her +gratitude. Laying the printed examination sheet on a pile of similar +papers, she placed a weight upon them and walked gracefully from the +office, taking with her the two sheets of paper, bearing the results of +her own and Marjorie's labor. + +Another fifteen minutes went by. Still no one came, except a student or +two in quest of Miss Archer. Marjorie decided that she would wait no +longer. She would come back again that afternoon, before the second +session opened. It was almost noon. Were she to return to the study hall +just then, it meant to court the caustic rebuke of Miss Merton. The +locker room offered her a temporary refuge. Accordingly, she wended her +steps toward it. + +"Where were you that last period?" demanded Jerry Macy, coming up behind +her as she stood at the mirror adjusting her rose-weighted hat. + +"Oh, Jerry! How you startled me." Marjorie swung about. "I was up in +Miss Archer's office." + +"So soon?" teased Jerry, putting on a shocked expression. "I _am_ +surprised." + +"Don't be so suspicious," responded Marjorie, adopting Jerry's bantering +tone. "I had a note, if you please, from Captain, to deliver to Miss +Archer. I saw the new secretary, too." + +"Humph!" ejaculated Jerry. "You must have only thought you saw her. So +far as I know Miss Archer hasn't secured a secretary yet." + +"But she must have," Marjorie insisted. "There was a tall girl in her +office when I went there. She must surely be the girl to take Marcia's +place, for she was standing at Miss Archer's desk, going over some +papers." + +"That's funny. What did she look like? You said she was tall?" + +"Yes; tall and very pretty. She had big, black eyes and perfectly +gorgeous auburn hair----" Marjorie broke off with a puzzled frown. Her own +words had a curious reminiscent ring. Someone else had said the very +same thing about----Who had said it, and about whom had it been said? + +"Now I know you didn't see Miss Archer's new secretary," cried Jerry in +triumph. "There's only one person that can answer to your description. +She's that Rowena Farnham I told you about, Mignon's side partner. I +told you she was going to enter the sophomore class. She was probably +waiting for Miss Archer herself. She has to try her exams, I suppose." + +"But what was she doing at Miss Archer's desk?" asked Marjorie sharply. +"Why did she answer me and make me think she was the secretary? She told +several other girls that Miss Archer was out!" + +"Search me," replied Jerry inelegantly. "If she's much like Mignon it's +hard to tell what she was up to. Believe me, they're a precious pair of +trouble-makers and don't you forget it." + +"I ought to have recognized her," faltered Marjorie. A curious sense of +dread had stolen over her. "Don't you remember Mary described her almost +as I did just now, that day you came to see us, when first you got back +to Sanford?" + +"Well, nobody's going to kill you because you didn't, are they?" +inquired Jerry with a grin. "What's the matter? What makes you look so +solemn?" + +"Oh, I was just wondering," evaded Marjorie. Outwardly only slightly +ruffled, tumult raged within. She had begun to see clearly what had +hitherto been obscure and the revelation was a severe shock. All she +could hope was that what she now strongly suspected might not, after +all, be true. + + + + +CHAPTER V--A STORMY INTERVIEW + + +Marjorie returned to school that afternoon in a most perturbed state of +mind, occasioned by Jerry Macy's identification of Rowena Farnham as the +girl whom she had assisted in the working out of the problem in +quadratic equations. She was now almost certain that she had unwittingly +assisted in a most dishonest enterprise. If the papers on Miss Archer's +desk comprised the trial examination to sophomore estate, then Rowena +had no doubt been guilty of tampering with what should concern her only +at the moment when the test began. If they were the sophomore +examination papers, why had Miss Archer left them thus exposed on her +desk? And now what was she, Marjorie, to do about it? She felt that when +she delivered her mother's note to Miss Archer, she ought to inform the +principal of what had occurred during her absence. Yet she hated to do +this. It was tale bearing. Besides, her suspicions might prove +unfounded. + +She was still juggling the trying situation when she entered Miss +Archer's office to deliver her captain's note. Should she speak of it or +not? The fact that Miss Archer was now accessible but extremely busy, +with several girls occupying the office benches, caused her to put off +her decision for a time. She stopped only long enough to receive a +kindly welcome from the principal and to perform her mission as +messenger. Then she went dejectedly to her recitation in civil +government, wondering resentfully if the event of the morning was the +beginning of an unpleasant year. + +By a determined effort of will, Marjorie put the whole thing aside to +attend strictly to her recitations. But during the study hour that +preceded dismissal for the day, a way of settling the difficulty +presented itself to her. It was not an agreeable way, but her +straightforward soul welcomed it as a means toward settlement. She was +resolved to seek Rowena Farnham and learn the truth. The question of +where to find her was next to be considered. She had not yet made an +appearance into the study hall. Doubtless she was in the little +recitation room on the second floor that was seldom used except in the +case of pupils with special examinations to try. Marjorie mused darkly +as to whether the problem she had obligingly solved would figure in +Rowena's algebra paper. + +Half-past three saw Marjorie on her way to the locker room, keeping a +sharp lookout for a tall figure crowned with luxuriant auburn hair. Her +vigilance met with no reward, however, and she left the school building +in company with Irma, Jerry, Constance and Susan, deliberating as to +what she had best do next. Outside the high school she caught no glimpse +of her quarry among the throng of girls that came trooping down the wide +stone steps. Although she took part in her friends' animated +conversation, she was steadily thinking of the self-imposed task that +lay before her. + +"Let's go down to Sargent's," proposed Susan, gleefully jingling a +handful of silver that clinked of sundaes and divers delicious cheer. + +"You girls go. I can't. I've an errand to do." Marjorie's color rose as +she spoke. + +"Do your errand some other time," coaxed Susan. "I may not have any +money to spend to-morrow." + +"I'll treat to-morrow," Marjorie assured her. "I can't possibly put off +my errand. You can imagine I'm with you. Always cultivate your +imagination." + +Four voices rose to protest her decision, but she remained firm. +"To-morrow," she compromised. "Please don't tease me. I can't really go +with you to-day." + +"We'll try to get along without you, just this once," agreed tactful +Constance. Something in Marjorie's manner told her that her friend +wished to go on her way alone. + +"Go ahead then, Marjorie. Do your errand, faithful child," consented +Jerry, who had also scented the unusual and shrewdly speculated as to +whether it had anything to do with their conversation of the morning. + +Anxious, yet regretful, to be free of her chums, Marjorie said good-bye +and hurried off in an opposite direction. Jerry had said that the +Farnhams lived in the beautiful residence that adjoined Mignon La +Salle's home. It was not a long walk, yet how Marjorie dreaded it. Given +that Rowena were at home, Mignon would, perhaps, be with her. That would +make matters doubly hard. Yet she could do no less than carry out the +interview she felt must take place at the earliest possible moment. + +It was a very grave little girl who opened the ornamental iron gate and +proceeded reluctantly up the long driveway to the huge brown stone +house, set in the midst of a wide expanse of tree-dotted lawn. For all +the residence was a magnificent affair, Marjorie shivered as she mounted +the massive stone steps. There was little of the atmosphere of home +about it. + +"Is Miss Rowena Farnham here?" was her low-voiced question of the +white-capped maid who answered the door. + +"She hasn't come home from school yet, miss," informed the maid. "Will +you step into the house and wait for her?" + +"Yes, thank you." Marjorie followed the woman into a high-ceilinged, +beautifully appointed, square hall and across it to a mammoth +drawing-room, very handsomely furnished, but cheerless, nevertheless. +She felt very small and insignificant as she settled herself lightly on +an ornate gilt chair, to await the arrival of Rowena. + +Her vigil was destined to be tedious, unbroken by the sight of anyone +save the maid, who passed through the hall once or twice on her way to +answer the bell. Even she did not trouble herself to glance through the +half-parted brocade portieres at the lonely little figure in the room +beyond. Consulting her wrist watch, Marjorie read five o'clock. She had +been waiting for over an hour. She guessed that the girl on whom she had +come to call must be with Mignon La Salle. There was at least a grain of +comfort for her in this conjecture. If Mignon were at home now, there +was small chance that she would be present at the interview. + +An impatient hand on the bell sent a shrill, reverberating peal through +the great house. An instant and she heard the maid's voice, carefully +lowered. There came the sound of quick, questioning tones, which she +recognized. Rowena had at last put in an appearance. Immediately there +followed a flinging back of the concealing portieres and the girl who +had sprung into Marjorie's knowledge so unbecomingly that morning walked +into the room. + +"You wished to see----Oh, it's you!" The tall girl's black eyes swept her +uninvited guest with an expression far from cordial. + +"Yes, it is I," Marjorie's inflection was faintly satirical. "I made a +mistake about you this morning. I thought you were Miss Archer's new +secretary." She lost no time in going directly to the point. + +For answer Rowena threw back her auburn head and laughed loudly. "I +fooled you nicely, didn't I?" According to outward signs her conscience +was apparently untroubled. + +"Yes," returned Marjorie quietly. "Why did you do it?" + +Rowena's laughing lips instantly took on a belligerent curve. The very +evenness of the inquiry warned her that trouble was brewing for her. +"See here," she began rudely, "what did you come to my house for? I'm +not pleased to see you. Judging from several things I've heard, I don't +care to know you." + +Marjorie paled at the rebuff. She had half expected it, yet now that it +had come she did not relish it. At first meeting she had been irritated +by the other girl's almost rude indifference. Now she had dropped all +semblance of courtesy. + +"I hardly think it matters about your knowing or not knowing me," she +retorted in the same carefully schooled tone. "You, of course, are the +one to decide that. What does matter is this--I must ask you to tell me +exactly why you wished me to work out that quadratic problem for you. It +is quite necessary that I should know." + +"Why is it so necessary?" + +"Because I must believe one of two things," was Marjorie's grave +response. "I must have the truth. I won't be kept in the dark about it. +Either you only pretended to play secretary as a rather peculiar joke, +or else you did it purposely because----" She hesitated, half ashamed to +accuse the other of dishonesty. + +"What will you do if I say I did it on purpose?" tantalized Rowena. "Go +to your Miss Archer, I suppose, with a great tale about me. I understand +that is one of your little pastimes. Now listen to me, and remember what +I say. You think I was prying into those examination papers, don't you?" + +"I'd rather not think so." Marjorie raised an honest, appealing glance +to meet the mocking gleam of Rowena's black eyes. + +"Who cares what _you_ think? You are a goody-goody, and I never saw one +yet that I'd walk across the street with. Whatever I want, I always get. +Remember that, too. If your dear Miss Archer hadn't been called to +another part of the building, I might never have had a chance to read +over those examinations. She went away in a hurry and left me sitting in +the office. Naturally, as her desk was open, I took a look to see what +there was to see. I wasn't afraid of any subject but algebra. I'm n. g. +in that. So I was pretty lucky to get a chance to read over the +examination. I knew right away by the questions that it was the one I'd +have to try. + +"My father promised me a pearl necklace if I'd pass all my tests for the +sophomore class. Of course I wanted to win it. That quadratic problem +counted thirty credits. It meant that without it I'd stand no chance to +pass algebra. I couldn't do it, and I was in despair when you came into +the office. If you hadn't been so stupid as to take me for Miss Archer's +secretary and hadn't said you were a junior, I'd have let you alone. +That secretary idea wasn't bad, though. It sent those other girls about +their business. I thought _you_ could do that problem if _I_ couldn't. +It's a good thing you did. I copied it in examination this afternoon and +I know it's right," she ended triumphantly. + +Sheer amazement of the girl's bold confession rendered Marjorie silent. +Never in all her life had she met a girl like Rowena Farnham. Her calm +admittance to what Marjorie had suspected was unbelievable. And she +appeared to feel no shame for her dishonesty. She gloried in it. Finding +her voice at last, the astounded and dismayed interviewer said with +brave firmness: "I can't look at this so lightly, Miss Farnham. It +wasn't fair in you to deceive me into doing a thing like that." + +"What's done can't be undone," quoted Rowena, seemingly undisturbed by +the reproof. "You are as deep in the mud as I am in the mire. You helped +me, you know." + +"I will not be included in such dishonesty." Marjorie sprang angrily to +her feet and faced Rowena. "If Miss Archer knew this she would not +accept your algebra paper. She might not wish to accept you as a pupil, +either. I hoped when I came here this afternoon that everything would +turn out all right, after all. I hoped that paper might not be the +algebra test you were to have. I don't wish to tell Miss Archer, yet +it's not fair to either of us that you should masquerade under false +colors. You have put me in a very hard position." + +It was now Rowena who grew angry. During the interview she had remained +standing, looking down on the girl in the chair with amused contempt. +Marjorie's flash of resentment unleashed a temper that had ever been the +despair of Rowena's father and mother. Her dark eyes glowed like live +coals, her tall, slender body shook with fury. "If you dare go to Miss +Archer with what I've told you, I'll put you in a much harder position. +I'll make you lose every friend you have in school. I know all about +you. You've bullied and snubbed poor Mignon La Salle and made her lose +_her_ friends. But you can't bully or threaten or snub me. I didn't want +to come to Sanford to live. It's nothing but a little, silly country +town. I didn't want to go to your old school. My father and mother make +me go. My father doesn't believe in select boarding schools, so I have +to make the best of it. If I pass my examinations into the sophomore +class I'll make it my business to see that I get whatever I take a +notion to have. You can't stop me. I've always done as I pleased at home +and I'll do as I please in school. If you tell Miss Archer about this +morning, I'll see that you get more blame than I. Don't forget that, +either." + +Marjorie felt as though she had been caught in a pelting rain of +hail-stones. Yet the furious flow of vituperation which beat down upon +her did not in the least intimidate her. "I am not afraid of anything +you may do or say," she returned, a staunch little figure of dignified +scorn. "I came to see you in all good faith, willing to give you the +benefit of the doubt. Now that I understand exactly how you feel about +this affair, I won't trouble you further. Good afternoon." + +"Stop! What are you going to do?" called Rowena. Marjorie had already +passed into the hall. "You've got to tell me before you leave this +house." She darted after her steadily retreating caller, cheeks flaming. + +At the outer door, Marjorie paused briefly, her hand on the dead latch. +"I said 'good afternoon,'" was her sole response. Then she let herself +out and walked proudly away from the house of inhospitality, oblivious +to the torrent of hot words which the irate Rowena shrieked after her +from the veranda. + + + + +CHAPTER VI--A QUESTION OF SCHOOL-GIRL HONOR + + +"I've something to report, Captain." Marjorie entered her mother's room +and dropped dispiritedly at her feet. Unpinning her flower-decked hat, +she removed it with a jerk and let it slide to the floor. + +"Well, dear, what is it?" Mrs. Dean cast a half anxious look at her +daughter. The long strip of pink crochet work, destined to become part +of an afghan for Marjorie's "house" dropped from her hands. Reaching +down she gave the dejected curly head at her knee a reassuring pat. +"What has happened to spoil my little girl's second day at school?" + +Marjorie flashed an upward glance at her mother that spoke volumes. +"I've had a horrid time to-day," she answered. "Last year, when things +didn't go right, I kept some of them to myself. This year I'm going to +tell you everything." Her voice quivering with indignation at the +calamity that had overtaken her unawares, she related the disturbing +events that had so recently transpired. "I don't know what to do," she +ended. "Do you think I ought to go to Miss Archer and tell her +everything?" + +"That is a leading question, Lieutenant." Mrs. Dean continued a +sympathetic smoothing of Marjorie's curls. "It is one thing to confess +one's own faults; it is quite another to make public the faults of +someone else. It is hardly fair to Miss Archer to allow this girl to +profit by her own dishonesty. It is not fair to the girl herself. If she +is allowed to pursue, unchecked, a course which will eventually lead to +a great dishonesty, then you would be in a measure responsible. On the +other hand, I abhor a talebearer. I can't decide at once what you ought +to do. I shall have to think it over and give you my answer later. Your +rights must be considered also. You were an innocent party to a +despicable act, therefore I do not believe that you owe the author of it +any special loyalty. I am not sure but that I ought to go to Miss Archer +myself about it. You have suffered a good deal, since you began going to +Sanford High School, through Mignon La Salle. I do not propose that this +new girl shall spoil your junior year for you. Come to me to-morrow at +this time and I will have made up my mind what is best for you. I am +glad you told me this." + +"So am I," sighed Marjorie. "I know that whatever you decide will be +best for me, Captain. I am not afraid for myself. It's only that I hate +to make trouble for this girl, even though she deserves it. You see it +may mean a good deal to her father and mother to have her get along well +in school. She said her father wouldn't let her go away to boarding +school. That sounds as though he wanted her to be at home where he could +look after her." + +"That must also be considered," agreed Mrs. Dean. "Now don't worry about +this affair any more. I am sure we shall find the wisest way out of it +for everyone concerned. You had better run along now and get ready for +dinner. It's almost half past six." + +Marjorie reached for her discarded hat. Scrambling to her feet she +embraced her mother and went to her room, infinitely cheered. As she +left the room, Mrs. Dean sent after her a glance freighted with motherly +protection. She had no sympathy for a girl such as Marjorie had +described Rowena Farnham to be, and she uttered a mental prayer of +thankfulness that her own daughter was above reproach. + +No further mention of the affair was made between mother and daughter +that evening. Nevertheless, Marjorie went to school the next morning in +a far from buoyant mood. She had been wakened by a reverberating roll of +thunder, followed by the furious beating of rain against her windows. A +true child of sunshine, the steady tapping of the heavy drops filled her +with a dread sense of oppression which she could not shake off. + +By noon, however, it had passed away with the storm. When she went home +to luncheon the sun was high in the sky. The rain-washed streets were +rapidly succumbing to his warm smile. Only a puddle here and there, or a +shower of silver drops from a breeze-shaken tree remained to remind her +of the morning deluge. + +Returning from luncheon, she had hardly gained her seat when Miss Merton +stalked down the aisle to her desk. "Report to Miss Archer at once, Miss +Dean," she commanded in her most disagreeable manner. + +Marjorie's thoughts immediately flew to yesterday. Was it possible that +Rowena Farnham had gone to the principal of her own volition? It was +hardly to be credited. Remembering her mother's note, Marjorie jumped to +the conclusion that this was the most probable reason for the summons. + +"Good afternoon, Marjorie," greeted Miss Archer from her desk, as the +pretty junior appeared in the doorway. "Come here, my dear. I have +something rather unusual to show you." She motioned Marjorie to draw up +a chair beside her own. "I wonder if you can throw any light upon this." + +"This" was an open letter, which she now tendered to the puzzled girl. +Marjorie read: + + "Miss Archer: + + "Yesterday morning, at a little after eleven o'clock, Marjorie Dean + and a girl with red hair and black eyes, whose name I do not know, + meddled with the examination papers on your desk while you were in + another part of the building. Marjorie Dean showed the girl how to + do one of the examination problems in algebra. This I know because I + heard them talking about it and saw them have the list of questions. + Such dishonesty is a disgrace to Sanford High School. + + "The Observer." + +Marjorie allowed the letter to fall from her nerveless hands. She felt +herself grow hot and cold as she forced herself to meet Miss Archer's +intent scrutiny. Yet she said nothing. Only her brown eyes sent forth +agonized signals of distress. + +Noting her strange demeanor, Miss Archer's pleasant face hardened. Was +Marjorie Dean really guilty of such dishonor? If innocent, why did she +not hotly proclaim the fact? "I am waiting for you to explain the +meaning of this note, Marjorie," she reminded sternly. "Can you do so?" + +"Yes," came the low monosyllable. + +"Then do so at once," crisply ordered the principal. + +Marjorie drew a long breath. "I can't explain my part of it without +bringing in someone else," she faltered. + +"You mean Miss Farnham, I suppose?" + +Marjorie hesitated, then nodded. It appeared that Miss Archer had +already put two and two together. + +"I happen to know that Miss Farnham is the only one who could possibly +answer to the description this letter gives," continued Miss Archer +impatiently. "She was also the only one to be interested in the papers +on my desk. I sent for you first, however, because I wished to give you +a chance to explain how you happened to figure in this affair. I have +always had a great deal of faith in you, Marjorie. I do not wish to lose +that faith. Now I must insist on knowing exactly what occurred here +yesterday morning. Did you or did you not assist Miss Farnham in solving +a problem in algebra, which she culled from the examination paper in +that subject?" + +"Miss Archer," Marjorie said earnestly, "I did help Miss Farnham with +that problem, but I had no idea that she was trying to do anything so +dishonorable. It all came about through a mistake. I'd rather she would +explain that part of it. The reason I happened to be in this office was +because of the note my mother asked me to bring you. Miss Farnham was +here when I came in. While I sat waiting for you she asked me to help +her with that problem. I solved it for her and she took it and went +away. I waited a little longer, then left the office." + +Miss Archer's stern features gradually relaxed as Marjorie made this +straightforward account of her own actions. The principal noted, +however, that she had revealed considerably less regarding the other +girl. "That is a somewhat indefinite statement," she said slowly. "You +have not been frank as to Miss Farnham. You are keeping something back. +You must tell me all. I prefer to know the absolute facts from you +before sending for the other party to this affair." + +"Please don't ask me to tell you, Miss Archer," pleaded Marjorie. "I'd +rather not." + +Miss Archer frowned, This was not the first time that Marjorie had taken +such a stubborn stand. She knew the young girl's horror of telling +tales. Yet here was something that she deemed it necessary to uncover. +She did not relish being thus balked by a too rigid standard of +school-girl honor. It suddenly occurred to her to wonder how Marjorie +could have been so easily deceived. + +"Do you think this is fair to me?" she questioned sharply. "I feel that +I have behaved very fairly to you in thus far assuming that you are +innocent. There are gaps in your story which must be filled. I wish you, +not Miss Farnham, to supply them. Suppose I were to say, it is very +strange that you did not suspect this girl of trickery." + +"But I didn't, truly I didn't," sounded the half-tearful protest. + +"I am not actually saying that you suspected her. Tell me this, at +least. Did you know that the problem she asked you to solve for her was +from the examination sheet?" + +"I--she----" stammered the unfortunate junior. + +"You did know it, then!" exclaimed Miss Archer in pained suspicion. +"This places you in a bad light. If you knew the source of the problem +you can hardly claim innocence now unless you give me absolute proof of +it." + +"You have my word that I am not guilty." Her desire to cry vanished. +Marjorie now spoke with gentle dignity. "I try always to be truthful." + +Miss Archer surveyed the unobliging witness in vexed silence. At heart +she believed Marjorie to be innocent, but she was rapidly losing +patience. "Since you won't be frank with me, I shall interview Miss +Farnham as soon as she finishes her examinations of the morning. I shall +not allow her to go on with this afternoon's test until I have reached +the bottom of this affair. Come to my office as soon as you return from +luncheon. That is all." The principal made a dignified gesture of +dismissal. + +The beseeching glance poor Marjorie directed toward Miss Archer was lost +upon the now incensed woman. She had already begun to busy herself at +her desk. If she had glimpsed the reproach of those mournful eyes, it is +doubtful whether she would have been impressed by them. Secretly she was +wondering whether she had made the mistake of reposing too much +confidence in Marjorie Dean. + + + + +CHAPTER VII--FAITH AND UNFAITH + + +On reaching home that noon Marjorie's first impulse was to hurry to her +mother with a recital of the morning's events. Greatly to her dismay, +Delia met her at the door with the announcement that her mistress had +motored to a neighboring town to meet Mr. Dean, who had telegraphed her +from there. They would not arrive home in time for luncheon, probably +not until late in the afternoon. + +Divided between the pleasure of seeing her father and distress +occasioned by Miss Archer's implied disbelief, Marjorie ate a lonely and +most unsatisfactory luncheon. She could think of nothing other than the +impending session in which she and Rowena Farnham would so soon figure. +She pondered gloomily on the strange way in which the knowledge of +Rowena's unscrupulous behavior had been borne to Miss Archer. Who could +have written that letter? Could it be laid at the door of one of the +several girls who had inquired for the principal and promptly retired +from the scene? If this were so, then some one of them must have +lingered just outside to spy upon herself and Rowena. She knew the +majority of those who had sought the office while she lingered there. +Only one or two had been strangers. Of those she knew, she could recall +no one of them she would deem guilty of spying. + +As she left her home for the high school, Marjorie smiled in wry fashion +at the thought of Rowena's anger when she learned that her unfair +tactics had been discovered and reported. If she treated Miss Archer to +a scene similar to that which Marjorie had undergone in Rowena's home, +she was very likely to find herself out of high school before having +actually entered. As it was, Rowena stood a strong chance of forfeiting +the privilege to try the remainder of her examinations. + +Twenty minutes past one found Marjorie on the threshold of the +principal's office. At sight of her Miss Archer bowed distantly and went +on with her writing. As yet Rowena had not put in an appearance. Ten +minutes later she strolled nonchalantly in, her bold, black eyes +registering supreme contempt of the world in general. Her smart gown of +delft blue crepe set off her dazzlingly fair skin and heavy auburn hair +to perfection. She was a stunning young person, and well aware of her +good looks. + +"I understand you wish to see me," she drawled in a tone bordering on +impatience. Ignoring Marjorie, save for one swift, menacing glance, she +addressed herself to the woman at the desk. + +Miss Archer had already risen. Now she fixed the newcomer with stern, +searching eyes. "Sit over there, Miss Farnham." She waved her to a seat +beside Marjorie on the oak bench. + +With an insolent shrugging of her shoulders, Rowena sat down, placing +the length of the bench between herself and its other occupant. "Well, +what is it?" she asked unconcernedly. + +Miss Archer's lips compressed themselves a trifle more firmly. "Your +manner is distinctly disrespectful, Miss Farnham. Kindly remember to +whom you are speaking." + +Rowena's shoulders again went into eloquent play. "Oh, excuse me," she +murmured. + +Ignoring the discourtesy, Miss Archer reached to her desk for the +letter, the contents of which Marjorie already knew. Handing it to +Rowena she said: "Read this letter. You will then understand why I sent +for you." + +Looking distinctly bored, the girl perused the letter. A tantalizing +smile curved her red lips as she finished. "This is your work," she +accused, turning to Marjorie. + +The latter opened her brown eyes in genuine amazement. The accusation +was totally unexpected. "You know very well it is not," she flung back, +the pink in her cheeks deepening. + +"Whatever you have to say, Miss Farnham, you may say to me," reproved +the principal. "I have already gone over the contents of this letter +with Miss Dean." + +"I have nothing to say," replied Rowena serenely. + +"But _I_ have several things to say to you," reminded Miss Archer +sharply. "I demand a complete explanation of what occurred here during +my absence yesterday morning." + +"I am afraid you've come to the wrong person, then." Rowena was coolly +defiant. "Miss Dean can answer your question better than I. No doubt she +has already said a number of pleasant things about me." + +"Miss Dean has said nothing to your discredit. In fact she has refused +to commit herself. She prefers that you do the explaining." +Unconsciously Miss Archer sprang into irritated defense of Marjorie. + +Rowena's black eyebrows lifted themselves. So the goody-goody had +refused to betray her! This was decidedly interesting. Her clever brain +at once leaped to the conclusion that with Marjorie's lips sealed it +would be hard to establish her own dishonesty. In itself the letter +offered no actual proof. It was merely signed "The Observer." A cunning +expression crept into her eyes. "Someone must have been trying to play a +joke," she now airily suggested. "The very fact that the letter isn't +properly signed goes to prove that." + +"_Miss Farnham!_" The principal's authoritative utterance betrayed her +great displeasure. "You are overstepping all bounds. Miss Dean herself +has admitted that she solved an algebraic problem for you. I insist on +knowing whether or not that problem was taken from an examination sheet +that lay among others on my desk. If so, there is but one inference to +be drawn. During my absence you tampered with the papers on my desk. No +such thing has ever before occurred in the history of this school. Now I +ask you pointblank, did you or did you not meddle with my papers?" + +Without replying, Rowena's eyes roved shrewdly to Marjorie, as though +trying to discover what the latter intended to do. Were she to reply to +the question in the negative, would this baby of a girl, whom she +already despised, still maintain silence? + +Apparently, Marjorie read her thought. "Miss Farnham," she broke in, her +soft voice ringing with purpose, "if you do not answer Miss Archer +truthfully, I, at least, will." + +That settled it. Nevertheless, Rowena determined that Marjorie should +pay for her interference. "If you must know," she said sullenly, "I did +glance over them. You had no business to leave them on the desk. Miss +Dean saw me do it, too, but she didn't seem to mind. I even showed her +that problem in quadratics and told her I couldn't do it. So she did it +for me." + +"Is this true?" To the distressed listener Miss Archer's amazed question +came as a faint and far-off sound. Driven into a corner by Rowena's +spiteful misrepresentation, Marjorie determined to clear herself of the +opprobrium. "I saw Miss Farnham with the papers," she affirmed. "She +pointed out to me the one she couldn't do and I solved it for her. I +thought----" + +"That will do." Never to Marjorie's recollection had Miss Archer's voice +carried with it such unmeasured severity. For once she was too +thoroughly displeased to be just. Only that morning Marjorie had +earnestly proclaimed her innocence. Brought face to face with Rowena, +she had renigged, or so it now seemed to the affronted principal. +Abhoring deceit and untruthfulness, she rashly ticketed her hitherto +favorite pupil with both faults. + +"But Miss Archer," pleaded Marjorie desperately, "won't you allow me +to----" + +"It strikes me that too much has already been said that might better +have been left unsaid," cut in the principal coldly. "You two young +women are guilty of a most despicable bit of work. If it lay within my +power I would expel both of you from the school you have disgraced. This +matter will be taken up by the Board of Education. All I can do is to +send you both home, there to await the decision of those above me. Your +parents shall be informed at once of what has taken place. As for you, +Miss Farnham, in case the Board decides to give you another chance you +will be obliged to take an entirely new set of examinations. In a +measure I hold myself responsible for this. I should have locked my +desk. I have always trusted my pupils. Dishonesty on the part of two of +them is a severe blow. You may both leave the school at once. _You_, +Miss Dean, need not return to the study hall." + +Rowena Farnham received her dismissal with an elaborate shrug that +plainly indicated how little she cared. Without deigning a reply she +strolled out of the office, apparently as self-possessed as when she had +entered. Marjorie, however, remained rooted to the bench on which she +sat. She could not believe the evidence of her own ears. Neither could +she credit the principal's sudden unjust stand. + +"Miss Archer," she faltered, "won't you----" + +"The subject is closed, Miss Dean. Kindly leave my office." Miss Archer +refused to meet the two pleading eyes that persistently sought hers. +This self-revelation of the girl's guilt had dealt her a hurt which she +could not soon forget. To uncover treachery and dishonesty in a friend +is an experience which carries with it its own bitterness. The very fact +that it is unexpected makes it infinitely harder to bear. Miss Archer's +disappointment in Marjorie was so great as to obscure her usually clear +insight into matters. She had trusted her so implicitly. She felt as +though she could not endure her presence in the office. Now she kept her +gaze resolutely fixed on her desk, nor did she alter it until the echo +of the misjudged lieutenant's light footfalls had entirely died away. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII--FOR THE GOOD OF THE ARMY + + +Marjorie could never quite recall the details of that dreadful walk +home. Only once before in her short life had she been so utterly +crushed. That was on the day she had rushed from the little gray house, +believing that her beloved Constance was a thief. Now it came back to +her with force. Just as she had felt on that terrible afternoon, so must +Miss Archer be feeling now. Miss Archer thought that she, Marjorie Dean, +was unworthy to be a pupil of Sanford High. "If only Miss Archer had +listened to me," surged through her troubled brain as she walked the +seemingly endless road home. What would Captain and General say? + +Yet with this thought a gleam of daylight pierced the dark. Her Captain +already knew all. She knew her daughter to be innocent of wrongdoing. +General would believe in her, too. They would not see her thus disgraced +without a hearing. She would yet be able to prove to Miss Archer that +she was blameless of such dishonesty. + +"Well, well!" She had mounted the steps of her home when a cheery voice +thus called out to her. The next instant she was in her father's arms. +Delight in seeing him, coupled with all she had just undergone, broke +down the difficult composure she had managed to maintain while in Miss +Archer's presence. With a little sob, Marjorie threw herself into her +father's arms, pillowing her curly head against his comforting shoulder. + +"My dear child, what has happened?" Mrs. Dean regarded her daughter's +shaking shoulders with patient anxiety as she cried out the startled +question. + +"There, there, Lieutenant." Mr. Dean gathered the weeping girl close in +his protecting arms. "Surely you aren't crying because your worthy +general has come home?" + +"No-o-o," came the muffled protest. "I'm--glad. It's--not--that. +I've--been--suspended--from--school." + +"What!" Mr. Dean raised the weeper's head from his shoulders and gazed +deep into the overflowing brown eyes. + +"It's true," gulped Marjorie. "I'm not--to--blame--though. It's +all--a--misunderstanding." + +"Then we'll straighten it out," soothed Mr. Dean. "Come, now. You and +Captain and I will go into the living room and sit right down on the +nice comfy davenport. Then you can wail your troubles into our +sympathetic ears. Your superior officers will stand by you. You take one +arm, Captain, and I'll take the other." + +Resigning herself to the guidance of those who loved her best, Marjorie +suffered herself to be led into the living room and deposited on the +friendly davenport, a solicitous parent on either side. + +"You're wonderful, both of you," she sighed, possessing herself of a +hand of each. Her brief gust of grief had spent itself. Her voice was +now almost steady. + +Mrs. Dean had already made a shrewd guess regarding the reason for +Marjorie's tears. "Is that affair of yesterday responsible for your +suspension from school, Lieutenant?" she questioned abruptly. + +"Yes." With an occasional quaver in her speech, Marjorie went over the +details of both visits to the principal's office. + +"Hm!" ejaculated Mr. Dean, his eyes seeking his wife's. "Suppose you +tell your general the beginning of all this." + +"It strikes me that Miss Archer behaved in a a rather high-handed +manner," he observed dryly when Marjorie had ended her sad little story. + +"I can't blame her so much." Marjorie was loyal to the death. "I know +just how terribly it must have hurt her. I suppose I should have told +her everything in the first place." + +Mrs. Dean released Marjorie's hand and rose from the davenport, intense +determination written on every feature. "Miss Archer will listen to +_me_," she announced grimly. "I shall go to Sanford High School at once. +My daughter is entitled to justice and she shall receive it. I am +surprised at Miss Archer's unfair attitude. Go upstairs and bathe your +face, Marjorie. General, will you see to the car?" + +"But she won't see me, I am afraid." + +"Nonsense," returned her mother with unusual brusqueness. Stepping into +the hall, she consulted the telephone directory. "Give me Sycamore 213," +she called into the transmitter. "Miss Archer? This is Mrs. Dean. +Marjorie has just come from school. I am sure you will accept my word +that she has done nothing dishonest. Will it be convenient for you to +see us at once? Thank you. We will be at the high school within the next +half hour." + +During the short telephone conversation, Marjorie stood at her mother's +side, hardly daring to breathe. Mrs. Dean hung up the receiver to the +accompaniment of her daughter's wild embrace. "Go and make yourself +presentable," she chided. Disengaging the clinging arms, she gave +Marjorie a gentle shove toward the stairs. + +Youth's tears are quickly dried, its sorrows soon forgotten. Ten minutes +afterward, a radiant-faced lieutenant presented herself in the hall, +renewed buoyancy in her step as she and her captain passed through the +gate to where the automobile awaited them with Mr. Dean at the wheel. + +"I'll stay here," he decided as they drew up before the high school. +"Let our valiant captain lead the charge. You can fall back on your +reserves if you are routed with slaughter." + +"Captain's won half the battle," joyfully declared Marjorie. "Now I am +sure I can win the other half." Blowing a kiss to her father she set her +face toward vindication. + +Miss Archer greeted Mrs. Dean in a friendly, impersonal fashion, which +showed plainly that she was not displeased with the latter for taking +such prompt action. Her bow to Marjorie was distinctly reserved, +however. She had yet to be convinced of the girl's innocence. + +"According to Marjorie's story, Miss Archer," began Mrs. Dean with +gentle directness, "she has been the victim of circumstantial evidence. +I am not here to criticize your stand in this affair. I understand that +you must have been severely tried. I merely wish to ask you to allow +Marjorie to tell her story from beginning to end. She came to me +yesterday with it, and asked my advice. I deferred decision until +to-day. It seems I was a day too late. However, I wish her to do the +explaining." + +A faint, embarrassed flush stole to Miss Archer's face as she listened. +She was beginning to realize that she had for once been too quick to +condemn. Mrs. Dean was too high-principled a woman to attempt to smooth +over her own child's offences. Under the battery of her friend's clear +eyes, the principal found herself penitently responding: "Mrs. Dean, I +must admit that I am at fault. Had I stopped to listen to Marjorie, I am +now certain that I should have found her explanation satisfactory." + +"Thank you." Mrs. Dean extended a gracious hand in which the principal +laid her own with a smile. The two women understood each other +perfectly. + +Marjorie's sensitive lips quivered as Miss Archer's hand went out to her +also. "I am only too glad to be able to apologize for misjudging you, +Marjorie," she said with grave gentleness. "The truest atonement which I +can make is to say 'I believe in you' without a hearing." + +"But I wish to tell you everything, Miss Archer," assured Marjorie +earnestly. "It was only because I hated the idea of tale-bearing that I +didn't tell you this morning. I thought that Miss Farnham----" + +"Would tell me," supplemented the principal. "I quite understand. +Frankly it would help me very much if you put me in complete possession +of the facts of the case. I hardly believe you owe it to Miss Farnham to +conceal anything." + +With a charitable striving toward placing the other girl in the least +obnoxious light, Marjorie gave Miss Archer a true but unmalicious +version of all that had passed between herself and Rowena Farnham. + +"This is simply outrageous," was Miss Archer's emphatic verdict. "Miss +Farnham is a menace to Sanford High School. In all my experience with +young women I have never met with her equal. I shall recommend the Board +that she be not allowed to enter the school. A firebrand such as she has +shown herself to be is more than likely to spread her devastating +influence throughout the school. We have a duty to perform to the +parents who intrust their daughters to us which cannot be overlooked." + +"I agree with you," was Mrs. Dean's grave response. "Still, I am very +sorry for this girl, and for her parents. We all wish to be proud of our +children. It must be dreadful to be disappointed in them." + +"You, at least, will never be called upon to bear such a +disappointment." Miss Archer's hearty reply caused an exchange of +affectionate glances between her hearers. + +"I hope I shall always prove worthy of Captain's and your trust." +Marjorie's little speech rung with modest sincerity. Hesitatingly she +added: "Miss Archer, couldn't you possibly give Miss Farnham another +chance? When I was at her house the other day she said that her father +and mother wanted her to go to high school. She'd rather go to boarding +school, but they won't let her. If she isn't allowed to enter Sanford +High she will have to go away to school. That might not be the best +thing for her." Marjorie paused, blushing at her own temerity. + +"You are a very forgiving little girl." Miss Archer eyed the pleader in +a whimsical fashion. "There is a great deal in your view of the matter, +too. It is a question of one girl's parents against many, however. So +far as I can remember this is the first case in the history of the +school that warranted dismissal. As you have been the chief sufferer in +this tangle, your plea for clemency should be respected. It shall be +mentioned to the members of the Board of Education. That is all I can +promise now. Personally, as _you_ are great-spirited enough to plead for +her, I am willing to do my part. But only on your account. I doubt the +advisability of allowing her to go on with her examinations. However, +'forewarned is forearmed.' Should she be permitted to enter the school, +I shall keep a watchful eye on her." + +Real admiration of Marjorie's readiness to help one who had treated her +so shabbily caused the principal to speak as confidentially to her pupil +as she might have to a member of the Board. Marjorie, as well as her +mother, was aware of this. Yet far from being elated at the mark of +confidence, the pretty junior bore her honors almost humbly. She merely +thanked Miss Archer in the sweet, gracious fashion that set her apart +from all other girls with whom the principal had come in contact during +her long service on the field of education. + +Almost immediately afterward the Deans said farewell and departed +happily to convey the good news to their somewhat impatient chauffeur, +who sat in the automobile pondering whimsically on the length and +breadth of women's chats. Long after they had gone, Marjorie's winsome, +selfless personality haunted the busy principal. To be truly great one +must be truly good was her inner reflection. Remembering past +circumstances in which Marjorie had figured ever as a force for good, +she marveled that she could have doubted her. And as a vision of the +girl's lovely face, animated by the light from within, rose before her +she mentally prophesied that Marjorie Dean was destined one day to reach +the heights. + + + + +CHAPTER IX--A SUDDEN ATTACK + + +"Where were you yesterday afternoon?" demanded Jerry Macy, as Marjorie +walked into the locker room at the close of the morning session. + +Marjorie considered for a moment. Should she tell Jerry or should she +not? She decided in the negative. "I was at home a part of the +afternoon." + +Jerry measured her with a calculating eye. "You don't want to tell me, +do you?" was her blunt question. "All right. Forget it. Anyway, we +missed you. You're a mysterious person. One day you march off on a dark, +secret errand after making lavish promises to treat on the next. When +that day rolls around you don't appear at all. Never mind. I saved your +face by treating for you." Jerry delivered her opinion of her friend's +peculiar behavior good-humoredly enough. Underneath, however, she was a +tiny bit peeved. She was very fond of Marjorie and prided herself that +she was entirely in the latter's confidence. + +"You're not cross with me, are you, Jerry?" Marjorie regarded the stout +girl rather anxiously. She could not conceive of being on the outs with +funny, bluff Geraldine Macy. + +"No; I'm not a silly like Mignon," mumbled Jerry gruffly. "You ought to +know that by this time without asking me." + +"Jerry Macy, I believe you are angry with me," declared Marjorie, +looking still more troubled. + +"No, I'm not," came the quick retort. "I'm not blind, either, and my +head isn't made of wood." + +"What do you mean?" It was Marjorie's turn to speak quickly. + +"Just what I say," asserted Jerry. "You've had some sort of trouble over +that Farnham girl. Rowena--humph! It ought to be Row-ena with a special +accent on the _Row_. I knew by the way you looked and spoke of her day +before yesterday that something had gone wrong. I'll bet I know where +you went on that errand, too. You went to her house. Now didn't you?" + +Marjorie gave a short laugh. It held a note of vexation. "Really, Jerry, +you ought to be a detective. How did you know where I went yesterday +after I left you?" + +"Oh, I just guessed it. It's like you to do that sort of thing. I'm +dying to hear what it's all about. Are you going to tell me _now_?" She +accented the "now" quite triumphantly. + +"I hadn't intended to mention it to anyone, but I might as well tell +_you_. You seem to know quite a little bit about it already. I can't say +anything more now. Here come Susan and Muriel. We'll talk of it after we +leave them at their street. By the way, where is Constance? She wasn't +in school this morning." + +"Don't know. I wondered about her, too. She didn't say yesterday that +she wasn't coming to school to-day. Maybe her father marched into Gray +Gables without notice." + +"Perhaps. I'll ask the girls if they know." + +Neither Susan, Muriel nor Irma, the latter joining the quartette +immediately after, knew the reason for Constance Stevens' absence. The +five girls trooped out of the building together, chatting gaily as they +started home for luncheon. Marjorie gave a little shiver as it occurred +to her how near she had come to losing her right to be a pupil of +Sanford High. She felt that nothing save the loss of her dear ones would +have hurt her more than to have been dismissed from school under a +cloud. + +"Now tell me everything," began Jerry, the moment they had parted from +the three girls to continue on up the pleasant, tree-lined avenue. + +"I think that was simply _awful_," burst forth the now irate Jerry, as +Marjorie concluded her narration. "Talk about Mignon--she's an angel with +beautiful feathery wings, when you come to compare her with Row-ena. I +hope the Board says she can't set foot in school again. That's what I +hope. I'll tell my father to vote against letting her try any more +examinations. That's what I'll do." + +"You mustn't do that." Marjorie spoke with unusual severity. "What I've +said to you is in confidence. Besides, it wouldn't be fair. For her +father's and mother's sake I think she ought to have another chance. It +might be the very best thing for her to go to high school. She will be +far better off at home than away at boarding school. If she could go +away to a college it would be different. Colleges are more strict and +dignified. A girl just has to live up to their traditions. General says +that even in the most select boarding schools the girls have too much +liberty. So you see it wouldn't be a good place for this girl." + +"I see you're a goose," was Jerry's unflattering comment. "You're a dear +goose, though. You certainly have the reform habit. I can tell you, +though, that you are all wrong about this Farnham girl. You remember how +beautifully we reformed Mignon, and how grateful she was. Mignon's a +mere infant beside gentle, little Row-ena. You notice I still say _Row_. +It's a very good name for her. Of course, we could change off +occasionally and call her Fightena, or Quarrelena, or Scrapena." Jerry +giggled at her own witticism. + +Marjorie could not forbear joining her. Jerry's disapproval of things +was usually tinged with comedy. "You're a heartless person, Jeremiah," +she reproved lightly. "I'm not going to try to reform Miss Farnham. I +can't imagine her as taking kindly to it. I'm only saying that she ought +to have another chance." + +"Well, if you can stand it I can," Jerry sighed, then chuckled as her +vivid imagination pictured to her the high-handed Rowena struggling in +the clutches of reform. "Miss Archer ought to have thought twice and +spoken once," she added grimly. "That's what she's always preaching to +us to do." Jerry was no respecter of personages. + +"I can't blame her much," Marjorie shook her head. "It's dreadful to +think that someone you've trusted is dishonorable. It hurts a good deal +worse than if it were someone you had expected would fail you. I +_know_." + +"I suppose you do." Jerry understood the significant "I know." Rather +more gently she continued: "Perhaps you're right about Fightena, I mean +Row-ena. You generally are right, only you've got into some tangled webs +trying to prove it. Anyway, she won't be a junior if she does manage to +get into school. She'll be a sophomore. I hope she stays where she +belongs. You'd better look out for her, though. If she really thinks you +wrote that anonymous letter--I don't believe she does--she'll try to get +even. With Mignon La Salle to help, she might bother you a good deal. I +hope they have a falling out." + +"You are always hoping some terrible thing," laughed Marjorie. "You have +the hoping habit, and your hopes about other people are really +horrifying." + +"Never mind, they never amount to much," consoled Jerry with a chuckle. +"I've been hoping awful things about people I don't like for years and +that's all the good it's ever done." + +"I think I'll run over to Gray Gables after school," Marjorie changed +the subject with sudden abruptness. "Want to go with me?" + +"I'll go," assented Jerry. "I owe Charlie a box of candy. I promised it +to him the night of Mary's farewell party. Mary wrote me a dandy letter. +Did I tell you about it?" + +"No. I've had one from her, too; eighteen pages." + +"Some letter. Mine was only ten." + +The introduction of Mary's name into the conversation kept the two girls +busy talking until they were about to part company. + +"Don't forget you are going with me to see Constance," reminded Marjorie +as Jerry left her at the Macys' gate. + +"Do you believe that I could possibly forget?" Jerry laid a fat hand +over her heart in ridiculous imitation of a certain sentimental high +school youth whom Marjorie continually endeavored to dodge. + +"See that you don't," was her laughing retort. "Shall we ask Muriel, +Susan and Irma to go with us?" + +"None of them can go. Muriel has to take a piano lesson. Susan has a +date with her dressmaker, and Irma's going shopping with her mother. You +see I know everything about everybody," asserted Jerry, unconsciously +repeating Constance Stevens' very words. + +"You surely do," Marjorie agreed. "Good-bye, then. I'll meet you in the +locker room after school to-night." + +"My name is Johnny-on-the-spot," returned the irrepressible Jerry over +her shoulder. + +"Oh, dear!" Marjorie exclaimed in impatience, as she walked into the +locker room at the end of the afternoon session to find Jerry already +there ahead of her. "I've left my Caesar in my desk. I'll have to go back +after it. That lesson for to-morrow is dreadfully long. Somehow I +couldn't keep my attention on study that last hour, so I just bundled +all my books together and thought I'd put in a busy evening. I don't see +how I missed my Commentaries. It shows that my mind was wandering." + +"Come on over to my house this evening. You can use my Caesar. We'll put +one over on the busy little bee and have some fun afterward. Besides, +Hal will be grateful to me for a week. I'll make good use of his +gratitude, too," grinned wily Jerry. + +Marjorie's cheeks grew delightfully pink. In her frank, girlish fashion +she was very fond of Jerry's handsome brother. Although her liking for +him was not one of foolish sentimentality, she could not help being a +trifle pleased at this direct insinuation of his preference for her. + +"All right. I'm sure Captain will say 'yes,'" she made reply. "I won't +bother to go back after my book. If I did Miss Merton might snap at me. +I try to keep out of her way as much as I can. Where are the girls? Have +they gone?" + +"Yes, they beat it in a hurry. Come on. Let's be on our way." Though +deplorably addicted to slang, Jerry was at least forcefully succinct. + +It was a fairly long walk to Gray Gables, but their way led through one +of the prettiest parts of Sanford. Situated almost on the outskirts of +the town, the picturesque dwelling was in itself one of the beauty spots +of the thriving little city. + +"There's the Jail." Jerry indexed a plump finger toward the inhospitable +stone house which Marjorie had so lately visited. The two girls had +reached the point where a turn in the wide, elm-shaded avenue brought +them within sight of the La Salle and Farnham properties. "It would be a +good place for Row-ena, if she had to stay locked up there. She could +think over her sins and reform without help. I hope----" + +"There you go again," laughed Marjorie. "Don't do it. Suppose some day +all these things you have hoped about other people were to come back to +you." + +"I won't worry about it until they do," Jerry made optimistic answer. +"If I----" She checked herself to stare at a runabout that shot past them, +driven at a reckless rate of speed by an elfish-faced girl. "There they +go!" she exclaimed. "Did you see who was in that machine? Oh, look! +They're slowing up! Now they've stopped! I hope they've had a +break-down." + +Marjorie's eyes were already riveted on the runabout which they were now +approaching. A tall figure whom she at once recognized as belonging to +Rowena Farnham was in the act of emerging from the machine. Hatless, her +auburn head gleaming in the sun, her black eyes flaming challenge, she +stood at one side of the runabout, drawn up for battle. + +"She's waiting for us!" gasped Jerry. "Let's turn around and walk the +other way, just to fool her. No; let's not. I guess we can hold our +own." + +"I shall have nothing to say to her," decided Marjorie, a youthful +picture of cold disdain. "Don't you say a word, either, Jerry. We'll +walk on about our own business, just as though we didn't even see her." + +Jerry had no time to reply. Almost immediately they caught up with the +belligerent Rowena. Realizing that her quarry was about to elude her, +she sprang squarely in front of them with, "Wait a minute. I've +something to say to _you_." The "you" was directed at Marjorie. + +Marjorie was about to circle the lively impediment and move on, when +Mignon La Salle called from the runabout, "I told you she was a coward, +Rowena." A scornful laugh accompanied the insult. + +That settled it. Marjorie's recent resolution flew to the winds. "I will +hear whatever you have to say," she declared quietly, stopping short. + +"I don't very well see how you can do anything else," sneered Rowena. "I +suppose you think that you gained a great deal by your tale-bearing +yesterday, don't you? Let me tell you, you've made a mistake. I'm going +to be a sophomore in Sanford High School just the same. You'll see. You +are a sneaking little prig, and I'm going to make it my business to let +every girl in school know it. You can't----" + +"_You_ can't talk like that to Marjorie Dean." Before Marjorie could +reply, Jerry Macy leaped into a hot defense. "I won't have it! She is my +friend." + +"Shh! Jerry, please don't," Marjorie protested. + +"I will. Don't stop me. You," she glared at Rowena, "make me sick. I +could tell you in about one minute where you get off at, but it isn't +worth the waste of breath. Marjorie Dean has more friends in a minute in +Sanford High than you'll ever have. You think you and Mignon La Salle +can do a whole lot. Better not try it, you'll wish you hadn't. Now get +busy and beat it. You're blocking the highway." + +"What a delightful person you are," jeered Rowena. "Just the sort of +friend I'd imagine Miss Dean might have. As I have had the pleasure of +telling her what I think of her, you may as well hear my opinion of +yourself. You are the rudest girl I ever met, and the slangiest. My +father and mother would never forgive me if they knew I even spoke to +such a girl." Having delivered herself of this Parthian shot, Rowena +wheeled and stepped into the runabout with, "Go ahead, Mignon. I don't +care to be seen talking with such persons." + +As the runabout started away with a defiant chug, Jerry and Marjorie +stared at each other in silence. + +"I hope----" began Jerry, then stopped. "Say," she went on the next +instant, "that was what Hal would call a hot shot, wasn't it?" + +"It was," Marjorie admitted. In spite of her vexation at the unexpected +attack, she could hardly repress a smile. Quite unknowingly Rowena had +attacked Jerry's pet failing. Her constant use of popular slang was a +severe cross to both her father and mother. Over and over she had been +lectured by them on this very subject, only to maintain that if Hal used +slang she saw no reason why she shouldn't. To please them she made +spasmodic efforts toward polite English, but when excited or angry she +was certain to drop back into this forceful but inelegant vernacular. + +"I suppose I do use a whole lot of slang." Jerry made the admission +rather ruefully. "Mother says I'm the limit. There I go again. I mean +mother says I'm--what am I?" she asked with a giggle. + +"You are a very good friend, Jerry." Marjorie looked her affection for +the crestfallen champion of her rights. "I wouldn't worry about what +she--Miss Farnham says. If you think you ought not to use slang, then +just try not to use it." Marjorie was too greatly touched by Jerry's +loyalty to peck at this minor failing. "What a strange combination those +two girls make!" she mused. "I can't imagine them being friends for very +long. They are both too fond of having their own way. I must say I +wasn't scared by all those threats. It isn't what others say about one +that counts, it's what one really is that makes a difference." + +"That's just what I think," agreed Jerry. "We all know Mignon so well +now that we can pretty nearly beat her at her own game. As for this +Rowena, she'd better wait until she gets back into Sanford High before +she plans to do much. All that sort of thing is so silly and useless, +now isn't it? It reminds me of these blood-and-thunder movies like 'The +Curse of a Red Hot Hate,' or 'The Double-dyed Villain's Horrible +Revenge,' or 'The Iron Hand of Hatred's Death-Dealing Wallop.'" Jerry +saw fit to chuckle at this last creation of fancifully appropriate +title. "You're right about those two, though. Don't you remember I said +the same thing when I first told you of this Farnham girl? Mignon has +met her match, at last. She'll find it out, too, before she's many weeks +older, or my name's not Jerry Macy." + + + + +CHAPTER X--A CRUSHING PENALTY + + +As Jerry had guessed, Constance Stevens' absence from school was due to +the fact that her foster-father had descended upon Gray Gables for a +brief visit. He was delighted to see both Marjorie and Jerry. Constance +insisted that they should remain to dinner, whereupon the tireless +telephone was put into use and the two remained at Gray Gables, there to +spend a most agreeable evening. At about eleven o'clock Hal Macy +appeared to take them home in the Macy's smart limousine. Thus, in the +pleasure of being with her friends, Marjorie quite forgot the +disagreeable incident that had earlier befallen herself and Jerry. +Strange to say, Caesar's Commentaries, also, faded from recollection, and +it was not until they were driving home that the estimable Roman was +tardily remembered along with previous good intentions. "It's unprepared +for ours," was Jerry's doleful cry, thereby proving that the will to +abolish slang was better than the deed. + +Due to placing pleasure before duty, Marjorie felt it incumbent upon her +to make an early entrance into school the next morning for the purpose +of taking a hasty peep at her neglected text books. She was lucky, she +told herself, in that the last hour in the morning would give her an +opportunity to go over her Caesar lesson. She, therefore, confined her +attention to her English literature, deciding that she could somehow +manage to slide through her French without absolute failure. Civil +government would also have to take its chance for one recitation. + +When at fifteen minutes past eleven she came into the study hall from +French class and settled herself to begin the business of Latin, she was +for once glad to lay hold on the fat, green volume devoted to the doings +of the invincible Caesar. Opening it, a faint cluck of surprise fell from +her lips as she took from it a square, white envelope addressed to +herself. It was unsealed and as she drew forth the folded paper which it +held she wondered mightily how it had come to be there. She was very +sure she had not placed it in the book. Her bewilderment deepened as she +read: + + "Miss Dean: + + "After what occurred the other day in the principal's office it is + surprising that you were not expelled from Sanford High School. It + proves you to be a special pet of Miss Archer. Such unfairness is + contemptible in a principal. It should be exposed, along with your + dishonesty. Sooner or later even that will be found out and you will + receive your just deserts. It is a long lane that has no turning. + + "The Observer." + +Marjorie emitted a faint sigh of pure amazement as she finished reading +this sinister prediction of her ultimate downfall. It was a piece of +rank absurdity, evidently penned by someone who had no intimate +knowledge of inside facts. Still it filled her with a curious sense of +horror. She loathed the very idea of an anonymous letter. Once before +since she had first set foot in Sanford High the experience of receiving +one of these mysterious communications had been hers. It had pertained +to basket ball, however. She had easily guessed its origin and it had +troubled her little. This letter was of an entirely different character. +It proved that among the girls with whom she daily met and associated +there was one, at least, who did not wish her well. + +As she reread the spiteful message, her thoughts leaped to Rowena +Farnham as the person most open to suspicion. Yet Rowena had made a +direct attack upon her. Again there was Mignon. She was wholly capable +of such a deed. Strangely enough, Marjorie was seized with the belief +that neither girl was responsible for it. She did not know why she +believed this to be true. She simply accepted it as such, and cudgelled +her brain for another more plausible solution of the mystery. + +As she studied it the more she became convinced that the writing was the +same as that of the similarly signed letter Miss Archer had received. +The stationery, too, was the same. The words, "The Observer," were the +crowning proof which entirely exonerated Rowena. She had certainly not +written the first note. Therefore, she had not written the second. +Marjorie was in a quandary as to whether or not she should go frankly to +the principal and exhibit the letter. She felt that Miss Archer would +wish to see it, and at once take the matter up. She could hardly charge +Rowena with it, thereby lessening her chances of entering the school. +This second note made no mention of Rowena. Its spitefulness was +directed entirely toward Marjorie herself. As it pertained wholly to +her, she believed that it might be better to keep the affair locked +within her own breast. After all, it might amount to nothing. No doubt, +Rowena had related her own version of the algebra problem to Mignon. +Mignon was noted for her malicious powers of gossip. A garbled account +on her part of the matter might have aroused some one of her few allies +to this cowardly method of attack. Still this explanation would not +cover the writing of the first letter. + +Quite at sea regarding its source, Marjorie gave the distasteful missive +an impatient little flip that sent it fluttering off her desk to the +floor. Reaching down she lifted it, holding it away from her as though +it were a noisome weed. She burned to tear it into bits, but an inner +prompting stayed her destroying hands. Replacing it in the envelope, she +tucked it inside her silk blouse, determining to file it away at home in +case she needed it for future reference. She hoped, however, that it +would never be needed. Whoever had slipped it into her Caesar must have +done so after she had left her desk on the previous afternoon, following +the close of the session. She wished she knew those who had lingered in +the study hall after half-past three. This she was not likely to learn. +Her own intimate friends had all passed out of the study hall at the +ringing of the closing bell. She resolved that she would make casual +inquiries elsewhere in the hope of finding a clue. + +During the rest of the week she pursued this course with tactful +assiduousness, but she could discover nothing worth while. What she did +learn, however, was that due to a strenuous appeal to the Board of +Education on the part of Mr. Farnham, his daughter had been allowed, on +strict promise of future good behavior, to try an entirely new set of +examinations. Fortune must have attended her, for on the next Monday she +appeared in the study hall as radiantly triumphant as though she had +received a great honor, rather than a reluctant admission into the +sophomore fold. + +"Well, she got there!" hailed Jerry Macy in high disgust, happening to +meet Marjorie in the corridor between classes on the morning of Rowena's +retarded arrival. "My father said they had quite a time about it. She +got into school by just one vote. He wouldn't tell me which way he +voted, but he said he was glad she wasn't his daughter." + +"I'm honestly glad for hers and her parents' sake that she was allowed +another trial." Marjorie spoke with sincere earnestness. "She's had a +severe lesson. She may profit by it and get along without any more +trouble." + +"Profit by nothing," grumbled Jerry. "She can't change her disposition +any more than a cat can grow feathers or an ostrich whiskers. Row-ena, +Scrapena, Fightena, Quarrelena she is and will be forever and forever. +Let's not talk about her. She makes me--I mean I feel somewhat languid +whenever her name is mentioned." Jerry delivered her polite emendation +with irresistible drollery. "Did you know that there's to be a junior +basket ball try-out next Tuesday after school?" + +"No." Marjorie's interest was aroused. "Who told you? It certainly +hasn't been announced." + +"Ellen Seymour told me. She's going to help Miss Davis manage the team +this year in Marcia Arnold's place. I imagine she'll do most of the +managing. I guess Miss Davis had enough of basket ball last year. She +told Ellen that it took up too much of her time. She knew, I guess, that +the upper class girls wouldn't relish her interference. Ellen says you +must be sure to be at the try-out. She hopes you----" Jerry left off +speaking and looked sheepish. + +"Well, why don't you finish? What does Ellen wish me to do?" + +"You'll find out at the try-out. Now don't ask me any more questions +about it." Jerry's cheerful grin belied her brusque words. + +"You're a very tantalizing person," smiled Marjorie. "There goes the +second bell. I'll see you later." She scudded away, wondering what it +was that Jerry had stoutly refused to reveal. Evidently, it must be +something of pleasant import, else Jerry would have frowned rather than +smiled. + +The next day, directly after opening exercises, Miss Merton dryly read +out the official call to the try-out. It was received by the junior +section with an audible joy which she sternly quenched. Miss Merton was +in even less sympathy with "that rough-and-tumble game" than she was +with the girls who elected to play it. It was directly due to her that +Miss Davis had lost interest in it. + +To those intimately interested in making the junior team, the Tuesday +afternoon session seemed interminable. Eager eyes frequently consulted +the moon-faced study-hall clock, as its hands traveled imperturbably +toward the hour of reprieve. Would half-past three never come? At ten +minutes past three Muriel Harding's impatience vented itself in the +writing of a heart-felt complaint to Marjorie. She wrote: + + "This afternoon is one hundred years long. Darling Miss Merton + wishes it was two hundred. The very idea that we are going to the + try-out gives her pain. She hates herself, but she hates basket ball + worse. If I should invite her to the try-out she would gobble me up. + So I shall not risk my precious self. You may do the inviting." + +This uncomplimentary tribute to Miss Merton was whisked successfully +down the section and into Marjorie's hands. As note-passing was +obnoxious to the crabbed teacher, Muriel had neither addressed nor +signed it. She had craftily whispered her instructions to the girl ahead +of her, who had obligingly repeated them to the next and so on down the +row. Unfortunately, Miss Merton's eyes had spied it on its journey. She +instantly left her desk to pounce upon it at the moment it was delivered +into Marjorie's keeping. + +"You may give me that note, Miss Dean," she thundered, extending a thin, +rigid hand. + +"Pardon me, Miss Merton, but this note is for _me_." Her fingers closing +about it, Marjorie lifted resolute, brown eyes to the disagreeable face +above her. + +"Give it to me instantly. You are an impertinent young woman." Miss +Merton glared down as though quite ready to take Marjorie by the +shoulders and shake her. + +Back in her own seat, Muriel Harding was divided between admiration for +Marjorie and fear that she would yield to Miss Merton's demand. Despite +lack of signature, the latter would have little trouble in identifying +the writer were she given a chance to read the note. Muriel saw trouble +looming darkly on her horizon. + +"I am sorry you think me impertinent. I do not mean to be." The soft +voice rang with quiet decision. "But I cannot give you this note." +Marjorie calmly put the note in her blouse, and, folding her hands, +awaited the storm. + +"You will stay here to-night until you give it to me," decreed Miss +Merton grimly. Beaten for the time, she stalked back to her desk, quite +aware that she could hardly have imposed a more crushing penalty. True, +her effort to obtain the note had been fruitless, but one thing was +patent: Marjorie Dean would not be present at the junior basket ball +try-out. + + + + +CHAPTER XI--AT THE ELEVENTH HOUR + + +Left to herself for a brief respite, Marjorie drew out the note and read +it. An expression of amused consternation flashed into her eyes as she +took in its spirit. Knowing the writing to be Muriel's she was now glad +she had stood her ground. Note writing was not forbidden in Sanford High +and never had been. Miss Merton alone, of all the teachers, strenuously +opposed it. To be sure, it was not regarded by them with special favor. +Nevertheless, in the class-rooms no one was ever taken to task for it +unless it seriously interfered with the recitation. Marjorie did not +know Miss Archer's views on the subject, but she believed her principal +too great-minded to cavil at such trifles. + +The instant she had finished reading the note, she reduced it to +unreadable bits, leaving them in plain sight on her desk. Not by so much +as a backward glance did she betray the writer. Knowing Miss Merton to +be on the alert, she took no chances. Should the latter send her to Miss +Archer, she would very quickly express herself on the subject. As a +junior she believed that the time for treating her as a member of the +primary grade had long since passed. + +It was not until she had effectually blocked all possibility of the note +falling into Miss Merton's possession that she remembered the try-out. +Her heart sank as she recalled what a lengthy, lonely stay in the study +hall meant. The try-out would go on without her. She would lose all +chance of obtaining a place on the junior team. Her changeful face paled +a trifle as she sadly accepted this dire disaster to her hopes. If only +Muriel had not written that note. + +The first closing bell sent a tremor of despair to her heavy heart. She +wondered how long Miss Merton would detain her. She had said, "You will +stay here to-night until you give it to me." Even in the midst of +misfortune the edict took a humorous turn. She had a vision of herself +and Miss Merton keeping a lonely, all-night vigil in the study hall. + +At the second bell the long lines of girls began a decorous filing down +the aisles to the great doors. Marjorie watched them go, vainly +pondering on why, thus far, her junior year had been so filled with +mishaps. A bad beginning sometimes made a good ending was her only +comforting reflection. She hoped that in her case it would prove true. + +"Why are you staying, Miss Harding?" rasped forth Miss Merton when the +big room had at last emptied itself. + +Marjorie faced about with a start. She had not reckoned on this. She +made a desperate sign to Muriel to go. Muriel merely shook an obstinate +head. Then she announced bravely, "I wrote that note to Miss Dean." + +"Then you may remain in your seat," snapped the frowning teacher. "Miss +Dean, do you intend to give me that note?" + +"I have destroyed it," came the calm reply. + +"You are determined to defy me, I see. Very well, you may tell me the +contents of it. I saw you read it after I had returned to my desk." + +"I have nothing to say," Marjorie replied with terse obstinacy. + +"Miss Harding, _you_ may tell me what you wrote." Miss Merton suddenly +swung her attack from Marjorie to Muriel. + +"I will not." Muriel spoke with hot decision. "Neither Miss Dean nor I +are grammar school children. I see no reason why we should be treated as +such. I think it very ridiculous, and I will not submit to it. You may +send me to Miss Archer if you like. I am quite ready to say to her what +I have just said to you." + +As Muriel's challenge of defiance cut the storm-laden atmosphere, a most +unexpected thing happened. Almost as if the mere mention of her name had +served to bring her to the scene, Miss Archer walked into the study +hall. She had come in time to catch Muriel's last sentence, and her +quick faculties had leaped to conclusion. + +"What is it that you are quite ready to say to me, Miss Harding?" was +her grave interrogation. + +Miss Merton's sallow cheeks took on a lively tinge of red. She was not +specially anxious to bring Miss Archer into the discussion. Had the +recipient of the note been other than Marjorie Dean, she would have +allowed the incident to pass with a caustic rebuke. But her dislike for +the winsome girl was deep-rooted. She could never resist the slightest +opportunity to vent it publicly. + +"I wrote a note to Miss Dean, Miss Archer," burst forth Muriel. "Miss +Merton asked Miss Dean for it and she wouldn't give it to her. So Miss +Merton said she must stay here until she did. Miss Dean tore the note +up. I stayed because I wrote it. Miss Merton says we must tell her what +was in that note. I won't do it. Neither will Marjorie. I just said that +I did not think we ought to be treated like grammar-school children. I +said, too, that I would be willing to say so to you, and I have." + +Miss Archer's quizzical gaze traveled from Muriel's flushed face to +Marjorie's composed features. Here was, indeed, a problem in that +unknown quantity, girl nature. Miss Archer was too thoroughly acquainted +with the ways of girls not to comprehend what lay beneath this out and +out defiance of Miss Merton's commands. She understood, if Miss Merton +did not, or would not, the rather overdrawn sense of school-girl honor +which prompted the rebellion. She knew that except in extreme cases, +there was little to be obtained by using force. It was all too likely to +defeat its own object. + +"The attitude of these two young women toward me is insufferable." Miss +Merton now took up a harsh stand. She did not intend the principal +should allow the matter to be passed over lightly. "Miss Dean, in +particular, has been most disrespectful. In fact, ever since she became +a pupil of this school she has derived an especial delight from annoying +me." + +Miss Archer's face wore an inscrutable expression as she listened. Years +of association with Miss Merton had taught her to read between the +lines. Yet she knew she must now proceed with the utmost diplomacy. As a +teacher Miss Merton was entitled to the respect of her pupils. She had +an inner conviction, however, that the irate woman was piling injustice +upon Marjorie's shoulders. She herself was beginning to understand the +girl's motives could never be classed as unworthy. Young in years, she +possessed already a breadth of mind which Miss Merton could never hope +to attain. + +"You are entitled to the utmost respect on the part of your pupils, Miss +Merton," she levelly acknowledged. "I am sorry to hear bad reports of +any of my pupils. I am sure that Miss Harding and Miss Dean will rectify +the matter with an apology. As for the note, perhaps it might be wiser +to allow the matter to drop." + +"Girls," she now addressed the belligerents, "it seems to me that, as +long as note-writing has proved a source of trouble to you, you might +better give up the practice. Let me ask you a question. Was there any +grave and important reason for writing that note?" + +Muriel Harding hung her head. "No, Miss Archer," came her low answer. + +Marjorie's pale face took on a faint glow of pink. "It was not +necessary," she admitted. + +"Very well. You have both agreed that it was unnecessary. My advice to +you is to discontinue the practice. I must insist that both of you make +apology to Miss Merton for the annoyance you have caused." + +"Miss Merton, I regret that you should have been annoyed by me." +Marjorie made an immediate and dignified apology, which was perfectly +sincere on her part. For more reasons than one she deplored the +annoyance. + +Muriel, however, hesitated a second or two before committing herself. +Suddenly it dawned upon her that Miss Archer's demand for apology had a +deeper significance. She thereupon made haste to repeat Marjorie's exact +words. + +Miss Merton received both apologetic speeches in black silence. She was +inwardly furious with the principal, not only for her unexpected +intrusion, but for the lax manner in which she had administered +discipline. At least, Miss Merton considered it distinctly lax. Still, +she knew that it would be in bad taste to try to overrule the +principal's decision. "You are dismissed," she said stiffly. "See to it +that you conduct yourselves properly hereafter." She could not resist +this one touch of authority. + +The ex-culprits lost no time in leaving the study hall behind them. Not +a word passed between them until the door of the junior locker room had +closed upon them. Their eyes meeting, they burst into laughter, +discreetly subdued, but most expressive of their feelings. Each mind +held the same thought. What would Miss Merton have said had she read the +note? + + + + +CHAPTER XII--A DOUBTFUL VICTORY + + +"Marjorie Dean, you are true blue!" exclaimed Muriel. "Whatever +possessed me to write that awful note? If Miss Merton had read it--well, +you can guess what would have happened. I shook in my shoes when I heard +her ask you for it." + +"I'm glad I didn't give it to her." An angry sparkle leaped into +Marjorie's soft eyes. "She only made a fuss about it because it was I +who had it. I think Miss Archer understood that. I love her for it. She +treats us always as though we were young women; not as naughty children. +But we mustn't stand here. It's four o'clock now. I am afraid we won't +have a chance to play. Only about fifteen or twenty juniors are going to +try for the team. It may be made already." Marjorie picked up the bag +which contained her basket ball suit and tennis shoes. + +"Let us hustle along then," urged Muriel. Seizing her friend by one +hand, her luggage in the other, the two raced for the gymnasium, hoping +against hope. + +"It's all over." Muriel cried out in disappointment as they entered the +great room. + +"I am afraid so," faltered Marjorie, as she noted the group of +bloomer-clad girls standing idle at one end of the gymnasium. Here and +there about the floor were others in uniform. Altogether she counted +eighteen. Ellen Seymour and two other seniors were seated on the +platform, their chairs drawn together, their attention apparently fixed +on a pad on Ellen's knee. Spectators had been firmly but politely denied +admission. Ellen had pronounced them a detriment to the try-out and +elected that they should remain away. + +"Hello, Marjorie Dean," joyfully called out Harriet Delaney. As she +hailed Marjorie she ran toward the two girls. "We thought you were lost +to us forever. Where were you, Muriel? You surely didn't have to stay." + +"Did you make the team?" was Muriel's excited query. + +"Not yet." Harriet's eyes twinkled. "The try-out hasn't begun yet." + +"Hasn't begun!" echoed two voices. + +"No. Ellen was awfully cross about the way Miss Merton acted, so she +said we'd wait for Marjorie. Then, when Muriel didn't appear, she said, +that if neither of you materialized, she would have the try-out put off +until to-morrow. Miss Davis is so busy with that new system of +gymnastics she's going to adopt this year that she's left basket ball to +Ellen. I don't see how she could help herself, though. Last year the +juniors and seniors ran their own teams." + +"Ellen's a dear," exulted Muriel. "We are lucky to have her for manager. +Marjorie and I will be her grateful slaves for the rest of the year. I +wrote that note; so, naturally, I had to stay and face the music." + +"You did!" It was Harriet who now registered surprise. "What was in it?" + +Muriel giggled. She could now afford to laugh. "Oh, a lot of sweet +things about Miss Merton. You can guess just how sweet they were." + +"Goodness!" breathed Harriet. "No wonder Marjorie wouldn't give it up. +She--why, she's gone!" + +Marjorie had stopped only to greet Harriet. While Muriel was explaining +matters, she slipped away to the platform where Ellen Seymour sat. "It +was splendid in you, Ellen!" she burst forth, as she reached the +senior's side. "Thank you, ever so much." + +"Hurrah! Here's Marjorie." Ellen sprang up, her pleasant face breaking +into a smile. "I'm so glad you came at last, and so sorry for what +happened. You must tell me how you came out. But not now. We shall have +to hustle to make up for lost time. I suppose you know Miss Elbert and +Miss Horner. No?" Ellen promptly performed introductions. + +"Pleased to meet you," nodded both young women. Neither looked specially +delighted. Miss Elbert, a small, plump girl with near-sighted, gray +eyes, bowed in reserved fashion. Miss Horner, a rather pretty brunette, +acknowledged the introduction with languid grace. Marjorie had long +known both by sight. On two different occasions she had been introduced +to Miss Horner. Afterward, on meeting her in the street, the latter had +made no sign of recognition. + +"I suppose you are satisfied now, Ellen," drawled Miss Horner sweetly. +"You are lucky, Miss Dean, to have Ellen for a champion. She insisted +that we must wait for you." + +"I am very grateful to her," Marjorie made courteous reply. Had there +lurked a touch of sarcasm in the other's polite comment? + +"Miss Merton is altogether too fussy," remarked Miss Elbert. Her blunt +tone quite belied her reserved nod. "She tried that with me last year. +It didn't work, though." Her air of constraint vanished in a bright +glance, which indicated friendliness. + +"You must remember that she has a great deal to try her," reminded Miss +Horner softly. + +Again Marjorie thought she sensed hostility. She laid it to the +supposition that Miss Horner was, perhaps, a trifle peevish at being +delayed. Yet she could not resist the quiet comment, "Miss Merton is +also very trying." + +"Of course she is," agreed Ellen warmly. "You know it as well as we do, +Charlotte Horner. _You_ have no cause to love her. Just remember how +cranky she was to you during your freshman year." + +"That was a long time ago," shrugged the senior. "I understand her much +better now than then." The placid answer held a suspicion of +condescending approval of Miss Merton. + +"I'm glad someone does," flung back Ellen with careless good humor. +"Hurry along, Marjorie, and get into your basket ball suit. I shouldn't +have kept you talking." Drawing her aside, she whispered: "I'd rather +see you play center on the team than any girl I know." + +"It seems to me, Ellen," drawled Charlotte Horner, as her indolent gaze +followed Marjorie across the floor to the dressing room, "that you are +babying that Miss Dean entirely too much. Someone told me the other day +that she has a bad attack of swelled head. I must say, I think her +self-opinionated. She answered me very pertly." + +"If you mean her remark about Miss Merton, she only spoke the truth," +defended Ellen hotly, completely astonished by this unexpected attack on +Marjorie. "She is not in the least self-opinionated nor vain. It's +remarkable that she isn't. She is very pretty and awfully popular." + +"Glad you told me," murmured the other, lazily unbelieving. "I know +several girls with whom she is not particularly popular." + +To this Ellen made no response. With vexation at her own stupidity, she +now remembered too late that Charlotte Horner had always been rather +friendly with Mignon La Salle. Remembering only Charlotte's undeniable +prowess as a basket ball player, she had asked her to act with herself +and Leila Elbert as one of the three judges at the try-out. This +explained why Charlotte had not been in favor of postponing the try-out +in case Marjorie were detained indefinitely. Ellen found herself hoping +that personal prejudice would not influence Charlotte to decry +Marjorie's work on the floor. + +"I think Miss Dean is very nice." It was Leila Elbert who made this +announcement. Her reserved manner had arisen merely from shyness. She +was a quiet, diffident girl, who, beyond an enthusiasm for basket ball, +had mixed little with the social side of high school. She was an expert +player who had been on the same team with Ellen during her freshman, +sophomore and junior years. Accordingly, she was eminently fitted to +judge the merits of the respective contestants. + +"That's sweet in you." Ellen flashed her a grateful look. It would be +two against one in Marjorie's favor. + +Within ten minutes after seeking the dressing room Marjorie issued from +it ready for the fray, wearing her sophomore basket ball uniform. +Running up to Ellen she announced: "I am ready. So is Muriel." In a +lower tone she added: "It was dear in you to wish me well." Then she +trotted over and joined the contestants, who had gradually collected in +one spot. + +"All right." Ellen left the platform and approached the fruitful +material for junior honors. "Girls," she began, with an elaborate bow, +"behold your stern manager." + +She was interrupted by giggling applause. Cheerful Ellen Seymour was +beloved throughout Sanford High School. + +"Much obliged," she nodded gaily. "As I was saying when interrupted by +your heart-felt appreciation, _I_ am your manager. This year there will +be no senior team. The seniors have soared to heights beyond mere basket +ball. I had to soar with them, though I wasn't in a soaring mood. Since +I can't play the good old game alone, I've decided to bury my +disappointment in managership. Of course, you know that you can't all +play. So if you're not chosen, don't be disappointed. It's going to be +an absolutely fair try-out. If you're chosen, it is because you are a +better player than the girl who isn't. Now please line up until I count +you over." + +It was a nondescript line that whipped itself promptly into position. +There were the five gray-clad girls who had made up Mignon La Salle's +famous team. There were also the five black-garbed players who had +comprised Marjorie's squad. Besides these were ten new applicants in +blue gymnasium suits who had not been fortunate enough to make either of +the two teams that had striven against each other in the sophomore year. +These girls had decided to try again, hoping that better luck would be +theirs. + +Marjorie thrilled with excitement as she cast a quick glance up and down +the line. Every face was set in determined fashion. It was going to be +much harder than ever before to make the team. + +Ellen Seymour walked up and down the row of girls with the air of a +general. She was shrewdly calculating the best plan of action. It would +hardly be fair to try out the black and scarlet girls against the grays, +leaving the other ten of lesser experience to play against each other. +Among the new girls there was, undoubtedly, some excellent material +which contact with the regular players was sure to bring out. She, +therefore, chose five blues to play against two grays and three black +and scarlet girls. Mignon and Daisy Griggs represented the grays, +Marjorie, Susan and Harriet Delaney the black and scarlet. + +Clearing the floor of the others, Ellen signaled the two teams to their +places and soon had the ball in play. It seemed very strange to Marjorie +to find herself once more on the same team with Mignon La Salle. She was +too busy attending to her own affairs, however, to give it more than a +passing thought. Centering her whole mind on her work she played with +her usual snap and brilliancy. + +After twenty minutes' energetic work, the warning whistle sounded +retreat. Then the other ten girls remaining were ordered to the floor to +show what they could do. When, after the same allowance of time, they +had been called off, the three judges went into consultation with the +result that ten names were struck from the list Ellen held. These names +Ellen read out, expressing a regret for the failure of their owners to +make good that was in a measure quite consoling. They left the floor to +their more fortunate sisters apparently with the best possible grace, +considering the disappointment that was theirs. + +There were still left Susan, Muriel, Marjorie, Mignon, Daisy Griggs and +Anne Easton of the seasoned teams. The other were four of the blue-clad +girls who had done surprisingly well. These ten were again divided into +opposing fives and went at it with a will. + +T-r-ill! Ellen's whistle at last called an end to the spirited fray. The +girls pattered off the playing floor. Grouped together they breathlessly +awaited the verdict. + +This time it was longer in coming. Up on the judge's stand, Ellen +Seymour found herself participating in the wrangle with Charlotte +Horner, which she had anticipated. But Marjorie was not alone subject of +it. It was Mignon's basket ball future, too, that now tottered. Four +names had been struck off the list of ten. It lay between Mignon and +Marjorie Dean as to whom the fifth should be. + +"Mignon is a better player than this Dean girl," sharply argued +Charlotte Horner. "But poor Mignon simply wasn't up to her usual form +to-day." + +"But it's to-day that counts, else why have a try-out?" protested Ellen. +"Marjorie has completely outplayed her in this last test. I consider +Marjorie the better player at any time. She is reliable. Mignon isn't. I +insist that Marjorie shall have the position. I think she's the best +player of the whole team." + +"And _I_ insist that Mignon must have it." In her anger Charlotte forgot +her usual languid drawl. + +"It rests with Leila." Ellen shrugged her shoulders. "What is your +opinion, Leila?" + +"Miss Dean is the better player," declared Leila stolidly. "Anyone can +see that." + +"Two against one. The ayes have it." Ellen drew a firm pencil through +Mignon's name. + +And thus Marjorie Dean won a victory over Mignon La Salle, which was +destined to bring her a great deal of unhappiness. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII--UNSEEN; UNKNOWN; UNGUESSED + + +Outside the school building Jerry Macy and Irma Linton were holding a +patient vigil. Not permitted to witness the try-out they had declared +their intention of waiting across the street for their friends. +Confidently expecting that their wait would be long, they had set off +for Sargent's directly after school, there to while away at least a part +of the time. It was twenty minutes after four when they returned to the +school and determinedly perched themselves upon the top step of the long +flight where they proposed to remain stationed until the try-out should +be over. As ardent fans, they had a lively curiosity to know as soon as +possible the results of the contest. They were also deeply concerned as +to what had transpired between Marjorie and Miss Merton. + +"Good gracious!" grumbled Jerry, as she frowningly consulted her wrist +watch. "When do you suppose it will be over? It's half-past five now. I +hope----" + +"Hark!" Irma raised a warning hand. "I hear voices. Here they come at +last." + +As she spoke the heavy door behind her swung open. One after another the +contestants began issuing forth to unite into little groups as they +passed down the steps to the street. Jerry and Irma were now on their +feet eagerly watching for their friends. Jerry's shrewd power of +observation had already been put to good use. Thus far she glimpsed +defeat in the faces of those who passed. Among them was Mignon La Salle. +Her arm linked in that of Charlotte Horner, the French girl was carrying +on a low-toned monologue, the very nature of which could be read in the +stormy play of her lowering features. + +Jerry gave Irma a significant nudge as Mignon switched past them without +sign of recognition. Irma nodded slightly to show that she understood +its import. She, too, had guessed that Mignon had not made the team. + +"At last!" Jerry sighed relief, as Marjorie stepped across the +threshold, followed by Susan, Muriel and Daisy Griggs. "What's the good +word?" She hailed. + +"We are the real people," boasted Muriel Harding, a throbbing note of +triumph in her light tones. "Marjorie, Susan, Daisy and I made the team. +The fifth girl is Rita Talbot. She was the only one of the blues chosen. +Poor Harriet didn't make it. Neither did Esther. Harriet's been chosen +as a sub, though. She has that queer little green-eyed Warner girl. +She's such a quiet mouse, I never even dreamed she could play basket +ball. She can, though." Muriel rattled off all this, hardly stopping to +take breath. + +"So dear Miss Merton changed her mind," burst forth Jerry irrelevantly. +"How long did she keep you, Marjorie? What did she say?" They had now +progressed as far as the sidewalk and had halted there to talk. + +Marjorie entered into brief details, giving Muriel the lion's share of +credit for her blunt explanation to Miss Archer. "If Muriel hadn't +spoken so plainly, Miss Archer might not have seen things in the right +light," she ended. + +"Don't you believe it," disagreed Jerry. "Miss Archer knows Miss Merton +like a book. It's a real comfort to have a principal like her. Say, I'll +bet Mignon is so mad she can't see straight. You should have seen her +when she passed us. She was talking a blue streak to that Miss Horner. +She was one of the judges, wasn't she?" + +"Yes." Marjorie's face clouded at mention of the languidly spoken +senior. It now occurred to her that she had not been at fault in +believing that Charlotte Horner disliked her. No doubt Mignon was the +motive for her dislike. Like Ellen, she, too, tardily recalled that the +two had been occasionally seen together last year. It might account also +for the emphatic wagging of heads that had gone on among the three +judges before the final result of the try-out had been announced. + +"I suppose you are going to play the sophomores." Irma's soft intonation +brought Marjorie out of her brown study. + +"Of course." It was Daisy Griggs who answered. "They are to have their +try-out to-morrow afternoon. I don't believe we will be ready to play +them before November. We have a lot of practice ahead of us. We'll have +to have new suits, too. But we won't know until we have a meeting what +colors to choose. We ought to ask the subs what they'd like. We can't +very well go by the junior colors this year. They are deep crimson and +white, you know. We couldn't possibly have white suits with a crimson J, +and crimson suits wouldn't be pretty, either." + +"_I_ think they _would_," put in Muriel Harding stoutly. "We could have +our suits of a little darker crimson than the class color. They would be +stunning with a white J on the blouse and a wide, rolling collar of +white broadcloth. Besides, crimson is a victorious color. We'd just have +to win. It would be inspiring." + +"It sounds good to me," approved Susan. "They'd certainly be different +from any we've ever had. We could all put together and buy the cloth. +Then have them made by one person instead of each going to our own +dressmaker." + +"I think that would be nice," nodded Marjorie. "But we want to please +Daisy, too, so perhaps----" + +"Oh, I don't mind. Just so they aren't a glaring red," hastily amended +Daisy. "I suppose the subs will want to have new suits, too. We ought to +call a meeting of the team some time this week. That reminds me, we +don't know yet who is to be captain. You ought to be, Marjorie. I think +Ellen will ask you." + +"No." Marjorie shook a decided head. "To be given center is honor enough +for me. Girls, I'd love to have Muriel for captain. She'd be simply +splendid." + +"Oh, no, not me," protested Muriel in ungrammatical confusion. +Nevertheless, she flushed with pleasure at Marjorie's generous proposal. + +"That would be fine," asserted Susan Atwell heartily. She was not in the +least jealous because Marjorie had not proposed her for the honor. She +had long since learned that Marjorie Dean was incapable of showing +favoritism. She had selected Muriel strictly with the good of the team +in mind. + +"Let's ask Ellen if we can't have Muriel," said Daisy Griggs earnestly. + +"You see three of us are of the same mind," Marjorie pointed out with a +smile. "I know Rita will say so, too. But where are she and Harriet?" + +"Still in the gym, I guess, with Ellen. Harriet lives next door to +Ellen," reminded Susan. "They'll be along presently." + +"I can't wait for them," Marjorie demurred. "It's almost six. Captain +will wonder why I'm so late. Come on, Jerry and Irma," she called. Jerry +and Irma had wandered a little away from the group and were deeply +engaged in earnest discussion. "How many of you are going our way?" + +"I'm going to my aunt's for dinner," said Muriel. "So I'll say good-bye. +Daisy goes my way, too. See you to-morrow. Come along, Daisy." + +Left to themselves, Susan, Marjorie, Irma and Jerry swung off toward +home, four abreast. + +"See here, Marjorie," began Jerry. "You want to look out for Mignon. I +told you how mad she looked when she passed us. Irma saw, too. She'll +try to do something to get you off the team and herself on. See if she +doesn't." + +"I'm not going to bother my head about her," Marjorie made careless +reply. "She has never really hurt anyone she's tried to hurt since I've +known her. With Ellen Seymour managing the teams, we are all sure of +fair play." + +"Don't be too sure," muttered Jerry. She added in a louder tone, +"Ellen's not much protection with Mignon on the job. If she can't play, +she'll try to fix it so somebody else can't. Not you, perhaps. Anyway, +it won't do any harm for you to keep your eyes open." + +"Don't croak, Jeremiah." Marjorie laid a playful hand on Jerry's lips. +"Didn't I tell you long ago that I should not allow Mignon La Salle to +trouble me this year? I am going to keep at a safe distance from her." + +"I hope you stick to that," was Jerry's ungracious retort. Under her +breath she added, "but I doubt it." + +Jerry Macy's well-meant warning was destined, however, to come back most +forcibly to Marjorie no later than the following morning. As she ran +down the steps of her home and on down the walk on her way to school, +she encountered the postman at the gate. He handed her two letters, +which she received with a gurgle of girlish delight. On the top envelope +she had glimpsed Mary's familiar script. The gurgle changed to a +dismayed gasp as she examined the other. Only too quickly had she +recognized the handwriting. Shoving Mary's letter into the pocket of her +pretty tan coat, she hastily opened the other envelope. Her evil genius +had again come to life. A wave of hot resentment swept her as she +unfolded the one sheet of heavy white paper and read: + + "Miss Dean: + + "No doubt you think yourself very clever to have made the junior + team. You could never have done so had partiality not been shown. + Others at the try-out were much more worthy of the choice. You + believe because you can dress like a doll and are popular with a few + rattle-brained girls that everyone likes you. But you are mistaken. + A few persons, at least, know how vain and silly and deceitful you + are. You pretend to hate snobbery, but you are a snob. Some day + _everyone_ will know you for what you really are. The time is not + far off. Beware. + + "The Observer." + +Turning, Marjorie went slowly back to the house and climbed the stairs +to her room. Pausing before her desk, she opened it. From a pigeon-hole +she extracted another letter. Carefully she compared it with the one +that had come by post. Yes, they must have both emanated from the same +source. Stationery, writing and signature were unmistakable proofs. With +a sigh she shoved them both into the pigeon-hole. Who could her +mysterious enemy be? These letters were certainly of the variety she had +heard classed as "poison pen." + +Thus far she had flouted the idea of Mignon La Salle as the writer of +them. Now she was forced to wonder if she had been wrong. Was it +possible that Mignon had lurked outside Miss Archer's office on the +morning when she had solved the problem for Rowena Farnham? If this were +so, the letter Miss Archer had received might then be accredited to her, +as well as the two now in her desk. Barring Rowena Farnham, Marjorie +knew no one else who would be likely to engage in such a despicable +enterprise. If Mignon were guilty of this, Jerry Macy's warning had not +been an idle one. It, therefore, behooved her, Marjorie Dean, to be on +her guard. Yet how could she guard herself against a shadow, an enemy +unseen; unknown; unguessed? + + + + +CHAPTER XIV--A SOLDIER IN EARNEST + + +Absorbed in a vain attempt to find a clue to the mysterious prophesier +of evil, Marjorie forgot Mary Raymond's letter until she happened to +thrust a hand into her coat pocket on the way home from school at noon. +Mary's long, cheery epistle partially atoned for the hateful sentiments +expressed by the unknown. On her return home in the afternoon, a second +comforter was accorded her in a letter from Constance Stevens. The day +after Marjorie and Jerry had spent the evening at Gray Gables Mr. +Stevens had gone to New York. Constance had accompanied him. + +Since the great change had taken place in the girl's life her school +days had been more or less broken. Still she managed to keep up in her +classes despite frequent short absences from school. It was tacitly +understood, not only by Miss Archer, but also by Constance's other +teachers, that she intended to study for a grand opera debut as soon as +her high school days were over. The mere possession of so remarkable a +voice as was hers rather set her apart in some indefinite fashion from +her schoolmates. Where others would have been taken to strict account +for absence, she was allowed an unusual amount of consideration. +Undoubtedly, the fact that when actually in school she invariably +acquitted herself with credit in her various studies had much to do with +the leniency accorded her. From a very humble person, she was rapidly +becoming a personage from whom Sanford expected one day to hear great +things. + +Marjorie Dean felt Constance's absences more keenly than anyone else. +She had been particularly lonesome for her friend during this latest +one, and the news that Constance would return to Sanford and to school +on the following week banished for the time the shadow of the morning's +unpleasant incident. + +"Constance will be home on Sunday, Captain," she caroled gleefully, as +she danced about the living room by way of expressing her jubilation. + +"I am glad to hear it. You really need the child to cheer you up. You've +been looking rather solemn lately, my dear. Aren't you happy in your +school? Sit down here and give an account of yourself," commanded Mrs. +Dean with a smile. + +"Oh, yes." The answer was accompanied by a faint sigh, as Marjorie +curled up on the floor beside her mother. "So far, this has been rather +a queer year, though. Nothing very pleasant has happened except basket +ball. That's always a joy. Our team is doing beautifully. We are to play +the sophomores on the Saturday before Thanksgiving. It's going to be a +real tussle. Ellen Seymour says there are some great players among the +sophs. You'll come to the game, Captain?" + +"I suppose I must. You consider me a loyal fan. That means I must live +up to my reputation. By the way, Lieutenant, did that girl who made you +so much trouble enter high school? You never told me." + +"You mean Rowena Farnham? Yes; she was allowed to try another set of +examinations. Jerry Macy said she won the chance by only one vote. +Jerry's father's a member of the Board. I wouldn't tell anyone else but +you, though, about that one vote. She is a sophomore now. I see her in +the study hall, but we never speak. The girls say she is quite popular +with the sophs. I suppose she's trying hard to make up her lost ground." +Marjorie's inflection was slightly bored. She felt that she had small +cause for interest in Rowena. She had never told her mother of the +latter's attack on herself and Jerry. She preferred not to think of it, +much less talk of it. To her it had seemed utterly senseless, as well as +cheap. + +"And how is Mignon La Salle doing?" questioned Mrs. Dean. "I haven't +heard you mention her, either. I must say I am very glad that you and +she are not likely to be thrown together again. Poor little Mary made a +bad mistake last year. It is wonderful that things ever worked out as +well as they did." Mrs. Dean's face grew stern as she recalled the +tangle in which Mary's obstinacy had involved her daughter. + +"Oh, Mignon has found a friend in Rowena Farnham. They go together all +the time. Jerry says they will soon fall out. I am sure they are welcome +to chum together, if they choose." Marjorie shrugged her shoulders as +though desirous of dismissing both girls from her thoughts. + +"Jerry is quite likely to be a true prophet," commented Mrs. Dean. "She +is a very wise girl, but decidedly slangy. I cannot understand why a +girl brought up in her surroundings should be so thoroughly addicted to +slang." + +"She's trying awfully hard not to use it." Recalling Jerry's recent +efforts to speak more elegant English, Marjorie laughed outright. "She's +so funny, Captain. If any other girl I know used slang as she does, I +wouldn't like it. But Jerry! Well, she's different. Next to Connie and +Mary I love her best of all my friends. I don't know what I'd do without +her." + +"She is a very fine girl, in spite of her brusque ways," praised Mrs. +Dean. "General is fond of her, too." She added this little tribute lest +Marjorie might feel that she had been unduly critical. She understood +the fact that Marjorie's friends were sacred to her and on that account +rarely found fault with them. Marjorie could be trusted to choose her +associates wisely. Those to whom her sympathies went out usually proved +themselves worthy of her regard. Motherly anxiety alone had prompted +Mrs. Dean to draw her daughter out with a view toward learning the cause +of Marjorie's recent air of wistful preoccupation. Daily it had become +more noticeable. If a repetition of last year's sorrows threatened her +only child, Mrs. Dean did not propose to be kept in the dark until it +became well-nigh impossible to adjust matters. + +Secretly Marjorie was aware of this anxiety on her mother's part. She +felt that she ought to show her Captain the sinister letters she had +received, yet she was loath to do so. Her mother's inquiry concerning +Mignon had caused her to reflect uneasily that now if ever was the +moment for unburdening her mind. "Captain," she began, "you know that +something is bothering me, don't you?" + +"Yes. I have been hoping you would tell me." Mrs. Dean laid an +encouraging hand on the drooping, brown head against her knee. + +"Wait a minute." Imbued with a desperate energy, Marjorie sprang to her +feet and ran from the room. She soon returned, the disturbing letters +clutched tightly in one hand. "I wish you to read these," she said. +Tendering them to her mother, she drew up a chair opposite Mrs. Dean and +sat down. + +Silence hung over the cheerful room while Mrs. Dean acquainted herself +with the cause of Marjorie's perturbation. Contempt filled her voice as +she finally said: "A most despicable bit of work, Lieutenant. The writer +had good reason to withhold her true name. So this explains the solemn +face you have been wearing of late. I wouldn't take it very deeply to +heart, my dear. Whoever wrote these letters must possess a most cowardly +nature." + +"That's just what I think," nodded Marjorie. "You see it really started +with the letter Miss Archer received. You know, the one about the +algebra problem. The only person I can really suspect of writing any of +them is Mignon. But she's not this sort of coward. Besides, I don't +believe she'd write just this kind of letter. What sort of person do you +think would, Captain?" + +Before answering, Mrs. Dean thoughtfully reread both letters. "It is +hard to say," she mused. "It looks to me as though the writer of them +might have been prompted by jealousy. The second one in particular is +full of jealous spite. I suppose you don't care to let Miss Archer see +them." + +"No." Marjorie shook a vehement head. "I'd rather worry through without +that. Perhaps there won't be any more of them. I hope not. Anyway, I'm +glad I told you about them. If another does come, I can bring it to you +and not feel so bad over it as if I had to think things out alone. Even +if I knew this very minute who wrote them, I don't know what I'd do +about it. It would depend upon who the girl was, whether or not I'd say +anything to her. It's all very mysterious and aggravating, isn't it?" +she added wistfully. + +"It's far worse than that." Mrs. Dean's lips set in a displeased line. +"Sanford High School appears to harbor some very peculiar girls. I can't +imagine any such thing happening to you at Franklin High. I don't like +it at all. If the rest of your junior year is going to be like this, you +might better go away to a good preparatory school." + +"Oh, Captain, don't say that!" Marjorie cried out in distress. "I +couldn't bear to leave you and General and Sanford High. I'd be terribly +unhappy away from home. Please say you didn't really mean that." Tears +lurked in her pleading tones. + +"Now, now, Lieutenant," came the soothing reply, "don't be so ready to +run out to meet calamity. I only suggested your going away as a means of +taking you out of these pits you seem always innocently to be tumbling +into. You know that General and I could hardly get along without our +girl. It is of your welfare I am thinking." + +Marjorie slipped to her mother's side and wound coaxing arms about her. +"I was afraid this would hurt you. That's why I hated to tell you. Don't +worry, Captain. Everything will come out all right. It always has, you +know. So long as I keep a clear conscience, nothing can really hurt me. +I hope I'm too good a soldier to be frightened, just because I've been +fired upon by an unseen enemy. If I ran away now I'd be a deserter, and +a deserter's a disgrace to an army. So you see there's only one thing to +do; stand by and stick fast to my colors. I've got to be a soldier in +earnest." + + + + +CHAPTER XV--AN UNWILLING FOLLOWER + + +Marjorie's confidential talk with her Captain brought to her a renewal +of faith in herself, which carried her along serenely through various +small difficulties which continually sprang up in her junior path. One +of them was Miss Merton, who seemed always on the watch for an +opportunity to belittle the girl she so detested. Still another was the +hostile interest Mignon La Salle had again begun to take in her. Hardly +a day passed without an angry recital on Jerry's part of something she +had heard against Marjorie, which had originally come from Mignon or +Rowena Farnham. Mignon's ally, Charlotte Horner, was an equal source for +provocation. Although she had no special right to do so, she often +dropped in on junior basket ball practice merely to find food for +adverse criticism of Marjorie. She watched the latter with a hawk-like +eye, only to go forth and make capital of any small imperfection in +Marjorie's playing, which she saw or fancied she saw. + +The fact that Rowena Farnham was a member of the sophomore team did not +add to Marjorie's happiness. She had no wish to come into such close +contact with her, which the approaching games between the two teams +would necessitate. From Jerry, the indefatigable news-gatherer, she had +learned that Rowena was a skilful, but rather rough player. Knowing her +to be utterly without scruple, Marjorie had small reason to believe she +could be trusted to play an absolutely fair game against her opponents. +Rowena was already becoming an insolent power in the sophomore class. +Her extreme audacity, coupled with her good looks and fine clothes, +brought her a certain amount of prestige in Sanford High School. She +possessed to a marked degree that impudent quality of daring, which is +so peculiarly fascinating to school girls. + +Although she was not sincerely liked she was admired and feared. She had +a fund of clever sayings at her command, which gave her a reputation for +brilliancy. The frequent reproof of her teachers rolled off her like +water from a duck's back. She made public sport of whomever she pleased, +whenever it pleased her to do so, with a conscienceless air of good +humor that rendered her a dangerous foe. She never hesitated to forge +her way to whatever she wanted, in a hail-fellow-well-met manner which +changed like a flash to insolence with the slightest opposition offered. +She was a bully of the first water, but with the glamor of her newness +still upon her, the worst side of her nature was yet to be revealed to +many. + +Marjorie Dean and Jerry Macy, at least, entertained no illusions +concerning her. Neither did Mignon La Salle. For once in her life, +Mignon was beginning to find herself completely overshadowed by a nature +far more hatefully mischievous than her own. True she was Rowena's most +intimate friend. Yet there were times when she inwardly regretted having +rushed blindly into such a friendship. Striving ever to rule, now she +was invariably overruled. Instead of being leader, she became follower. +Rowena criticized, satirized and domineered over her, all in the name of +friendship. Had she been anyone else, Mignon would not have borne long +with her bullying. She would have speedily put an end to their +association. Rowena, however, was one not thus easily to be dropped. In +Mignon she glimpsed powers for mischief-making only secondary to her +own. She preferred, therefore, to cling to her and was clever enough +never to allow Mignon's flashes of resentment against her +high-handedness to mature into open rebellion. Those who knew the French +girl for exactly what she was agreed that Mignon had at last met her +match. They also agreed that a taste of her own medicine would no doubt +do her a great deal of good. + +The approach of Thanksgiving also brought with it a stir of excitement +for the coming basket ball game, the first to be played in a series of +four, which were scheduled to take place at intervals in the school +year. The sophomore team had already played the freshman and given them +a complete white-washing. Now they were clamoring to meet the juniors +and repeat their victory. The junior team had attended the +freshman-sophomore game in a body, thereby realizing to the full the +strength of their opponents. Reluctantly, they were forced to admit the +brilliancy of Rowena Farnham as a player. She knew the game and she went +into it with a dash and vigor that marked her as a powerful adversary. +Naturally, it won her an admiration which she determined should grow and +deepen with each fresh achievement. + +Her doughty deeds on the floor of contest merely imbued the junior team +with stronger resolution to win the coming game. They practised with +stubborn energy, sedulously striving to overcome whatever they knew to +be their weak points. Though manager of all the teams, Ellen Seymour's +heart was secretly with them. This they felt rather than knew. +Outwardly, Ellen was impartial. She made them no show of favoritism, but +they divined that she would rejoice to see them win. There was no doubt +of the smoothness of their team work. Having played basket ball on the +freshman and sophomore teams, Marjorie Dean herself knew that the squad +of which she was now a member excelled any other of past experience. +Fairly confident that it could hold its own, she looked impatiently +forward to the hour of action. + +To set one's heart too steadfastly on a particular thing, seems +sometimes to court disappointment. On the Thursday before the game an +unexpected state of affairs came to pass. It started with a notice on +the bulletin board requesting the presence of the junior team in the +gymnasium at four o'clock that afternoon. It was signed "Ellen Seymour, +Manager." Naturally, the juniors thought little of it. They were +accustomed to such notices. Ellen, no doubt, had some special +communication to make that had to do with them. But when five minutes +after four saw them gathered in the gymnasium to meet their manager, her +sober face warned them that the unusual was afoot. + +"Girls, I have something to ask of you which you may not wish to do. I +am not going to urge you to do it. You are free to choose your own +course. As it especially concerns you, yours is the right to decide. Two +girls of the sophomore team are ill. Martha Tyrell has come down with +tonsilitis, and Nellie Simmons is threatened with pneumonia. Both are in +bed. They can't possibly play on Saturday. The sophs are awfully cut up +about it. They wouldn't mind using one sub, but two, they say, is one +too many. They have asked me to ask you if you are willing to postpone +the game until these girls are well again." + +"I don't see why we should," objected Captain Muriel Harding. "I don't +believe they'd do the same for us. Of what use are subs, if not to +replace absent players?" + +"That's what I think," put in Daisy Griggs. "It's too provoking. +Everyone is looking forward to the game. If we don't play we'll +disappoint a whole lot of people. It's very nervy in the sophs to ask us +to do such a thing. Besides, we are crazy to wear our new suits." + +Ellen smiled quizzically. "Remember, you are to do as you please about +it," was all she said, betraying neither pleasure or displeasure at the +ready protests. + +"I suppose the sophomores will think us awfully mean if we don't do as +they ask," ventured Rita Talbot. + +"Oh, let them think," declared Susan Atwell impatiently. "It's the first +time I ever heard of such a thing. They must be terribly afraid we'll +beat them." + +"That's just the point." At this juncture Marjorie broke into the +discussion. "If we insist on playing and win, they might say we won +because we had them at a disadvantage. That wouldn't be much of a +victory, would it?" + +"That's so." Muriel reluctantly admitted the force of Marjorie's +argument. "I know at least one of them who would say just that." + +"Mustn't be personal," gently chided Ellen. Nevertheless, there was a +twinkle in her blue eyes. The sophomore who had come to her had +insinuated what Marjorie had voiced. "I'll give you ten minutes to talk +it over. I promised to let the sophomores know to-night. The girl who +came to me is waiting in the senior locker room for your answer." + +"I'm ready to decide now," asserted Marjorie. "For my part I'm willing +to postpone the game." + +"We might as well," conceded Captain Muriel ruefully. Marjorie's point +had gone home. "If we win we want it to be a sweeping victory." + +One by one the three other interested parties agreed that it seemed best +to yield gracefully to the plea. + +"Now that you've all spoken I'm going to tell you my opinion," announced +Ellen. "I am glad that you are willing to do this. It becomes you as +juniors. No one can say that you have been anything but strictly +generous. You deserve a crown of victory for being so nice about this." + +Ellen's conclusion brought a smile to five faces. Her remark might be +construed as a declaration of favor toward them. + +"I believe you'd love to see us win the whole four games, Ellen +Seymour," was Muriel's frank comment. + +"As your august manager, my lips are sealed," Ellen retorted laughingly. +"Now I must leave you and put an anxious sophomore out of her misery. +While you are waiting for the sick to get well you can put in some more +practice." With this injunction she left them. + +Once out of the gymnasium, her smile vanished. The anxious sophomore was +Rowena Farnham. Ellen cherished small liking for this arrogant, +self-centered young person whose request had been more in the nature of +a command. Personally, she had not favored putting off the game. Had +illness befallen a member or members of any team on which she had +formerly played, no such favor would have been asked. Nothing short of +incapacitation of the whole squad would have brought forth a stay in +activities. Yet as manager she was obliged to be strictly impersonal. +True, she might have exercised her authority and herself made the +decision. But she had deemed the other way wisest. + +On entering the senior locker room she was still more annoyed to find +Mignon La Salle with Rowena. If Ellen disliked the latter, she had less +love for the tricky French girl. "Birds of a feather," she mentally +styled them as she coldly bowed to Mignon. Her chilly recognition was +not returned. Mignon had not forgiven her for the try-out. + +"Well, what's the verdict?" inquired Rowena, satirically pleasant. Her +manner toward dignified Ellen verged on insolence. + +"The junior team are willing to postpone the game," informed Ellen +briefly. She intended the interview to be a short one. + +"They know on which side their bread is buttered," laughed the other +girl. "I suppose they weren't specially delighted. Did they make much +fuss before they gave in?" + +"As I have delivered my message, I will say 'good afternoon,'" Ellen +returned stiffly. + +"Don't be in too much of a hurry," drawled Rowena. "When I ask a +question, I expect an answer." + +"Good afternoon." Ellen wheeled and walked calmly from the locker room. +Rowena's expectations were a matter of indifference to the disgusted +manager. She, at least, was not to be bullied. + +Mignon La Salle laughed unpleasantly. "You were foolish to waste your +breath on her." She wagged her black head in the direction of the door, +which had just closed behind Ellen. "You didn't impress her _that_ +much." She snapped her fingers significantly. + +Smarting under the dignified snubbing Ellen had administered, Rowena +hailed Mignon as an escape valve. "You keep your remarks to yourself," +she blustered. "How dare you stand there laughing and snapping your +fingers? No wonder people say you're two-faced and tricky. You're so +deceitful you don't know your own mind. One minute you come whining to +me about this Seymour snip, the next you take sides with her." + +"I wasn't standing up for her and you know it," muttered Mignon. As +always, Rowena's brutally expressed opinion of herself had a vastly +chastening effect on the designing French girl. Rowena never minced +matters. She delivered her remarks straight from the shoulder, +indifferent to whether they pleased or displeased. Mignon's disregard +for sincerity and honor suited her admirably. She was equally devoid of +these virtues. Mignon made an excellent confederate. Still, she had to +be kept in her place. Her very love of subtle intrigue made plain +speaking abhorrent to her. On occasions when Rowena mercilessly held +before her the mirror of truth, she invariably retired in confusion. At +the same time she entertained a wholesome respect for the one who thus +dared to do it. This explained to a great extent the strong influence +which Rowena exerted over her. She was not happy in this new friendship. +More than once she had meditated ending it. Fear of the other's furious +retaliation was a signal preventative. Rowena, as a friend, was greatly +to be preferred to Rowena as an enemy. + +As she sulkily viewed the Titian-haired tyrant, who knew her too well +for her own peace of mind, she wondered why she had not flung back taunt +for taunt. Perhaps Rowena made a shrewd guess regarding her thoughts. +Adopting a milder tone she said brusquely: "Oh, quit pouting and come +along. None of these stupid girls are worth quarreling over. I suppose +that Marjorie Dean, the big baby, told Miss Seymour something hateful +about me. That's the reason she acted so frosty." + +At the mere mention of Marjorie's name Mignon's elfish face grew dark. +She and Rowena had at least one bond in common, they both despised +Marjorie Dean. Mignon reflected that no scheme she had devised for +humbling the former had ever borne lasting fruit. Rowena might succeed +where she had failed. Rowena had sworn reprisal for the affair of the +algebra problem. Undoubtedly, she would seize upon the first opportunity +for retaliation. With such a glorious prospect ahead of her, Mignon +craftily decided to stick to Rowena and share in her triumph. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI--A TINY CLUE + + +The end of the week following Thanksgiving brought the two temporarily +disabled sophomore basket ball players back to school. The day after +their return a notice appeared on the bulletin board stating that the +junior-sophomore game would be played on the next Saturday afternoon. +From all sides it received profound approbation and the recent +postponement of the contest served to give it greater importance. The +sophomore team had been highly delighted with the respite, and +gratefully accorded the credit to Rowena Farnham, who reveled in her +sudden advance in popularity. + +The juniors had little to say to the world at large. Among themselves +they said a great deal. One and all they agreed that the victory of the +coming game must be theirs. They yearned to show the public that in +postponing the game they had merely postponed the glory of winning it. +Though they knew the strength of the opposing team, they confidently +believed themselves to be even stronger. How it happened, none of them +were quite able to explain, but when the fateful hour of conflict +arrived the victor's crown was wrested from them. A score of 18-16 in +favor of the sophomores sent them off the field of defeat, crestfallen +but remarkably good-natured, considering the circumstances. + +Behind the closed door of their dressing-room, with the jubilant shouts +of the sophomores still ringing in their ears, they proceeded to take +stock of themselves and their triumphant opponents. + +"There is no use in talking, that Rowena Farnham is a wonderful player," +was Muriel Harding's rueful admission. "She could almost have won the +game playing alone against us." + +"She's a very rough player," cried Daisy Griggs. "She tears about the +floor like a wild Indian. She gave me two or three awful bumps." + +"Still, you can't say she did anything that one could make a fuss +about," said Rita Talbot slowly. "I guess she's too clever for that." + +"That's just it," chimed in Susan Atwell crossly. "She's as sharp as a +needle. She goes just far enough to get what she wants without getting +into trouble by it. Anyway, they didn't win much of a victory. If that +last throw of Marjorie's hadn't missed the basket we'd have tied the +score. It's a pity the game ended right there. Three or four minutes +more were all we needed." + +"I was sure I'd make it," declared Marjorie rather mournfully, "but a +little before, in that big rush, I was shoved forward by someone and +nearly fell. I made a slide but didn't quite touch the floor. All my +weight was on my right arm and I felt it afterward when I threw the +ball." + +"Who shoved you forward? That's what I'd like to know," came +suspiciously from Susan. "If----" + +"Oh, it wasn't anyone's fault," Marjorie hastened to assure her. "It was +just one of those provoking things that have to happen." + +"Listen to those shrieks of joy," grumbled Muriel, as a fresh clamor +began out in the gymnasium. "Oh, why didn't we beat them?" + +"Never mind," consoled Marjorie. "There'd be just as much noise if we +had won. You can't blame them. Next time it will be our turn. We've +still three more chances. Now that we've played the sophs once, we'll +know better what to do when we play them again. We really ought to go +out there and congratulate them. Then they would know that we weren't +jealous of them." + +"I'd just as soon congratulate a big, striped tiger as that Rowena +Farnham. She makes me think of one. She has that cruel, tigerish way +about her. Ugh! I can't endure that girl." Muriel Harding made a gesture +of abhorrence. + +"Come in," called Marjorie as four loud knocks beat upon the door. "It's +Jerry, Connie and Irma," she explained, as the door opened to admit the +trio. + +"Better luck next time," cheerfully saluted Jerry Macy. "You girls +played a bang-up, I mean, a splendid game. I was sure you'd tie that +score. You had a slight accident, didn't you, Marjorie?" + +"Yes. Did you notice it?" Marjorie glanced curiously at Jerry's +imperturbable face. + +"I always notice everything," retorted Jerry. "I hope----" + +Marjorie flashed her a warning look. "It wasn't anything that could be +avoided," she answered with a finality that Jerry understood, if no one +else did. "I move that we go down to Sargent's and celebrate our +defeat," she quickly added. "Have a seat, girls. It won't take us long +to get into our everyday clothes." + +"Such a shame," bewailed Daisy Griggs. "After we've gone to the trouble +of having these stunning suits made, then we have to be robbed of a +chance to parade around the gym as winners. Anyway, they're a whole lot +prettier than the sophs' suits. I didn't like that dark green and blue +they had as well as ours." + +"They stuck to the sophomore colors, though," reminded Rita. "It's a +wonder that Rowena Farnham didn't appear in some wonderful creation that +had nothing to do with class colors. It would be just like her." + +Despite their regret over losing the game, the defeated team, +accompanied by Jerry, Constance, Irma and Harriet Delaney, who +afterwards dropped in upon them, set off for the all-consoling Sargent's +in fairly good humor, there to spend not only a talkative session, but +their pocket money as well. + +It was not until Jerry, Constance and Marjorie had reluctantly torn +themselves from their friends to stroll homeward through the crisp +December air that Jerry unburdened herself with gusto. + +"Marjorie Dean," she began impetuously, "do you or don't you know why +you nearly fell down in that rush?" + +"I know, of course," nodded Marjorie. "Someone swept me forward and I +almost lost my balance. It's happened to me before. What is it that you +are trying to tell me, Jerry?" + +"That someone was Row-ena," stated Jerry briefly. "Isn't that so, +Connie?" + +"It looked that way," Connie admitted. "I thought she played very +roughly all through the game." + +"If it were she, I don't believe she did it purposely," responded +Marjorie. "Even if she did, I'm not going to worry about it. I rather +expected she might. Mignon used to do that sort of thing. You remember +what a time we had about it last year. But her team and ours were +concerned in it. That's why I took it up. As it was only I to whom it +happened this time, I shall say nothing. I don't wish to start trouble +over basket ball this year. If I spoke of it to Ellen she would take it +up. You know what Rowena Farnham would say. She'd declare it was simply +a case of spite on my part. That I was using it only as an excuse for +not being able to throw that last ball to basket. Then she'd go around +and tell others that we were whining because we were beaten in a fair +fight. I might better say nothing at all. The only thing for us to do is +to keep our own counsel and win the next game." + +"I guess your head is level," was Jerry's gloomy admission. She was as +much distressed over their defeat as were the juniors themselves. + +"Marjorie's head is _always_ level," smiled Constance Stevens. "I am +almost certain that you girls will win the next game. Luck just happened +to be with the sophomores to-day. I don't think they work together as +well as you. Miss Farnham is a much better player than the others. +Still, I imagine that she might not always do so well as she did in this +game. If she saw that things were going against her, she would be quite +likely to get furiously angry and lose her head." Quiet Constance had +been making a close study of Rowena during the game. Raised in the hard +school of experience, she had considerable insight into character. She +seldom criticized openly, but when she did, her opinions were received +with respect. + +"Your head's on the same level plane with Marjorie's, Connie," agreed +Jerry. "I think, too, that Rowena Farnham would be apt to make blunders +if she got good and mad. Speaking of getting mad reminds me that Lucy +Warner is pouting about those suits of ours. She told Harriet to-day +that she thought they were simply hideous. Harriet said that she +wouldn't go in with you girls when you ordered them. She considered them +a waste of money. Said if she had one, she'd never get a chance to wear +it. Pleasant young person, isn't she?" + +"Perhaps she couldn't afford to have one," remarked Constance +thoughtfully. "You know her mother is a widow and supports the two of +them by doing plain sewing. I imagine they must be quite poor. They live +in a tiny house on Radcliffe Street, and Lucy never goes to even the +high school parties, or to Sargent's, or any place that costs money. She +is a queer little thing. I've tried ever so many times to be nice to +her, but she always snubs me. Maybe she thinks I'm trying to patronize +her. I can't help feeling sorry for her. You see I know so well what it +means to be very poor--and proud," ended Constance, flushing. + +"She's a born grouch," asserted Jerry. "She's been one ever since I've +known her. Even in grammar school she was like that. She's always had a +fixed idea that because she's poor everyone looks down on her. It's too +bad. She's very bright in her studies, and she'd be quite pretty if she +didn't go around all the time looking ready to bite." + +"Isn't it funny?" mused Marjorie. "I've never noticed her particularly +or thought much about her until she made the team as a sub. Since then +I've tried several times to talk to her. Each time she has acted as +though she didn't like to have me speak to her. I thought maybe she +might be a friend of Mignon's. But I suppose it's just because she feels +so ashamed of being poor. As if that mattered. We ought to try to make +her think differently. She must be terribly unhappy." + +"I doubt it," contradicted Jerry. "Some people enjoy being miserable. +Probably she's one of that sort. As I said before, 'it's too bad.' +Still, one doesn't care to get down on one's knees to somebody, just +because that somebody hates herself. She can't expect people are going +to like her if she keeps them a mile away from her." + +"You are both right," commented Constance. "She ought to be made to +understand that being poor isn't a crime. But you can't force that into +her head. The only way to do is to wait until a chance comes to prove it +to her. We must watch for the psychological moment." Her droll utterance +of the last words set her listeners to giggling. Miss Merton was prone +to dwell upon that same marvelous psychological moment. + +That evening, as Marjorie diligently studied her lessons, the queer, +green-eyed little junior again invaded her thoughts. A vision rose of +her thin, white face with its pointed chin, sensitive, close-lipped +mouth, and wide eyes of bluish-green that frequently changed to a +decided green. What a curious, secretive face she had. Marjorie wondered +how she had happened to pass by so lightly such a baffling personality. +She charitably determined to make up for it by learning to know the true +Lucy Warner. She upbraided herself severely for having been so selfish. +Absorbed in her own friends, she had neglected to think of how much +there was to be done to make the outsiders happy. + +Entering the study hall on Monday morning she cast a swift glance toward +Lucy's desk. She was rather surprised to note that the blue-green eyes +had come to rest on her at the same instant. Marjorie smiled and nodded +pleasantly. The other girl only continued to stare fixedly at her, but +made no answering sign. Forewarned, Marjorie was not specially concerned +over this plain snub. She merely smiled to herself and decided that the +psychological moment had evidently not yet arrived. + +Slipping into her seat she was about to slide her books into place on +the shelf under her desk, when one hand came into contact with something +that made her color rise. She drew a sharp breath as she brought it to +light. So the Observer was at work again! With a sudden, swift movement +of her arm she shoved her find back to cover. Casting a startled look +about the study hall, she wondered if whoever had placed it there were +now watching her. Strangely enough, the only pair of eyes she caught +fastened upon her belonged to Mignon La Salle. In them was a light of +brooding scorn, which plainly expressed her opinion of Marjorie. + +"Could Mignon be the mysterious Observer?" was again the question that +assailed Marjorie's mind. She longed to read the letter, but her pride +whispered, "not now." She would save it until school was over for the +day. She and Captain would read it together in the living room. + +It was a long, weary day for the impatient little girl. At noon she +carried the dread missive home with her, gravely intrusting it to her +Captain's keeping. "It's another stab from the Observer," she explained +soberly. "I haven't opened it. We will read it together when I come home +this afternoon. I don't care to read it now." + +She returned home that afternoon to find her mother entertaining +callers. Despite her feverish impatience to have the thing over, she was +her usual charming self to her mother's friends. Nevertheless, she +sighed with relief when she saw them depart. Seating herself on the +davenport she leaned wearily against its cushioned back. The suspense of +not knowing had told severely upon her. + +"Now, Lieutenant, I think we are ready," said Mrs. Dean cheerily. Taking +the letter from a drawer of the library table, she sat down beside +Marjorie and tore open the envelope. Her head against her Captain's +shoulder, Marjorie's eyes followed the Observer's latest triumph in +letter writing: + + "Miss Dean: + + "Last Saturday showed very plainly that you could not play basket + ball. I knew this long ago. Several others must now know it. It + would serve you right if you were asked to resign from the team. If + you had been thinking less about yourself and more about the game, + you might have tied the score and not disgraced the juniors. You are + a menace to the team and ought to be removed from it. As I am not + alone in this opinion, I imagine and sincerely hope that you will + soon receive your dismissal. If you had any honor in you, you would + resign without waiting to be asked. But remember that a coward is + soon worsted in the fight. Prepare to meet the inevitable. + + "The Observer." + +Without speaking, Marjorie turned again to the first page of the letter, +re-reading thoughtfully the entire communication. "This letter tells me +something which the others didn't," she said. + +"It tells me that it is high time to stop such nonsense." Mrs. Dean's +tones conveyed righteous indignation. "The whole thing is simply +outrageous." + +"It can't be stopped until we know who is writing these letters," +reminded Marjorie. "But I think I have a tiny clue. That sentence about +disgracing the juniors would make it seem that a junior wrote them. No +one would mention it who wasn't a junior. I've tried not to believe it, +but now I am almost certain that Mignon wrote them. She would like more +than anyone else to see me lose my place on the team. Yes, Mignon and +the Observer must be very closely related." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII--IN TIME OF NEED + + +Three days later Marjorie's theory seemed destined to prove itself +correct. Ellen Seymour came to her, wrath in her eye. "See here, +Marjorie," she burst forth impulsively, "if Miss Davis sends for you to +meet her in the gym after school, let me know. I'm going there with you. +Yesterday while you girls were at practice she stood there watching you. +Do you remember?" + +"Yes. I noticed her. She stared at me so hard she made me nervous and I +played badly. She has always had that effect on me. Last year when she +managed the team she was fond of watching me. She used to criticize my +playing, too, and call out one thing to me just when I knew I ought to +do another. She was awfully fussy. I hope she isn't going to begin it +again this year. I thought she had left everything to you." + +"So did I," retorted Ellen grimly. "It seems she hasn't. Someone, you +can guess who, went to her after the game and said something about your +playing. She came to me and said: 'I understand there is a great deal of +dissatisfaction on the part of the juniors over Miss Dean's being on the +junior team.' You can imagine what I said. When I saw her in the gym +after school I knew she had an object. But leave things to me. I know a +way to stop her objections very quickly. If she sends for you, go +straight to the junior locker room from the study hall and wait there +for me. If she doesn't send for you, then you'll know everything is all +right. Remember now, don't set foot out of that locker room until I come +for you." With this parting injunction Ellen hurried off, leaving +Marjorie a victim to many emotions. + +So the Observer's, or rather Mignon's, prophesy bordered on fulfillment. +Mignon and the few juniors who still adhered to the La Salle standard +had made complaint against her to Miss Davis in the name of the junior +class. As a friend of Miss Merton, Miss Davis had always favored the +French girl. Last year it had been whispered about that her motive in +creating a second sophomore team had arisen from her wish to help +Mignon's fortunes along. No doubt she had been very glad to listen to +this latest appeal on Mignon's part. + +But Marjorie was only partially correct in her conclusions. Though it +was, indeed, true that Mignon had besieged Miss Davis with a plea that +Marjorie be removed from the team, no other member of the junior class +had accompanied her. She was flanked by the far more powerful allies, +Charlotte Horner and Rowena Farnham. The plan of attack had originated +in Rowena's fertile brain as the result of a bitter outburst against +Marjorie on Mignon's part. It was directly after the game that she had +stormed out her grievances to Rowena and Charlotte. Personally, Rowena +cared little about Mignon's woes. Her mischief-making faculties were +aroused merely on Marjorie's account. Had it been Susan, or Muriel +against whom Mignon raved she would have laughed and dubbed her friend, +"a big baby." But Marjorie--there was a chance to even her score. + +"You just let me manage this," Rowena had declared boastfully. "This +Miss Davis is easy. She's a snob. So is Miss Merton. If they weren't +they'd have put you in your place long ago. They can see through you. +It's money that counts with both of them. I've made it a point right +along to be nice to Miss Davis. In case that frosty Miss Seymour tried +to make trouble for me, I knew I needed a substantial backing. Now I'll +ask her to my house to dinner to-morrow night. If she can't come, so +much the better for me. If she can, so much the better for you. Of +course you'll be there, too. Then we'll see what we can do. You ought to +be very grateful to me. I expect she'll bore me to death. I'm only doing +it for your sake." + +Rowena was too crafty not to hang the heavy mantle of obligation on +Mignon's shoulders. Thus indebted to her, Mignon would one day be +reminded of the debt. As a last perfect touch to her scheme she had +shrewdly included Charlotte Horner in the invitation. Providentially for +Mignon, Miss Davis had no previous engagement. So it fell about that +Rowena became hostess to three guests. At home a young despot, who +bullied her timid little mother and coaxed her indulgent father into +doing her will, she merely announced her intention to entertain at +dinner and let that end it. The final results of that highly successful +dinner party were yet to be announced. + +Unwittingly, however, Miss Davis had blundered. In order to strengthen +her case she had purposely complained of Marjorie to Ellen Seymour. +Knowing nothing of Ellen's devotion to the pretty junior, she had not +dreamed that Ellen would set the wheels in motion to defeat her. She was +in reality more to be pitied than blamed. Of a nature which accepted +hearsay evidence, declining to go below the surface, it is not to be +wondered at that Rowena's clever persuasion, backed by Mignon's and +Charlotte's able support, caused her to spring to the French girl's aid. +She was one of those aggravating persons who refuse to see whatever they +do not wish to see. She was undoubtedly proficient in the business of +physical culture. She was extremely inefficient in the art of reading +girls. Sufficient unto herself, she, therefore, felt no compunction in +sending forth the word that should summon Marjorie to the gymnasium, +there to be deprived of that which she had rightfully earned. + +Like many other days that had come to poor Marjorie since the beginning +of her junior year, suspense became the ruling power. Two things she +knew definitely. Ellen Seymour was for her. Miss Davis against her. The +rest she could only guess at, losing herself in a maze of troubled +conjecture. Judge her surprise when on reaching the locker room, she +found not only Ellen awaiting her, but her teammates as well. They had +made a most precipitate flight from the study hall in order to be in the +locker room when she arrived. + +"Why, Ellen! Why, girls!" she stammered. A deeper pink rushed to her +cheeks; a mist gathered in her eyes as she realized the meaning of their +presence. They had come in a body to help her. + +"We're here because we're here," trilled Captain Muriel Harding. "In a +few minutes we'll be in the gym. Then someone else will get a surprise. +Are we ready to march? I rather think we are. Lead the procession, +Ellen." + +"Come on, Marjorie, you and I will walk together. Fall in, girls. The +invincible sextette will now take the trail." + +Amid much laughter on their part and openly curious glances from +constantly arriving juniors who wondered what was on foot, the six girls +had swung off down the corridor before the curious ones found +opportunity to relieve their curiosity. + +"She's not here yet," commented Susan, as they entered the place of +tryst. "Isn't that too bad. I hoped she'd be on hand to see the mighty +host advancing." + +"Here she comes," warned Rita Talbot. "Now, for it." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII--DOING BATTLE FOR MARJORIE + + +Two spots of angry color appeared high up on Miss Davis's lean face as +she viewed the waiting six. It came to her that she was in for a lively +scene. Setting her mouth firmly, she approached them. Addressing herself +to Marjorie, she opened with: "I sent for _you_, Miss Dean; not your +friends." + +"I asked these girls to come here." Ellen Seymour turned an unflinching +gaze upon the nettled instructor. + +"Then you may invite them into one of the dressing rooms for a time. My +business with Miss Dean is strictly personal." + +"I am quite willing that my friends should hear whatever you have to say +to me." Marjorie's brown head lifted itself a trifle higher. + +"But _I_ am not willing that they should listen," snapped Miss Davis. + +"Then I must refuse to listen, also," flashed the quick, but even +response. + +"This is sheer impudence!" exclaimed Miss Davis. "I sent for you and I +insist that you must stay until I give you permission to go. As for +these girls----" + +"These girls will remain here until Marjorie goes," put in Ellen, +admirably self-controlled. "Everyone of them knows already why you wish +to see Marjorie Dean. She knows, too. We have come to defend her. I, for +one, say that she _shall not_ be dismissed from the team. Her teammates +say the same. It is unfair." + +"Have I said that she was to be dismissed from the team?" demanded Miss +Davis, too much irritated to assert her position as teacher. Ellen's +blunt accusation had robbed her of her usual show of dignity. + +"Can you say that such was not your intention?" cross-questioned Ellen +mercilessly. + +Miss Davis could not. She looked the picture of angry guilt. "I shall +not answer such an impertinent question," she fumed. "You are all +dismissed." Privately, she determined to send for Marjorie the next day +during school hours. + +"Very well." Ellen bowed her acceptance of the dismissal. "Shall we +consider the matter settled?" + +"Certainly not." The words leaped sharply to the woman's lips. Realizing +she had blundered, she hastily amended. "There is no matter under +consideration between you and me." + +"Whatever concerns Marjorie's basket ball interests, concerns me. If you +send for her again she will not come to you unless we come with her. Am +I not right?" She appealed for information to the subject of the +discussion. + +"You are," was the steady reply. + +"This is simply outrageous." Miss Davis completely lost composure. "Do +you realize all of you that you are absolutely defying your teacher? +Miss Dean deserves to be disciplined. After such a display of +discourtesy I refuse to allow her the privilege of playing on the junior +basket ball team." Miss Davis continued to express herself, unmindful of +the fact that Muriel Harding had slipped away from the group and out of +the nearest door. Her temper aroused she held forth at length, ending +with: "This disgraceful exhibition of favoritism on your part, Miss +Seymour, shows very plainly that you are not fitted to manage basket +ball in this school. I shall replace you as manager to-morrow. You, Miss +Dean, are dismissed from the junior team. I shall report every one of +you to Miss Archer as soon as I leave the gymnasium." + +"I believe she is on her way here now," remarked Ellen with satirical +impersonality. "Muriel went to find her and ask her to come." + +"What!" Miss Davis betrayed small pleasure at this news. Quickly +recovering herself she ordered: "You may go at once." + +"Here she is." Ellen nodded toward a doorway through which the principal +had just entered, Muriel only a step behind her. The senior manager's +eyes twinkled satisfaction. + +"What seems to be the trouble here, Miss Davis?" The principal came +pithily to the point. + +"I have been insulted by these disrespectful girls." Miss Davis waved a +hand toward the defending sextette. + +"That is news I do not relish hearing about my girls. I wish every +teacher in this school to be treated with respect. Kindly tell me what +reason they gave for doing so." + +"I sent for Miss Dean on a personal matter. She insisted on bringing +these girls with her. I requested them to leave me alone with Miss Dean. +They refused to do so. I dismissed them all, intending to put off my +interview with Miss Dean until to-morrow. Miss Seymour took it upon +herself to tell me that Miss Dean would not come to me to-morrow unless +accompanied by herself and these girls. Miss Dean declared the same +thing. Such conduct is unendurable." + +"These young women must have strong reason for such peculiar conduct, or +else they have overstepped all bounds," decided Miss Archer impassively. +"What have you to say for yourself, Ellen? As a member of the senior +class I shall expect a concise explanation." + +"We have a very strong reason for our misbehavior." Ellen put a +questioning inflection on the last word. "Briefly explained, it is this. +Miss Davis has been influenced by certain persons to dismiss Marjorie +Dean from the junior basket ball team. Because the juniors lost the game +the other day by two points, the blame for it has been unjustly placed +upon Marjorie. At practice yesterday she did not play as well as usual. +These are, apparently, the very shaky causes for her dismissal. I shall +not attempt to tell you the true reasons. They are unworthy of mention. +As her manager I refused to countenance such unfairness. So did her +teammates. They will agree with me when I say that Marjorie is one of +the best players we have ever had at Sanford High. We are all in +position to say so. We know her work. So we came with her to defend her. +I admit that we took a rather stiff stand with Miss Davis. There was no +other way." + +"What are your reasons for dismissing Miss Dean from the team?" Still +impassive of feature, the principal now addressed Miss Davis. + +"I have received complaints regarding her work," came the defiant +answer. + +"According to Ellen these complaints did not proceed from either herself +or her teammates. If not from them, whom could it interest to make +complaint?" continued the inexorable questioner. + +"The members of the junior class are naturally interested in the team +representing them," reminded Miss Davis tartly. + +"How many members of the junior class objected to Miss Dean as a +player?" relentlessly pursued Miss Archer. + +Miss Davis grew confused. "I--they--I decline to talk this matter over +with you in the presence of these insolent girls," she hotly rallied. + +"A word, girls, and you may go. I am greatly displeased over this +affair. Since basket ball seems to be such a trouble-breeder, it might +better be abolished in this school. I may decide to take that step. +Desperate diseases require desperate remedies. You will hear more of +this later. That will be all at present." + +With the feeling that the gymnasium roof was about to descend upon them, +the six girls quitted the battlefield. + +"Don't you ever believe Miss Archer will stop basket ball," emphasized +Muriel Harding when they were well down the corridor. "She knows every +single thing about it. I told her in the office. I told her, too, that I +knew Rowena Farnham and Charlotte Horner were mixed up in it. They've +had their heads together ever since the game." + +"I would have resigned in a minute, but I just couldn't after the way +you girls fought for me," Marjorie voiced her distress. "If Miss Archer +stops basket ball it will be my fault. I'm sorry I ever made the team." + +"You couldn't help yourself." Ellen Seymour was rapidly regaining her +cheerfulness. "Don't think for a minute that Miss Davis will be able to +smooth things over. Miss Archer is too clever not to recognize +unfairness when she meets it face to face. And don't worry about her +stopping basket ball. Take my word for it. She won't." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX--WHAT JERRY MACY "DUG UP" + + +As Ellen Seymour had predicted, basket ball did not receive its quietus. +But no one ever knew what passed between Miss Archer and Miss Davis. The +principal also held a long session with Ellen, who emerged from her +office with a pleased smile. To Marjorie and her faithful support Ellen +said confidentially: "It's all settled. No one will ever try to shove +Marjorie off the team while Miss Archer is here. But basket ball is +doomed, if anything else like that ever comes up. Miss Archer says so." +Strangely enough the six girls were not required to apologize to Miss +Davis. Possibly Miss Archer was not anxious to reopen the subject by +thus courting fresh rebellion. After all, basket ball was not down on +the high school curriculum. She was quite willing her girls should be at +liberty to manage it as they chose, provided they managed it wisely and +without friction. Privately, she was disgusted with Miss Davis's part in +the recent disagreement. She strongly advised the former to give up all +claim to the management of the teams. But this advice Miss Davis refused +to take. She still insisted on keeping up a modified show of authority, +but resolved within herself to be more careful. She had learned +considerable about girls. + +The three plotters accepted their defeat with bad grace. Afraid that the +tale would come to light, Mignon and Charlotte privately shoved the +blame on Rowena's shoulders. Nothing leaked out, however, and they were +too wise to censure Rowena to her face. Mignon soon discovered that the +obliging sophomore's efforts in her behalf had cost her dear. Rowena +tyrannized over her more than ever. After the second game between the +junior and sophomore teams, which occurred two weeks after Marjorie's +narrow escape from dismissal from the team, Mignon came into the belief +that her lot was, indeed, hard. The sophomores had been ingloriously +beaten, the score standing 22-12 in favor of the juniors. In consequence +Rowena was furious, forcing Mignon to listen to her long tirades against +the juniors, and rating her unmercifully when she failed to register +proper sympathy. + +Owing to the nearness of the Christmas holidays and the brief stretch +that lay between them and the mid-year examinations, the other two games +were put off until February and March, respectively. No one except +Rowena was sorry. She longed for a speedy opportunity to wipe the defeat +off her slate. She had little of the love of holiday giving in her +heart, and was heard loudly to declare that Christmas was a nuisance. + +Marjorie and her little coterie of intimates regarded it very +differently. They found the days before Yule-tide altogether too short +in which to carry out their Christmas plans. With the nearness of the +blessed anniversary of the world's King, Marjorie grew daily happier. +Since the straightening of the basket ball tangle, for her, things in +school had progressed with surprising smoothness. Then, too, the hateful +Observer had evidently forgotten her. Since the letter advising her to +"prepare to meet the inevitable," the Observer had apparently laid down +her pen. Marjorie soberly confided to her captain that she hoped +Christmas might make the Observer see things differently. + +Obeying the familiar mandate, which peered at her from newspaper, store +or street car, "Do Your Christmas Shopping Early," she lovingly stored +away the numerous be-ribboned bundles designed for intimate friends at +least a week before Christmas. That last week she left open in order to +go about the business of making a merry Christmas for the needy. As on +the previous year Jerry Macy and Constance were her right-hand men. +Susan, Irma, Muriel and Harriet also caught the fever of giving and the +six girls worked zealously, inspired by the highest motives, to bring +happiness to the poverty-stricken. + +Christmas morning brought Marjorie an unusual windfall of gifts. It +seemed as though everyone she liked had remembered her. Looking back on +the previous Christmas, she remembered rather sadly the Flag of Truce +and all that it had signified. This year Mary and she were again one at +heart. She dropped a few tears of sheer happiness over Mary's long +Christmas letter and the beautiful embroidered Mexican scarf that had +come with it. She had sent Mary a wonderful silver desk set engraved +with M. to M., which she hoped wistfully that Mary would like as much as +she cherished her exquisite scarf. + +The Christmas vacation was, as usual, a perpetual round of gaiety. Jerry +and Hal gave their usual dance. Constance gave a New Year's hop. Harriet +and Muriel entertained their friends at luncheons, while Marjorie +herself sent out invitations for an old-fashioned sleigh-ride party, +with an informal supper and dance at her home on the return. These +social events, with some few others of equal pleasure, sent Father Time +spinning along giddily. + +"Aren't you sorry it's all over?" sighed Constance, as she and Marjorie +lingered at the Macys' gate at the close of their first day at school +after the holidays. + +"Sorry's no name for it," declared Jerry. "We certainly had one +beautiful time, I mean a beautiful time. Honestly, I liked the getting +things ready for other folks best of all, though. I like to keep busy. I +wish we had something to do or somebody to help all the time. I'm going +to poke around and see what I can stir up. I try to do the sisterly, +helpful act toward Hal; picking up the stuff he strews all over the +house and locating lost junk, I mean articles, but he's about as +appreciative as a Feejee Islander. You know how grateful they are." + +"I saw one in a circus once," laughed Constance reminiscently. "I wasn't +impressed with his sense of gratitude. Someone threw him a peanut and he +flung it back and hit an old gentleman in the eye." + +A general giggle arose at the erring Feejee's strange conception of +gratitude. + +"That will be nice to tell Hal when he shows the same delicate sort of +thankfulness," grinned Jerry. "I'm not going to waste my precious +talents on him all winter. I'm going to dig up something better. If you +girls hear of anything, run all the way to our house, any hour of the +day or night, and tell your friend Jerry Geraldine Jeremiah. All three +are one, as Rudyard Kipling says in something or other he wrote." + +"I love Kipling's books," said Constance. "One of the first things I did +when I wasn't poor any longer was to buy a whole set. That first year at +Sanford High I tried to get them in the school library. But there were +only two or three of them." + +"That library is terribly run down," asserted Jerry. "They haven't half +the books there they ought to have. I was talking to my father about it +the other night. He promised to put it before the Board. I hope he does. +Then maybe we'll get some more books. I don't care so much for myself. I +can get all the books I want. But there are a lot of girls that can't, +who need special ones for reading courses." + +Jerry's resolve to "poke around and stir up something" did not meet with +any special success. The more needy of the Christmas poor were already +being looked after by Mrs. Dean, Mrs. Macy and other charitably disposed +persons who devoted themselves to the cause of benevolence the year +around. Generous-hearted Jerry continued to help in the good work, but +her active nature was still on the alert for some special object. + +"I've dug it up," she announced in triumph, several evenings later. The +three girls were conducting a prudent review at Jerry's home, +preparatory to the rapidly approaching mid-year test. + +"What did you say, Jerry?" Marjorie tore her eyes from her French +grammar, over which she had been poring. "I was so busy trying to fix +the conjugation of these miserable, irregular verbs in my mind that I +didn't hear you." + +"I've dug up the great idea; the how-to-be-helpful stunt. It's right in +our school, too, that our labors are needed." + +"That's interesting; ever so much more so than this." Constance Stevens +closed the book she held with a snap. "I'm not a bit fond of German," +she added. "I have to study it, though, on account of the Wagner operas. +This '_Hoeher als die Kirche_' is a pretty story, but it's terribly hard +to translate. We'll have several pages of it to do in examination. +Excuse me, Jerry, for getting off the subject. What is it that you've +dug up?" + +"It's about the library. You know I told you that my father was going to +speak of it at the Board meeting. Well, he did, but it wasn't any use. +There have been such a lot of appropriations made for other things that +the library will have to wait. That's what the high and mighty Board +say. This is what _I_ say. Why not get busy among ourselves and dig up +some money for new books?" + +"You mean by subscription?" asked Marjorie. + +"No, siree. I mean by earning it ourselves," proposed Jerry. +"Subscription would mean that a lot of girls would feel that they ought +to give something which they couldn't afford to give. Then there'd be +those who couldn't give a cent. That would be hard on them. What we +ought to do is to get up some kind of a show that the whole school would +be interested in." + +"That's a fine idea. It's public-spirited," approved Marjorie. "What +sort of entertainment do you think we might give? We couldn't give it +until after examinations, though." + +"I know the kind I'd like to give, but I can't unless a certain person +promises to help me," was Jerry's mystifying reply. + +"Miss Archer?" guessed Constance. + +"Nope; Connie Stevens." Jerry grinned widely at Constance's patent +amazement. + +"I?" she questioned. "What have I to do with it?" + +"Everything. You could coax Laurie Armitage to help us and then, too, +you'd be leading lady. Do you know now what I'm driving at? I see you +don't. Well, I'd like to give the 'Rebellious Princess' again, one night +in Sanford and the next in Riverview. That is only twenty-five miles +from here. A whole lot of the Sanfordites were disappointed last year +because they couldn't get into the theatre to see the operetta. Another +performance would pack the theatre, just as full as last Spring. I know +the Riverview folks would turn out to it. There are two high schools in +Riverview, you know. Besides, we have the costumes and everything ready. +Two or three rehearsals would be all we'd need. If we tried to give an +entertainment or a play, it would take so long to practise for it. Have +I a head on my shoulders or have I not?" + +"You certainly have," chorused her listeners. + +"I am willing to do all I can," agreed Constance. "I'll see Laurie about +it to-morrow." + +"Oh, you needn't wait until then. He's downstairs now with Hal and Danny +Seabrooke. I told Hal to ask the boys over here this evening. We can't +study all the time, you know. I suppose they are ready to tear up the +furniture because we are still up here. Danny Seabrooke is such a sweet, +patient, little boy. Put away your books and we'll go down to the +library. Since this is a library proposition, let's be consistent." + +A hum of girl voices, accompanied by the patter of light feet on the +stairs, informed three impatient youths that they had not waited in +vain. + +"At last!" exclaimed the irrepressible Daniel, better known as the +Gad-fly, his round, freckled face almost disappearing behind his +Cheshire grin. "Long have we sought thee, and now that we have found +thee----" + +"Sought nothing," contradicted Jerry. "I'll bet you haven't set foot +outside this library. There's evidence of it." She pointed to Hal and +Laurie, who had just hastily deposited foils in a corner and were now +more hastily engaged in drawing on their coats. "You've been holding a +fencing match. Laurie came out best, of course. He always does. He's a +fencing master and a musician all in one." + +"Jerry never gives me credit for anything," laughed Hal. "That is, in +public. Later, when Laurie's gone home, she'll tell me how much better I +can fence than Laurie." + +"Don't you believe him. He's trying to tease me, but I know him too well +to pay any attention to what he says." Jerry's fond grin bespoke her +affection for the brother she invariably grumbled about. At heart she +was devoted to him. In public she derived peculiar pleasure from +sparring with him. + +The trio of girls had advanced upon the library, there to hold a +business session. But the keynote of the next half hour was sociability. +It was Constance who first started the ball rolling. Ensconced beside +Laurie on the deep window seat, she told the young composer that Jerry +had a wonderful scheme to unfold. + +"Then let's get together and listen to it," he said warmly. Three +minutes afterward he had marshalled the others to the window seat. +"Everybody sit down but Jerry. She has the floor. Go ahead, Jerry. Tell +us what you'd like us to do." He reseated himself by Constance. Laurie +never neglected an opportunity to be near to the girl of his boyish +heart. + +Posting herself before her hearers with an exaggerated air of +importance, Jerry made a derisive mouth at Danny Seabrooke, who was +leaning forward with an appearance of profound interest, which +threatened to land him sprawling on the floor. "I'm not used to +addressing such a large audience," she chuckled. "Ahem! Wow!" Having +delivered herself of these enlightening remarks she straightened her +face and set forth her plan with her usual brusque energy. She ended +with: "You three boys have got to help. No backing out." + +"Surely we'll help," promised Laurie at once. "It's a good idea, Jerry. +I can have things going inside of a week. That is, if my leading lady +doesn't develop a temperament. These opera singers are very +temperamental, you know." His blue eyes rested smilingly on Constance. + +"I'm not an opera singer," she retorted. "I'm only a would-be one. +Would-be's are very humble persons. They know they must behave well. You +had better interview your tenor lead. Tenors are supposed to be terribly +irresponsible." + +Amid an exchange of equally harmless badinage, the six willing workers +discussed the plan at length. So much excited discussion was provocative +of hunger. No one, except Hal, said so, yet when Jerry disappeared to +return trundling a tea wagon, filled with delectable provender, she was +hailed with acclamation. + +"What splendid times we always have together," was Marjorie's +enthusiastic opinion, when seated beside Hal in his own pet car she was +being conveyed home. Snatches of mirthful conversation issuing from the +tonneau where the rest of the sextette, Jerry included, were enjoying +themselves hugely, seemed direct corroboration of her words. Invited to +"come along," Jerry had needed no second urging. + +"That's your fault," Hal made gallant response. "You are the magnet that +draws us all together. Before you and Jerry were friends I never +realized what a fine sister I had. If you hadn't been so nice to +Constance, she and Laurie might never have come to know each other so +well. Then there's Dan. He always used to run away from girls. He got +over his first fright at that little party you gave the first year you +came to Sanford. You're a magician, Marjorie, and you're making a pretty +nice history for yourself among your friends. I hope always to be among +the best of them." Hal was very earnest in his boyish praise. + +"I am sure we'll always be the best of friends, Hal," she said +seriously, though her color heightened at the sincere tribute to +herself. "I can't see that I've done anything specially wonderful, +though. It's easy to be nice to those one likes who like one in return. +It's being nice to those one doesn't like that's hard. It's harder still +not to be liked." + +"Then you aren't apt to know that hardship," retorted Hal. + +Marjorie smiled faintly. She had known that very hardship ever since she +had come to Sanford. She merely answered: "Everybody must meet a few, I +won't say enemies, I'll just say, people who don't like one." + +That night as she sat before her dressing table brushing her thick, +brown curls, she pondered thoughtfully over Hal Macy's words. In saying +them she knew he had been sincere. It was sweet to hope that she _had_ +been and was still a power for good. Yet it made her feel very humble. +She could only resolve to try always to live up to that difficult +standard. + + + + +CHAPTER XX--CONSTANCE POINTS THE WAY + + +"THIS is a nice state of affairs," scolded Jerry Macy. "What do you +suppose has happened, Marjorie?" Overtaking her friend in the corridor +on the way from recitation, Jerry's loud question cut the air like a +verbal bomb-shell. Without waiting for a reply she continued in a +slightly lower key. "Harriet has tonsilitis. Isn't that the worst you +ever heard? And only three days before the operetta, too. We can't give +it until she gets well, unless somebody in the chorus can sing her role. +I'm going to telephone Laurie after my next class is over and tell him +about it. The chorus is our only hope. Some one of the girls may know +the part fairly well. They all ought to after so much rehearsing last +Spring. Most of them can't do solo work, though. Do you think you could +sing it?" Jerry had drawn Marjorie to one side of the corridor as she +rapidly related her bad news. + +"Mercy, no!" Marjorie registered dismay at the mere suggestion. "I +wouldn't dream of attempting it. Isn't it too bad that Harriet hasn't an +understudy? I'm ever so sorry she's sick. How dreadfully disappointed +she must be." + +"Not any more so than half of Sanford will be when they hear the +operetta's been postponed. Every reserved seat ticket's been sold. Who'd +have thought that Harriet would go and get tonsilitis?" mourned Jerry. +"There's a regular epidemic of it in Sanford. You know Nellie Simmons +had it when the sophs wanted that basket ball game postponed. Quite a +number of Sanford High girls have had it, too. Be careful you don't get +it." + +Marjorie laughed. "Oh, _I_ won't. Don't worry. I'm never sick. We'll +have to go, Jerry. There's the last bell." + +"You had better touch wood." Jerry hurled this warning advice over one +plump shoulder as she moved off. + +It brought a smile to Marjorie's lips. She was not in the least +superstitious. She grew grave with the thought that the operetta would +have to be postponed. At the first performance of the "Rebellious +Princess," Harriet had sung her part at a moment's notice. Until then +she had been Mignon La Salle's understudy. Struck by a sudden thought +Marjorie stopped short. Jerry had evidently forgotten that Mignon knew +the role. Still, it would do no good to remind her of it, or Laurie +either. She believed that Jerry, at least, would infinitely prefer that +the operetta should never be given rather than allow Mignon to sing in +it. The mere mention of it was likely to make her cross. Marjorie +decided to keep her own counsel. She had no reason to wish to see Mignon +thus honored, particularly after her treacherous attempt to do Constance +out of her part. Then, too, there was the new grievance of the Observer +against her. + +By the time school was over for the day, Constance had already been +acquainted with the dire news. Apart from her two chums, Jerry had told +no one else except Hal and Laurie. When the three girls emerged from the +school building, accompanied by Susan, Muriel and Irma, they saw the two +young men waiting for them across the street. The latter three faithful +satellites immediately took themselves off with much giggling advice to +Jerry that four was a company, but five a crowd. Jerry merely grinned +amiably and refused to join them. She knew her own business. + +"This is too bad, Jerry," were Laurie's first words. "What are we to +do?" + +"That's for you to say," shrugged Jerry. "All I can think of to do is +have a try-out of the chorus. If none of them can sing Harriet's part, +we'll have to call it off. I mean postpone it." Jerry cast a sly glance +at Hal to see if he had noticed her polite amendment. + +"What have you to say, Constance and Marjorie?" queried Laurie. "But the +street is not the place for a consultation. Suppose we go down to +Sargent's to talk it over. I spoke to Professor Harmon this afternoon, +but he said he'd rather leave it to me. He's busy just now with that new +boy choir at the Episcopal Church. He wants me to direct the operetta." + +Voicing approval of this last, the three girls allowed their willing +cavaliers to steer them toward Sargent's hospitable doors. Hal, Marjorie +and Jerry took the lead, leaving Constance and Laurie to follow. Nothing +further relating to the problem that had risen was said until the five +were seated at a rear table in the confectioner's smart little shop. +Then Laurie abruptly took it up. "We are ready for suggestions," he +invited. + +"I have one." There was a peculiar note of uncertainty in Constance's +voice as she spoke. "You are not going to be pleased with it, but it +seems to me the only thing to do." More boldly she added: "Let Mignon La +Salle sing the part." + +"Never!" burst from Laurie and Jerry simultaneously. + +The appearance of a white-coated youth to take their order halted the +discussion for a moment. As he hurried away Marjorie's soft voice was +heard: "I thought of that, too, this morning. I had made up my mind not +to speak of it. Connie makes me ashamed of myself. Connie is willing for +Mignon to sing the part that she cheated herself of. I think we ought to +be." + +In silence Laurie stared at her across the table, his brows knitted in a +deep frown. Then his gaze rested on Constance. "You girls are queer," he +said slowly. "I don't understand you at all." + +"I do," declared Jerry, far from pleased. "I can't say I agree with +them, though. If we ask Mignon to sing the part (I don't know who's +going to ask her), she will parade around like a peacock. She may say +'no' just for spite. She doesn't speak to any of us." Then she added in +a milder tone, "I suppose her father would dance a hornpipe if we let +her sing it. I heard he felt terribly about the way she performed last +Spring. You know he put off a business trip just to go to hear her sing, +and then she didn't. She had nobody but herself to blame, though." + +Unwittingly, Jerry had struck a responsive chord in Hal. Leaning +forward, he said impulsively, "Then I think I'd ask her, Laurie. Mr. La +Salle is a fine man. His office is next to Dad's. I often go in there +and talk to him. He is mighty interesting. He has traveled all over the +world and knows how to tell about what he's seen. He's all wrapped up in +Mignon. You can see that. I wish you'd ask her just on his account. It +would pay up for last Spring." + +"Three against two," grumbled Jerry, "and one of them my own brother. Do +we stand our ground, Laurie, or do we not?" + +Laurie did not answer immediately. He had not forgiven the French girl +her transgression against Constance. The battery of earnest blue and +brown eyes bent upon him proved fatal to his animosity. "Our ground +seems to be shaky," he answered. "The majority generally rules." + +"Then you _will_ ask her?" Constance flashed him a radiant smile that +quite repaid him for his hinted decision in Mignon's favor. "It will +have to be you. She wouldn't do it for us." + +Laurie showed lively consternation. "Oh, see here----" Innate chivalry +toward girlhood overtook him. "All right," he answered. "I'll ask her." + +In the midst of countless woes, arising from her unwilling allegiance to +Rowena Farnham, Mignon next day received the glorious invitation from a +most studiedly polite young man. If anyone other than Lawrence Armitage +had come to her with the request she would, in all probability, refused +pointblank to countenance the idea. Mignon still cherished her +school-girl preference for the handsome young musician. She, therefore, +assented to the proposal with only the merest show of reluctance. Laurie +made it very plain, however, that Constance Stevens desired it. +Inwardly, Mignon writhed with anger; outwardly, she was a smiling image +of amiability. + +Afterward she experienced the deepest satisfaction in boasting to Rowena +of the honor which had come to her. + +"I think I'll be in that operetta, too," had been Rowena's calm +decision. "I'll go to that Lawrence Armitage and tell him I shall sing +in the chorus." Straightway, she went on this laudable errand, only to +be politely but firmly informed that there were no chorus vacancies. +Over this she raged to Mignon, then consoled herself and dismayed the +French girl by calmly announcing, "I'm going to the theatre with you +just the same and watch the silly operetta from behind the scenes. Let +me know when you have your rehearsals, for I intend to go to them, too." + +Resorting to craft, Mignon managed to attend the first rehearsal without +Rowena. The latter discovered this and pounced upon her on her way home +with a torrent of ungentle remarks. Bullied to tears, Mignon was obliged +to allow Rowena to accompany her to the second and third rehearsals, the +third being the last before the public performance. + +Though the cast secretly objected to this, they made no open +manifestation of their disgust. It was now fairly well known how matters +stood between Rowena and Mignon. The latter had no reason to complain of +the universally civil treatment she received. It was merely civil, +however, and contained no friendliness of spirit. By the entire cast the +French girl was regarded as an evil necessity. For that reason they also +reluctantly endured Rowena's presence. But Rowena derived no pleasure +from her intrusion, except the fact that she was a source of covert +annoyance to all parties. Her jealous soul was filled with torment at +being left out of the production. Shrewd intuition alone warned her not +to create even the slightest disturbance. She had determined to go with +the cast to Riverview. Consequently, she did not propose cutting off her +nose to spite her face. + +The knowledge that the proceeds from the operetta were to be devoted to +school use, rallied the Sanfordites to the cause. The Sanford +performances went off without a hitch before a huge and delighted +assemblage. It may be set down to her credit that Mignon La Salle sang +the part of the proud step-sister even better than Harriet Delaney had +rendered it. Her dramatic ability was considerable and her voice and +temperament were eminently suited to her role. On this one occasion her +long-suffering parent was not disappointed in his daughter. Natural +perspicacity caused him to wonder not a little how it had all come +about, and he made a mental note to inquire into it at the first +opportunity. Strongly disapproving of the intimacy between Mignon and +Rowena Farnham, he was hopeful that this honor done his daughter would +throw her again among the finer type of the Sanford girls. From his +young friend Hal Macy he had received glowing descriptions of Marjorie +and her close friends, and he longed to see Mignon take kindly to them. + +Could he have peeped into Mignon's subtle brain, his dreams would have +vanished in thin air. Ever the ingrate, she was thankful to none for the +unexpected chance to glitter. At heart she was the same tigerish young +person, ready to claw at a moment's notice. Within her lurked two +permanent desires. One of them was to win the interest of Lawrence +Armitage; the other to be free of Rowena. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI--ROWENA RE-ARRANGES MATTERS + + +THE Sanford performance of "The Rebellious Princess" took place on +Friday evening. Late the following afternoon the illustrious cast were +conveyed by train or motor to Riverview, the scene of Saturday evening's +operations. Marjorie, Constance, Mr. and Mrs. Dean drove there in the +Deans' motor. Accompanied by Mrs. Macy, Jerry, Susan, Muriel and Irma +motored to Riverview together. Hal and Laurie sought temporary freedom +from the fair sex in the latter's roadster. Mr. La Salle had promised, +at Mignon's earnest request, to drive to Riverview with her in her +runabout. She had adopted this means of thus temporarily eliminating +Rowena. Not daring to thrust herself upon Mignon when bolstered by her +father's protection, Rowena had declared buoyantly that she would be +there anyway. + +Unfortunately for Mignon, a sudden business emergency sent Mr. La Salle +speeding to Buffalo on the Saturday morning train. Before going, +however, he instructed his chauffeur to drive Mignon to the train for +Riverview and see her safely on it. With others of the cast on the same +train, she would be in good company. But the best laid plans often go +astray. Ever on the alert for treachery, Rowena saw Mr. La Salle depart +and hurrying to the La Salle's home soon bullied the true state of +affairs from his petulant offspring. + +"Don't bother about taking the train," Rowena counseled arrogantly. +"James will drive us over to Riverview in our limousine. He can stay +there until the show is over and bring us home." + +"I can't do that," parried Mignon. "My father gave orders to William to +drive me to the train the cast is to take and put me on it. If I were to +go with you, William would tell him." + +"Oh, no, he wouldn't," retorted Rowena. "Just let me talk to William." +Without waiting for further excuses from Mignon, the self-willed +sophomore dashed out of the house in the direction of the La Salle +garage. Mignon followed her, divided between vexation and approbation. +She was far from anxious to make the journey to Riverview by train. For +once Rowena stood for the lesser of two evils. + +"Come here, William," called Rowena, pausing outside the open garage +door and imperiously beckoning the chauffeur who was engaged in putting +a fresh tire on Mignon's runabout. + +"What is it, Miss?" asked the man, as he frowningly approached Rowena. + +"You needn't take Miss La Salle to the train this afternoon. She's going +with me. She has so much luggage she can't manage it on the train, so +she had to make different arrangements." Rowena presented a formidably +smiling front as she gave her command. + +"But Mr. La Salle----" protested William. + +"Don't be impertinent," was the freezing interruption. "We know our own +business. Miss La Salle's father will know all about it when he returns. +Won't he?" She turned to Mignon for confirmation. + +"It is all right, William," the latter assured him, purposely neglecting +to answer Rowena's question. "My father will be told when he returns. He +forgot about my luggage." + +"All right, Miss Mignon." William was far too discreet to court the +double attack, which he knew would be forthcoming, should he continue to +protest. Miss Mignon always did as she pleased, regardless of her +father. He made mental note, however, to clear himself the instant his +employer returned. + +"That was simple enough," exulted Rowena, as they turned away. "You +ought to be glad I fixed everything so nicely for you. I expect some of +those snippy girls will be anything but pleased to have me behind the +scenes to-night." + +"You'd better keep to my dressing room," warned Mignon. "On account of +it being a different theatre, there is sure to be some confusion. Laurie +Armitage won't like it if you go strolling around among the cast the way +you've done at rehearsals." + +"You just attend to your own affairs," blustered Rowena, "and I'll +attend to mine. Who cares what that high and mighty Lawrence Armitage +thinks? He's so wrapped up in that milk-and-water baby of a Constance +Stevens he doesn't know you are alive. Too bad, isn't it?" + +Mignon turned red as a poppy. She began to wish she had not allowed +Rowena to alter the arrangements her father had prudently made. Frowning +her displeasure at the brutal taunt, she cast a half-longing glance +toward the garage. There was still time to inform William that she had +changed her mind. + +Instantly Rowena marked the glance and divined its import. It did not +accord with her plans. If she drove Mignon to reconsider her decision, +it meant one of two things. To quarrel openly with her would place +beyond reach the possibility of accompanying her to Riverview. If Rowena +went there alone she could not hope to be allowed to go behind the +scenes. On the other hand she dared not jeopardize her control over +Mignon by permitting her to gain even one point. + +"Don't be foolish," she advised in a more conciliatory tone. "I was only +teasing you about that Stevens girl. One of these days this Armitage boy +will find out what a silly little thing she is. If you are nice to me, I +daresay I can help him to find it out." + +Mignon brightened visibly. From all she had learned of Rowena's +practical methods, she believed her capable of accomplishing wonders in +the mischief-making line. "I suppose you mean well," she said a trifle +sullenly. "Still, I don't think you ought to say such cutting things to +me, Rowena." + +Thus once more a temporary truce was declared between these two wayward +children of impulse. Though neither trusted the other, sheer love of +self admonished them that they could accomplish more by hanging +together. Mignon, however, was destined to learn that an unstable prop +is no more to be relied upon than no prop at all. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII--THE RESULT OF PLAYING WITH FIRE + + +"See here, Jerry, can't something be done to keep that Miss Farnham from +completely upsetting the cast?" Laurie Armitage's fine face was dark +with disapproval as he halted Jerry, who was hurrying by him toward +Constance's dressing room. "I just heard her telling one of the girls in +the chorus that her costume was 'frightfully unbecoming.' The poor girl +turned red and looked ready to cry. She's been circulating among the +chorus ever since she and Mignon landed in the theatre. Goodness knows +what else she has been saying. It won't do. This isn't Sanford, you +know. We hope to give a perfect performance here. I wish I had told +Mignon not to bring her. I hated to do it, though. She might have got +wrathy and backed out at the last minute. If ever I compose another +operetta, I'll let somebody else manage it. I'm through," Laurie +concluded in disgust. + +"Why don't you ask Mignon to keep her in the dressing room?" suggested +Jerry. "She's the only one who can manage Row-ena. I doubt if _she_ +can." + +"Might as well touch a match to a bundle of firecrackers," compared +Laurie gloomily. "Can't you think of anything else?" + +Jerry studied for a moment. As Laurie's helper she felt that she ought +to measure up to the situation. "It's almost time for the show to +begin," she said. "The chorus will soon be too busy to bother with her. +After the first act, she'll be in Mignon's dressing room. Then I'll slip +around among the girls and whisper to them not to mind her. She can't +bother the principals. She doesn't dare go near Constance or any of the +boys like Hal and the Crane." + +"Please do that." Laurie sighed with relief. "It will help me a great +deal." + +Unaware that she had become the victim of a needful strategy, Rowena was +serenely deriving huge enjoyment from the brutally frank criticisms she +was lavishing right and left among the unoffending choirsters. It was a +supreme happiness to her to see her carefully delivered shots strike +home. But her ambition to wound lay not entirely with the chorus. She +was yearning for a chance to nettle Constance Stevens, whom she hated by +reason of the impassable gulf that lay between Constance and herself. +Never, since she had come to Sanford, had Constance appeared even to +know that she existed. This galled Rowena beyond expression. As a leader +among the high school girls she had deemed Constance worth cultivating. +She might as readily have tried to bring down the North Star as to +ingratiate herself with this calm, lovely girl, and she knew it. Here +was something which she could not obtain. Failing, she marked her as a +victim for ridicule and scorn. + +The first act over at last, Rowena posted herself in Mignon's dressing +room and proceeded to regale the latter with a derisive, laughing +account of her fruitful wanderings among the cast. Mignon listened to +her with indifference. As she opened the second act, her mind was on her +role. She was hardly aware that her tormentor had left the dressing room +until she became conscious that the high-pitched tones had suddenly +ceased. + +Mignon proving altogether too non-committal to suit her difficult fancy, +Rowena had fared forth in search of fresh adventure. The star dressing +room, occupied by Constance, lay two doors farther down the corridor. In +passing and repassing it that evening, Rowena had vainly ransacked her +guileful brain for an excuse to invade it. Now as she left Mignon's +dressing room she decided to put on an intrepid front and pay Constance +a call. Her large, black eyes danced with pure malice as she doubled a +fist and pounded upon the closed door. + +"Who is there?" came from within. The vigorous tattoo had startled +Constance. + +For answer Rowena simply swung open the door and stepped into the room. +"I thought I'd pay you a call," she announced with cool complacence. + +Seated before a low make-up shelf on which reposed a mirror, Constance +was engaged in readjusting her coiffure, which had become slightly +loosened during the first act. Her blue eyes showed wondering surprise +as she turned in her chair to face the intruder. From Jerry she had +already heard angry protests against this mischievous girl. Quiet +Constance now read fresh mischief in the intrusion. She resolved to +treat her uninvited guest civilly. If possible she would try to keep her +in the dressing room until the second act was called. Better that than +allow her to further annoy the other girls. As she had no change of +costume to make she was free to entertain her unbidden visitor. + +"Sit down," she evenly invited, neither cordial nor cold. "How do you +like the operetta?" + +Rather taken aback by this placid reception, Rowena dropped gracefully +into a chair, her dark eyes fixed speculatively on her hostess. +Shrugging her shoulders she gave a contemptuous little laugh as she +answered: "Oh, these amateur productions are all alike. _Some_, of +course, are more stupid than others." + +"Do you include the poor Princess among the more stupid?" asked +Constance, smiling in spite of herself at this patent attempt to be +disagreeable. + +"I don't include it in anything. I don't even know what it's all about. +I only came to rehearsals and here to amuse myself. Sanford is the +deadest town I was ever in and Sanford High School is a regular +kindergarten. I suppose you know who I am, don't you?" Rowena crested +her auburn head a trifle. + +"Yes. You are Miss Farnham." Constance made reply in an enigmatic tone. + +A threatening sparkle leaped to the other's eyes. She was beginning to +resent Constance's quiet attitude. "If you knew who I was, why didn't +you speak to me at the first rehearsal?" she sharply launched. + +"I merely knew you by sight. There are many girls in Sanford High whom I +do not know personally." + +"But _I'm_ different," pursued Rowena. "My father is very rich and I can +have whatever I like. You must know that. You ought to associate with +girls of your own class. Your aunt has lots of money and can give you +social position. That Geraldine Macy is the only rich girl you ever go +with. All the others are just middle class. You're foolish to waste your +time on Marjorie----" + +Constance had received Rowena's first words with secret amusement. As +she continued to listen her inward smile changed to outward, rather. At +mention of Marjorie her self-imposed placidity flew to the winds. +"Kindly leave my dressing room," she ordered, her voice shaking with +indignation. "Marjorie Dean is my dearest friend. No one can belittle +her to me. Least of all, _you_." Constance had slowly risen, her blue +eyes dark with the injury to one she loved. + +"I thought that would bring you to life," laughed Rowena, making no move +to rise. As she sat there, the light playing on her ruddy hair, her +black eyes agleam with tantalizing mirth, Constance could not but wonder +at her tigerish beauty. To quote Muriel, she did resemble "a big, +striped tiger." + +Without answering, Constance moved to the door and opened it. She was +about to step into the corridor when Rowena sprang forward and clutched +her by the arm. "You milk-and-water baby, do you think----" She did not +finish. As Constance stepped over the threshold she came almost into +collision with Lawrence Armitage. His keen glance immediately took in +the situation. He saw Rowena's arm drop to her side. Brushing past +Constance like a whirlwind, she gained the shelter of Mignon's dressing +room and disappeared. + +"Hurry. You'll miss your cue. I didn't see you in the wings and came to +warn you. Run along. I'll see you later," uttered Laurie rapidly. His +words sent Constance moving rapidly toward the stairway. His lips +tightened as he watched her disappear. For a moment he stood still, +then, turning, took the same direction. + +"Just a moment, Miss La Salle." Seeking the stairway at the close of the +second act, Mignon was halted by a troubled young man. "I don't wish to +be disagreeable, but--Miss Farnham must either remain in your dressing +room during the third act or go out in the audience. I am not blaming +you. You've sung your part splendidly to-night and I appreciate your +effort. Will you help me in this? We don't wish anything to occur to +spoil the rest of the operetta. I am sure you understand." Appeal looked +out from his deeply blue eyes. + +"Of course I'll help you." Mignon experienced a sudden thrill of +triumph. Lawrence Armitage was actually asking her to do him a favor. +Valiance rose within her. She quite forgot her dread of Rowena's +bluster. Flashing him her most fascinating smile, she held out her hand +in token of good faith. Inwardly she was hoping that Constance might +happen along to witness the tableau. Laurie clasped it lightly. He was +not in the least impressed. "Thank you." He wheeled abruptly and turned +away. + +Mignon ran lightly down the stairs and to her dressing room. Inspired by +the recent interview, she promptly accosted the ubiquitous Rowena, as +she lounged lazily in a chair. "You mustn't go out of the dressing room +or upstairs again until the operetta is over," she dictated. "Laurie +doesn't want you to. He just spoke to me about it. He has allowed you a +lot of liberty already, so I think you'd better do as he says. It won't +be long now until----" + +"So _Laurie_ thinks he can order me about, does he?" Rowena sprang to +her feet in a rage. "_That_ for Laurie!" She snapped contemptuous +fingers. "This is your work. You've been talking about me to him. But +you'll be sorry. I know a way----" + +Her mood swiftly changing she threw back her head and laughed. Resuming +her chair she sat silently eyeing Mignon with a mirthful malevolence +that sent a shiver of apprehension up and down the French girl's spine. +Rowena had undoubtedly been inspired with an idea that boded no good to +her. As she dressed for the third act she cast more than one nervous +glance at the smiling figure of insolence in the chair. + +Not a word further had been exchanged between the two when the third act +was called. Mignon half expected to see Rowena rise and follow her up +the stairs, there to create a scene with Laurie that would delay the +rise of the curtain. Nothing of the kind occurred, however, and the last +act began and went on to a triumphant end. + +After the curtain had been rung down on the final tableau, she made a +dash for the stairs to encounter Rowena ascending them. She had already +donned her evening cape and scarf. At sight of Mignon she called out in +the careless, good-humored fashion she could assume at will: "Hurry up. +I'm going on out to the limousine. I need a breath of fresh air." + +Partially convinced that Rowena had recovered from her fit of temper, +Mignon gladly hastened to do her bidding. It was not until she began to +look about for her high-laced boots that she changed her mind concerning +her companion. They were nowhere to be seen. "Rowena has hidden them, +just to be aggravating!" she exclaimed angrily. "That was her revenge. +But I'll find them." + +After a frantic ten-minutes' search she managed to locate them, tucked +into either sleeve of the long fur coat she had worn. Thankful to find +them, she laced them in a hurry and proceeded to dress with all speed. A +repeated receding of footsteps and gay voices from the direction of the +stairway warned her that the dressing rooms were being rapidly deserted. +Those who had come to Riverview by railway had only a short time after +the performance in which to catch the last train for the night. + +Taking the stairs, two at a time, Mignon made a rush for the stage door +and on out into the cold, starlit night. The first thing she noted was a +large part of the cast hurriedly boarding a street car for the station. +But where was the Farnham limousine and Rowena? Where was the little +line of automobiles she had seen parked along the street when she +entered the theatre? Only one now remained, almost a block farther up +the street. Her heart beat thankfully as she observed it. It looked like +the Farnham limousine. It was just like Rowena to thus draw away a +little distance in order to scare her into thinking she had been left +behind. + +Racing toward it she saw that the chauffeur was engaged in examining one +of its tires. She heard a cheery voice call out, "All right, Captain," +and her knees grew weak. The voice did not sound like that of James, the +Farnhams' chauffeur. Hoping against hope she came abreast of it. Then +her elfin eyes grew wide with despair. It was not the Farnhams' car. It +belonged to none other than the Deans. + +Heartsick, she was about to turn away when a fresh young voice called +out, "Mignon La Salle!" Forgetting everything except that she was in +difficulties, she halted and managed to articulate, "Have you seen Miss +Farnham's car?" + +"Why, no," came the wondering reply. "Have you missed her?" + +"I saw her go by in a limousine," stated Constance Stevens, from the +tonneau of the Deans' car. "She was driving and the chauffeur was +sitting beside her." + +A belated light now dawned upon Mignon. She understood that this was the +fruition of Rowena's threat. She had purposely run off and left her, +knowing that she could not hope to catch the last train. + +In the dark of the tonneau, Constance gave Marjorie's hand a quick +pressure. Its instant return signified that her chum understood. Without +hesitation she called to the tragic little figure on the sidewalk, +"We'll take you home, Mignon. It's lucky that General stopped to examine +that tire." Then to her father, "This is Mignon La Salle, Father. You +know her, Mother." + +"Yes." Mrs. Dean bowed in reserved fashion. "Get into the tonneau with +the girls, Miss La Salle. We will see that you arrive safely at your own +door." + +The unexpected courtesy very nearly robbed the stranded girl of speech. +Stammering her thanks, Mignon climbed ruefully into the tonneau and +seated herself by Marjorie. As the car began a loud purr, preparatory to +starting, her outraged feelings overcame her and she burst into tears. +"It was hateful in her," she sobbed, "perfectly hateful." + +"It was," agreed Marjorie positively. "But I wouldn't cry about it. You +are all right now." Then with a view to cheering the weeper, she added: +"You sang your part beautifully both nights, Mignon. That's something to +be glad of. This little trouble doesn't really matter, since everything +turned out well." + +"It's nice in you to say it," quavered Mignon. "But, oh, how I despise +that hateful, hateful girl. I'll never, never speak to her again as long +as I live." + +Marjorie might easily have assured her that this was a wise decision. +Instead, she prudently refrained from committing herself. Mignon's mind +continued to dwell on her wrongs. She cried and raged against her +treacherous companion during most of the ride home. Constance and +Marjorie were obliged to listen and administer judicious consolation. It +did not appear to sink deep. Mignon was too self-centered to realize +their generosity of spirit. When they left her at the La Salle's gate +she tried to put graciousness into her thanks, but her thoughts were too +firmly fixed upon faithless Rowena and herself to appreciate the +kindness she had received. + +"For once Mignon had to swallow a dose of her own medicine," commented +Constance grimly, as the Deans' car sped away toward their home, where +Connie was to spend the night with Marjorie. + +"She found it pretty hard to take," mused Marjorie. "It's a good thing, +though. This will end Mignon's friendship with Rowena, but it won't +change her one little bit. I don't believe she'll ever change." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII--A PECULIAR REQUEST + + +"Four letters for you, Lieutenant. Hunt them," decreed Mrs. Dean, as +Marjorie burst into the living room, her cheeks rosy from the nipping +kisses of the winter air. + +"Oh, I know where they are." Jubilantly overturning the contents of her +mother's sewing basket, she triumphantly drew them forth. Without +bothering to remove her wraps she plumped down at her mother's feet to +revel in her spoils. + +"Here's one from Mary. I'll read that last. Here's one from Harriet." +Opening it she read it through and passed it to her mother. "Harriet's +almost well again. Isn't that good news? Why----" she had opened the +next--"it's from Mignon; a little note of thanks. Oh, Captain!" she +stared hard at the note. "I've discovered something. Mignon's not the +horrid Observer. See. The writing and paper and all are quite different. +I'm sure she isn't. She'd never ask anyone else to write such letters. +It's not her way." + +"Then that is good news, too," smiled Mrs. Dean. "I am also glad to know +it. It is dreadful to misjudge anyone." + +"I know that. I wish I knew who the Observer was, too." Marjorie sighed +and took up the next letter. As she read it she laughed outright. "It's +from General, the old dear. Just listen: + + "Esteemed Lieutenant: + + "Head up, forward march to the downtown barracks. Report for stern + duty at 4:30 to-morrow (Thursday) P. M. Your most military presence + is requested to assist in conferring with an official committee in a + matter of great importance to the parties concerned. Failure to + appear on time will be punished by court-martial. Be warned not to + try to ambush your general in the living room to ascertain the facts + beforehand. You will only be captured and sent to the guard house. + + "Signed, + "General Dean." + +"It's a surprise," nodded Marjorie. "I know it is. Very well, I'll show +him that I'm not a bit curious. I'll tell him, though, that it's not +fair to threaten a soldier. Do you know what it's about, Captain?" + +"No; I am equally in the dark. I wouldn't tell you if I knew," Mrs. Dean +answered teasingly. + +"I wouldn't let you," retorted Marjorie. "I have to be loyal to my +orders. Now I'll read Mary's letter and then go and answer it. If I +don't answer it now I might put it off." + +Laying the three notes aside, she busied herself with the long letter +from Mary, reading it aloud with numerous exclamations and comments. +True to her word, she made no mention to her father of his letter. +Delighting to tease her, he hinted broadly concerning it, but failed to +draw Marjorie into questioning him. + +Nevertheless, it was a most curious young woman who entered his office +the following afternoon at the exact moment of appointment. Her +curiosity was lost in wide-eyed amazement as she saw that he was not +alone. Seated in a chair beside his desk was a stout, dark man of middle +age, whose restless, black eyes and small, dark mustache bespoke the +foreigner. But this was not the cause of her astonishment. It lay in the +fact that the man was Mignon La Salle's father. Both men rose as she +entered, Mr. La Salle bowing to her in the graceful fashion of the +Frenchman. + +"Sit here, Lieutenant. Mr. La Salle wishes to talk with you. He is kind +enough to allow me to be present at the conference." + +"Miss Marjorie, I have not had the pleasure of meeting you before +to-day. It is a very great pleasure. I have already thanked your father +for his kindness to my daughter several evenings since. Now I must thank +you, too. But I wish also to ask a far greater favor. My daughter, +Mignon," he paused as though at a loss to proceed, "is a somewhat +peculiar girl. For many years she has had no mother." He sighed, then +continuing, "I wish her to be all that is good and fine. But I am a busy +man. I cannot take time to be with her as I would desire. From my friend +Harold Macy I have heard many pleasant things of you and your friends. +So I have thought that it might be well to ask you if you----" Again he +paused, his black eyes riveted on Marjorie, "if you will take an +interest in my daughter, so that I may feel that her associates are of +the best. + +"I regret greatly her friendship with Miss Farnham. But that is past. +She has told me all, and I have forbidden their further intimacy. +Perhaps you are already the friend of my Mignon? If so, it is, indeed, +well. If not, may I hope that you will soon become such, indeed?" There +was a trace of pleading in his carefully enunciated speech with its +slightly foreign accent. + +A queer, choking sensation gripped Marjorie's throat. She was +immeasurably touched. Happy in her General's love, she glimpsed +something of the tender motive, which had actuated this stern man of +business to plead for his daughter's welfare. + +"I am willing to be Mignon's friend, if she is willing to be mine," she +answered with grave sweetness. "I think I may speak for my friends, +also." + +"Thank you. She will respond, I am sure." A faint tightening of his thin +lips gave hint that he would see to the exaction of that response. "It +will be a pleasure to invite you to dine with us to-morrow evening," he +added. La Salle Pere evidently intended to allow no grass to grow under +his feet. + +"Thank you. May I go, General?" Marjorie's eyes sought her father's. +Though she had maintained a gracious composure, he guessed that she was +far from easy over this queer turn of affairs. There was a faintly +martyred look in her brown eyes. + +"Yes," he said in a steady, reassuring tone. "Your General approves." He +flashed her a mischievous glance. + +"Then you may expect me." Marjorie rose and offered her hand to the +anxious father. "I must go now," she said. "I am very glad to have met +you, Mr. La Salle." + +Once outside the office she drew a long breath of dismay. "I'm quite +sure of most of the girls," was her reflection, "but what, oh, what will +Jerry say?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV--AN UNEXPECTED CALAMITY + + +Jerry had a great deal to say. She was so justly wrathful she very +nearly cried. "It's the worst thing I ever heard of," she sputtered. "I +wish we'd never revived that old operetta. Then Mignon wouldn't have +sung in it and got left at the switch, and you wouldn't be asking us to +make martyrs of ourselves. After all you've said about being through +with Mignon, too! It's a shame!" + +"But just suppose her father had come to you and asked you to help her, +what would you have done?" pleaded Marjorie. + +"Told him Mignon's history and advised him to lock her up," snapped +Jerry. "I hope---- Oh, I don't know what I hope. I can't think of anything +horrible enough to hope." + +"Poor Jeremiah. It's too bad." Marjorie's little hand slipped itself +into the plump girl's fingers. "You know you'd have done just as I did. +I had quite a long talk with Mignon last night. After dinner her father +left us to ourselves. It wasn't exactly pleasant. She would say mean +things about Rowena. Still, she said she'd like to try again and wished +that we would all help her. So I said for all of us that we would. You +won't back out, will you, Jerry?" + +"I don't know. Wait a week or two and see what she does, then I can tell +better. You've got to show me. I mean, I must be convinced." Jerry +wrinkled her nose at Marjorie and giggled. Her ruffled good humor was +smoothing itself down. + +"That means, you _will_ help her," was Marjorie's fond translation. +"Constance is willing, too. I am sure of Irma and Harriet, but Susan and +Muriel are doubtful. Still, I think I can win them over if I tell them +that you are with me in our plan." + +"There's just this much about it, Marjorie." Jerry spoke with unusual +seriousness. "Mignon will have to play fair or I'll drop her with a +bang. Just like that. The first time I find her trying any of her +deceitful tricks will be the last with me. Remember, I mean what I say. +If anything like that happens, don't ask me to overlook it, for I won't. +Not even to please you, and I'd rather please _you_ than anybody else I +know." + +"I'll remember," laughed Marjorie. She was not greatly impressed by +Jerry's declaration. The stout girl was apt to take a contrary stand, +merely for the sake of variety. She had expected that Jerry would scold +roundly, then give in with a final threatening grumble. + +Susan and Muriel she found even harder to convince of Mignon's +repentance than Jerry. Muriel was especially obstinate. "I'll speak to +Mignon," she stipulated, "but I won't ask her to my house or go any +place with her. Now that we've made over five hundred dollars out of the +operetta for the library, you know we've been talking about getting up a +club. Of course, she'll want to be in it. But she sha'n't." + +"Then there's no use in trying to help her," said Marjorie calmly, "if +we don't include her in our work and our good times." + +"That's precisely what you said last year," retorted Muriel. "You +invited her to your party and she nearly broke it up. After that I +wonder that you can even dream of trusting her. I've known her longer +than you, Marjorie. When we all went to grammar school together she was +always the disturber. She used to fight with us and then come sliding +around to make up. She'd promise to be good, but she never kept her word +for long. + +"Once she behaved pretty well for three months and we began to like her +a little. Then one day some of us went to the woods on a picnic. We took +our luncheon and spread a tablecloth on the grass. When we had all the +eats spread out on the tablecloth and sat down around it, Mignon got mad +because Susan said something to me that made me laugh. We happened to +look at her, but we weren't talking about her. She thought so, though. +She began sputtering at us like a firecracker. The more we all tried to +calm her the madder she got. Before we could stop her she caught the +tablecloth in both hands and gave it a hard jerk. You can imagine what +happened! All our nice eats were jumbled together into the grass. The +ants got into them and we had to throw nearly everything away. She +didn't stop to help pick up things. She rushed off home and none of us +spoke to her for the rest of the year. That's why I can't believe in her +repentance. Sooner or later she's bound to upset things again, just as +she did that time." + +Marjorie could not resist laughing a little at Muriel's tragic tale of a +woodland disaster. "I can't blame you for feeling as you do," she said, +"but I must keep my word to her father. It means so much to him. Being +in the operetta has given her a little start. Perhaps she's begun to see +that it pays to do well. She knows now how it feels to be treated badly. +It must remind her of some of the mean things she's done. If she's ever +going to change, the time has come. But if no one believes in her, then +she'll get discouraged and be worse than ever. Connie is willing to +help. I'd be ashamed to refuse after that. Even Jerry says she'll +consider it." + +"Connie is a perfect angel, and Jerry is a goose," declared Muriel, +flushing rather guiltily. It was difficult to continue to combat +Marjorie's plan in the face of Constance's nobility of spirit. Constance +had been the chief sufferer at Mignon's hands. Reminded of this, Muriel +weakened. "I suppose I ought to get in line with Connie," she admitted. +"I'd feel pretty small if I didn't. I can't afford to let Jerry beat me, +either." + +Muriel's objections thus overruled, Susan proved less hard to convince. +Once more the reform party banded itself together to the performance of +good works. Smarting from the effects of Rowena's cowardly spite, Mignon +was quite willing to be taken up again by so important a set of girls as +that to which Marjorie belonged. It pleased her not a little to know +that she had gained a foothold that Rowena could never hope to win. +Then, too, her father had taken a hand in her affairs. He had sternly +informed her that she must about-face and do better. Relief at being +plucked from a disagreeable situation, rather than gratitude toward her +preservers, had predominated her feelings on the eventful night at +Riverview. Fear of her father's threat to send her away to a convent +school if she did not show rapid signs of improvement made her pause. + +Returning from his business trip, Mr. La Salle had interviewed first +William, the chauffeur, then Mignon. From an indulgent parent he became +suddenly transformed into a stern inquisitor, before whose wrath Mignon +broke down and haltingly confessed the truth. As a result he had +forbidden her further acquaintance with Rowena. Reminded afresh of his +parental duty, he had pondered long, then through the kindly offices of +Mr. Dean, arranged the meeting with Marjorie. Thus Mignon's affairs had +been readjusted and she had been forced to agree to follow the line of +good conduct he had stretched for her. + +It was a distinct relief, however, to Marjorie and her friends to find +that Mignon was content to be merely on equitable terms. She did not try +to force herself upon them, though she received whatever advances they +made with an amiability quite unusual to her. They were immensely +amused, however, at her frigid ignoring of Rowena Farnham. Her revenge +consummated, Rowena decided to re-assume her sway over her unwilling +follower. Mignon fiercely declined to be reinstated and the two held a +battle royal in which words became sharpest arrows. Later, Rowena was +plunged into fresh rage by the news that Mignon had been taken up by the +very girls she had over and over again disparaged. + +Determined not to be beaten, she continued to waylay Mignon as she went +to and from school. Changing her bullying tactics, she next tried +coaxing. But Mignon maintained her air of virtuous frigidity and took an +especial delight in snubbing the girl she had once feared. It also gave +her infinite pleasure to paint Rowena in exceedingly dark colors to +whomever would listen to her grievances. Much of this came in +round-about fashion to the reformers. They disapproved of it intensely, +but held their peace rather than undo the little good they hoped they +had already accomplished. + +Among her schoolmates the account of Mignon's near misfortune was +received with varying degrees of interest. A few were sympathetically +disposed; others merely laughed. Rowena, however, lost caste. Neither +her costly clothes, her caustic wit nor her impudently fascinating +personality could cover the fact that she had done a treacherous and +contemptible deed. The fact that she had left a young girl stranded at +midnight in a strange town did not add to her doubtful popularity. Quick +to discover this state of affairs, she realized that she had gone a step +too far. There was only one way in which she might redeem herself and +that lay in the direction of basket ball. + +February was speedily living out his short, changeable life. The third +of the four games between the sophomore-junior teams was to be played on +the last Saturday afternoon of the month, which fell on the +twenty-seventh. Thus far each side had won a game. Rowena decreed that +the two games yet to be played should go to the sophomores. She would +play as she had never played before. Nothing should stand in her way. +She would lead the sophomores on to glory and the acclamation of her +class would cleanse her blurred escutcheon. Once she had re-established +her power she would make Mignon sorry. + + Fortunately for her plans, the members of her team had showed no great +amount of prejudice against her since the affair of the operetta. They +treated her cordially enough during practice and applauded her clever +playing. Shrewd to a degree, she divined instantly that they cherished +no special regard for her. They were simply using her as a means to the +end. Knowing her value as a player, they were egging her on to do well +because of their hope of victory in the next two games. She did not +doubt that when the season was over there would be a general falling-off +in their cordiality unless she so greatly distinguished herself as to +win their ungrudging admiration. + +Alas for her dream of power, when the third game came off between the +two teams, it was the juniors who carried off the palm with a score of +26-14 in their favor. What galled her most was the remarkably brilliant +playing of Marjorie Dean. If there lingered a doubt in the mind of Miss +Davis regarding Marjorie's ability to play basket ball, her work on the +floor that Saturday afternoon must have completely discounted that +doubt. What Miss Davis thought when, from the gallery, she watched the +clever playing of the girl she had endeavored to dismiss from the team, +was something which was recorded only on her own brain. It was noted by +several pairs of watchful eyes that she did not applaud the victors. She +had not forgiven them for the difficulties into which they had plunged +her on that fateful afternoon. + +Losing the game to the enemy made matters distinctly mortifying for +Rowena. Among themselves, her team-mates gloomily conceded that they had +over-rated her as a player. Though they made some effort to conceal +their resentment, their cordiality became less apparent. This second +defeat precluded all hope of doing more than tieing the score in the one +game still to be played. They needed Rowena's help to bring about that +result. Therefore, they dared not express themselves openly. It may be +recorded here that the ideals of the four sophomore players were no +higher than those of Rowena. Their attitude toward her was glaringly +selfish and they were possessed of little loyalty. + +The final game was set for the thirteenth of March. Doggedly bent on +escaping a whitewashing, the sophomores devoted themselves to zealous +practice. So insistently frequent were their demands for the use of the +gymnasium that the junior team were obliged to make equally insistent +protest against their encroachment. + +"I am really glad that this next game is to be the last," remarked +Marjorie to her teammates one afternoon as they were preparing to leave +the dressing room after practice. "Basket ball hasn't seemed the same +old game this year. Perhaps I'm outgrowing my liking for it, but really +we've had so much trouble about it that I long for victory and peace." + +"It's not the game," contested Muriel. "It's those sophs with Rowena +Farnham leading them on. Why, even when Mignon was continually fussing +with us we never had any trouble about getting the gym for practice. Oh, +well, one week from to-morrow will tell the story. If we win it will be +a three to one victory. We can't lose now. All the sophs can do is to +tie the score." + +"Where were our subs to-day?" demanded Daisy Griggs. "I didn't see +either of them." + +"Harriet couldn't stay for practice. She was going to a tea with her +mother," informed Susan. "I don't know where Lucy Warner was. I didn't +see her in school, either." + +"She must be sick. She hasn't been in school for almost a week," +commented Muriel. "She is the queerest-acting girl. You'd think to look +at her that she hated herself and everybody. She makes me think of a +picture of an anarchist I once saw in a newspaper. When she does come to +practice she just sits with her chin in her hands and glowers. I can't +understand how she ever happened to come out of her grouch long enough +to make the team." + +"She's awfully distant," agreed Marjorie dispiritedly. "I have tried to +be nice to her, but it's no use. My, how the wind howls! Listen." Going +to the window of the dressing room, she peered out. "It's a dreadful +day. The walks are solid sheets of ice. The wind blew so hard I could +scarcely keep on my feet this noon." + +"I fell down twice," giggled Susan Atwell. "It didn't hurt me much. I +scraped one hand on a piece of sharp ice, but I'm still alive." + +"Be careful going down the steps," warned Daisy Griggs, ever a youthful +calamity howler. + +"Don't croak, Daisy. If you keep on someone will take a tumble just +because you mentioned it," laughed Muriel. "We can't afford that with +the game so near." + +Dressed at last, their paraphernalia carefully stowed away, the team +trooped from the gymnasium and on to their locker room. "I wish I had +worn my fur coat," lamented Muriel. "I'll surely freeze in my tracks. +Are you ready, girls? Do hurry. I am anxious to face the wind and get it +over with. I think I'll take the car home." + +"Ugh!" shuddered Susan. Issuing from the high school building a blast of +piercing air struck her full in the face. "We'll be blown away before we +get down the steps." + +"Oh, come along, Susie," urged Muriel laughingly. "Don't mind a little +thing like that. Look at me. Here goes." Muriel valiantly essayed the +first icy step. A fresh gust of wind assailing her, the hand holding her +muff sought her face to protect it. + +How it happened no one quite knew. A concerted scream went up from four +throats as Muriel suddenly left her feet to go bumping and sliding down +the long flight of ice-bound steps. She struck the walk in a heap and +lay still. + +"Muriel!" Forgetting the peril of the steps, Marjorie took them +heedlessly, but safely. A faint moan issued from Muriel's lips as she +knelt beside her. Muriel moaned again, but tried to raise herself to a +sitting posture. She fell back with a fresh groan. + +"Where are you hurt?" Marjorie slipped a supporting arm under her. By +this time the others had safely made the descent and were gathered about +the two. + +"It's my right shoulder and arm. I'm afraid my arm is broken," gasped +Muriel, her face white with pain. + +"Let me see." Marjorie tenderly felt of the injured member. "Do I hurt +you much?" she quavered solicitously. + +"Not--much. I guess it's--not--broken. It's my shoulder that hurts most." + +Several persons had now gathered to the scene. A man driving past in an +automobile halted his car. Leaping from the machine he ran to the scene. +"Someone hurt?" was his crisp question. "Can I be of service?" + +"Oh, if you would." Marjorie's face brightened. "Miss Harding fell down +those steps. She's badly hurt." + +"Where does she live? I'll take her home," offered the kindly motorist. +Lifting Muriel in his arms he carried her to the car and gently +deposited her in its tonneau. "Perhaps you'd better come with her," he +suggested. + +"Thank you, I will. Good-bye, girls. Go on over to my house and wait for +me. I'll be there in a little while." Lifting her hand to the three +frightened girls, who had advanced upon the machine with sundry other +curious pedestrians, Marjorie gave Muriel's rescuer the Hardings' +address, climbed into the car and slammed the door shut. + +"Poor Muriel," wailed Daisy Griggs, as the car rolled away. "I told her +to be careful. I hope she isn't hurt much. And the game next week!" + +Three pairs of startled eyes met and conveyed the same dismaying +thought. What would the team do without Captain Muriel? + + + + +CHAPTER XXV--A STRENUOUS HIKE TO A TRYING ENGAGEMENT + + +Everybody knows the trite saying: "It never rains but that it pours." +The disasters of the following week seemed quite in accord with it. +Muriel's spectacular slide down the ice steps brought her a broken +collarbone. The three anxious girls had awaited news of Muriel at +Marjorie's home had hardly taken their leave when the ring of the +postman brought her fresh misery. Little knowing what he did, that +patient individual handed Marjorie a letter which filled her with angry +consternation. Why in the world had the hated Observer come to life +again at such a time? + +Without waiting to read the unwelcome epistle in her Captain's presence, +Marjorie ripped open the envelope with a savage hand. This time the +unknown was detestably brief, writing merely: + + "Miss Dean: + + "I hope you lose the game next Saturday. You are more of a snob than + ever. Defeat will do you good. Prepare to meet it. + + "The Observer." + +"Oh!" Marjorie dashed the offending letter to the floor. Muriel's +accident was bad enough. It had not needed this to complete her +dejection. Recapturing the spiteful message she was about to tear it +into bits. On second reflection she decided to keep it and add it to her +obnoxious collection. Something whispered to her that the identity of +the tormenting Observer would yet be revealed to her. + +Facing the lamentable knowledge that Muriel must be counted out of the +coming contest, Harriet replaced her. This in itself provided a grain of +comfort. Harriet was a skilful player and would work for the success of +the team with all her energy. The other four players congratulated +themselves on thus having such able support. Due to Muriel's absence, +Marjorie had been asked to assume temporary captainship. Her mind now at +ease by reason of Harriet's good work, she gave her most conscientious +attention to practice. + +Matters skimmed along with commendable smoothness until the Wednesday +before the game. Then she encountered a fresh set-back. Word came to her +that Susan Atwell had succumbed to the dreaded tonsilitis that all +through the winter had been going its deadly round in Sanford. On +receipt of the news she recalled that for the past two days Susan had +complained of sore throat. She had given it no serious thought, however. +Her own throat had also troubled her a trifle since that stormy day when +Muriel had come to grief. There was but one thing to do. Put Lucy Warner +in Susan's position. Her heart almost skipped a beat as she faced the +fact that Lucy, too, had been absent from school for over a week. +Someone had said that Lucy was also ill. Marjorie reproached herself for +not having inquired more closely about the peculiar green-eyed junior. +"I ought to have gone to see her," she reflected. "I'll go to-night. +Perhaps she is almost well by this time, and can come back to school in +time for the game. If she can't, then I'd better ask Mignon to play in +Susan's place." + +School over for the day she accosted Jerry and Irma with, "I can only +walk as far as the corner with you to-night. I'm going to see Lucy +Warner. She's been sick for over a week. Did you ever hear of such bad +luck as the team has been having lately? I feel so discouraged and tired +out. I don't believe I'll try for the team next year." Marjorie's +usually sprightliness was entirely missing. Her voice had taken on a +weary tone and her brown eyes had lost their pretty sparkle. + +"You'd better go straight home and take care of _yourself_," gruffly +advised Jerry, "or you won't be fit to play on the team Saturday." + +"Oh, I'm all right." Marjorie made an attempt to look cheerful. "I'm not +feeling ill. My throat is a little bit sore. I caught cold that day +Muriel fell down the steps. But it's nothing serious. I shall go to bed +at eight o'clock to-night and have a long sleep. I'm just tired; not +sick. I must leave you here. Good-bye. See you to-morrow." Nodding +brightly she left the two and turned down a side street. + +"See us to-morrow," sniffed Jerry. "Humph! I doubt it, unless we go to +her house. She's about half sick now. It's the first time I ever saw her +look that way. She's so brave, though. She'd fight to keep up if she +were dying." + +Meanwhile, as she plodded down the snowy street on her errand of mercy, +Marjorie was, indeed, fighting to make herself believe that she was +merely a little tired. Despite her languor, generosity prompted her to +stop in passing a fruit store and purchase an attractive basket filled +with various fruits likely to tempt the appetite of a sick person. She +wondered if Lucy would resent the offering. She was such a queer, +self-contained little creature. + +"What a dingy house!" was her thought, as she floundered her way through +a stretch of deep snow to Lucy's unpretentious home. Detached from its +neighbors, it stood unfenced, facing a bit of field, which the small +boys of Sanford used in summer as a ball ground. It was across this +field that Marjorie was obliged to wend a course made difficult by a +week's fall of snow that blanketed it. An irregular path made by the +passing and repassing of someone's feet led up to the door. It appeared +that the Warners were either too busy or else unable to clear their +walk. + +Finding no bell, Marjorie removed her glove and knocked on the +weather-stained front door. It was opened by a frail little woman with a +white, tired face and faded blue eyes. She stared in amazement at the +trim, fur-coated girl before her, whose attractive appearance betokened +affluence. "How do you do?" she greeted in evident embarrassment. + +"Good afternoon. Are you Mrs. Warner?" Marjorie asked brightly. "I have +come to see Lucy. How is she to-day? I am Marjorie Dean." + +"Oh, are you Miss Dean? I mailed a letter she wrote you several days +ago. Come in, please," invited the woman cordially. "I am very glad to +see you. I am sure Lucy will be. She is better but still in bed. Will +you take off your wraps?" + +"No, thank you. I can't stay very long. I feel guilty at not coming to +see her sooner. What is the trouble with her--tonsilitis? So many people +in Sanford are having it." Marjorie looked slightly mystified over Mrs. +Warner's reference to the letter. She had received no letter from Lucy. +She decided, however, that she would ask Lucy. + +"No; she was threatened with pneumonia, but managed to escape with a +severe cold. I will take you to her. She is upstairs." + +Following Mrs. Warner up a narrow stairway that led up from a bare, +cheerless sitting room, Marjorie was forced to contrast the dismal place +with the Deans' luxurious living room. Why was it, she sadly pondered, +that she had been given so much and Lucy so little? The Warners' home +was even more poverty-stricken than the little gray house in which +Constance Stevens had once lived. Then she had deplored that same +contrast between herself and Constance. + +"Miss Dean has come to see you, Lucy," said Mrs. Warner. Marjorie had +followed the woman into a plain little bedroom, equally bare and +desolate. + +"You!" Glimpsing Marjorie behind her mother, Lucy sat up in bed, her +green eyes growing greener with horrified disapproval. + +"Yes, I." Marjorie flushed as she strove to answer playfully. That +single unfriendly word of greeting had wounded her deeply. The very fact +that, half sick herself, she had waded through the snow to call on Lucy +gave her a fleeting sense of injury. She tried to hide it by quickly +saying: "I must apologize for not visiting you sooner. Our team has had +so many mishaps, I have been busy trying to keep things going. I brought +you some fruit to cheer you up." + +"I will leave you girls to yourselves," broke in Mrs. Warner. As she +went downstairs she wondered at her daughter's ungracious behavior to +this lovely young friend. Lucy was such a strange child. Even she could +not always fathom her odd ways. + +"Why have you come to see me?" demanded Lucy, hostile and inhospitable. +All the time her lambent green eyes remained fixed upon Marjorie. + +"Why shouldn't I come to see you?" Marjorie gave a nervous little laugh. +Privately she wished she had not come. Embarrassment at the unfriendly +reception drove the question of the letter from her mind. + +"You never noticed me in school," pursued Lucy relentlessly. "Why should +you now?" + +"You would never let me be friends with you," was Marjorie's honest +retort. "I've tried ever so many times. I have always admired you. You +are so bright and make such brilliant recitations." + +"What does that matter when one is poor and always out of things?" came +the bitter question. + +"Oh, being poor doesn't count. It's the real you that makes the +difference. When I was a little girl we were quite poor. We aren't rich +now; just in comfortable circumstances. If I chose my friends for their +money I'd be a very contemptible person. You mustn't look at matters in +that light. It's wrong. It shuts you away from all the best things in +life; like love and friendship and contentment. I wish you had said this +to me long ago. Then we would have understood each other and been +friends." + +"I can never be your friend," stated the girl solemnly. + +"Why not?" Marjorie's eyes widened. "Perhaps I ought not to ask you +that. It sounded conceited. I can't blame you if you don't like me. +There are many persons I can't like, either. Sometimes I try to like +them, but I seldom succeed," she made frank admission. + +"You are a puzzling girl," asserted Lucy, her green eyes wavering under +Marjorie's sweetly naive confession. "Either you are very deceitful, or +else I have made a terrible mistake." She suddenly lay back in bed, half +hiding her brown head in the pillow. + +"I would rather think that you had made a mistake." The rose in +Marjorie's cheeks deepened. "I try never to be deceitful." + +Lucy did not reply, but buried her face deeper in the pillow. An +oppressive silence ensued, during which Marjorie racked her brain as to +what she had best say next. What ailed Lucy? She was even queerer than +Marjorie had supposed. + +With a convulsive jerk Lucy suddenly sat upright. Marjorie was relieved +to observe no indication of tears in the probing green eyes. She had +feared Lucy might be crying. Why she should cry was a mystery, however. + +"If you had made a mistake about someone and then done a perfectly +dreadful thing and afterward found out that it was all a mistake, what +would you do?" Lucy queried with nervous intensity. + +"I--that's a hard question to answer. It would depend a good deal on what +I had done and who the person was." + +"But if the person didn't know that it was you who did it, would you +tell them?" continued Lucy. + +"If I had hurt them very much, I think my conscience would torment me +until I did," Marjorie said slowly. "It would be hard, of course, but it +would be exactly what I deserved. But why do you ask me such strange +things?" + +"Because I must know. I've done something wrong and I've got to face it. +I've just found out that I have a very lively conscience. What you said +is true. I deserve to suffer. I am the Observer." Lucy dropped back on +her pillow, her long, black lashes veiling her peculiarly colored eyes. + +Undiluted amazement tied Marjorie's tongue. Staring at the pitifully +white, small face against the pillow, she came into a flashing, +emotional knowledge of the embittered spirit that had prompted the +writing of those vexatious letters. "You poor little thing!" she cried +out compassionately. The next instant her soft hands held one of Lucy's +in a caressing clasp. + +Lucy's heavy lids lifted. "I don't wonder your friends love you," she +said somberly. Her free hand came to rest lightly on Marjorie's arm. "I +know now that I could have been your friend, too." + +"But you shall be from this minute on," Marjorie replied, her pretty +face divinely tender. "You've proved your right to be. It was brave in +you to tell me. If you hadn't been the right sort of girl you might have +decided to like me and kept what you told me to yourself. I would never +have known the difference. I am glad that I do know. It takes away the +shadow. I understand that you must have suffered a great deal. I blame +myself, too. I'm afraid I've thought too much about my own pleasure and +seemed snobbish." + +"I wouldn't have done it, only one Sunday when you were walking along +with that Miss Macy and that girl who used to live at your house, I met +you and you didn't speak to me. All three of you were dressed +beautifully. It made me feel so bad. I was wearing an old gray suit, and +I thought you cut me on account of my clothes. I know now that I was +wrong. That was the beginning of the mistake. Then when you girls had +those expensive basket ball suits made, I thought you chose them just to +be mean to me. Of course, I didn't expect to be invited to your parties, +but it hurt me to be passed by all the time in school." + +"I never saw you that day, and I'm sure we never thought about how it +might look to others when we ordered our suits. You've taught me a +lesson, Lucy. One ought to be made careful about such things in a large +school. Someone is sure to be made unhappy. Now we must put all the bad +things away for good and think only of the nice ones. When you get well +you are going to have some good times with me. My friends will like you, +too. No one must ever know about--well, about the mistake." + +But Lucy could not thus easily take things for granted. Remorse had set +in and she felt that she ought to be punished for her fault. After +considerable cheerful persuasion, Marjorie brought her into an easier +frame of mind. When finally she said good-bye she left behind her a most +humble Observer who had given her word thereafter to observe life from a +happier angle. + +Once away from the house a feeling of heavy lassitude overwhelmed the +patient Lieutenant. It had been a strenuous hike to a trying engagement. +Her head swam dizzily as she stumbled through the drifted field to +better walking. Her wet shoes and stockings added to her misery. How her +cheeks burned and how dreadfully her throat ached! Was Jerry's +prediction about to be fulfilled? Was she only tired out, or had actual +sickness descended upon her just when she needed most to be well? + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI--"TURN ABOUT is FAIR PLAY" + + +"What did I tell you yesterday?" saluted Jerry Macy, the instant she +found opportunity to address Irma Linton the next morning. "Marjorie's +sick. Her mother telephoned me before I started for school. She came +from Lucy Warner's yesterday so sick she couldn't see straight. Her +mother put her to bed and sent for the doctor. She has tonsilitis. Isn't +that hard luck?" + +"I should say so. Poor Marjorie. I was afraid of that yesterday. You +know she said her throat was sore." Irma looked unutterably sympathetic. +"And the game on Saturday, too. But it can't be played with Marjorie, +Muriel and Susan all laid up. That leaves only Rita, Daisy and Harriet +on the team." + +"The sophomores will have to call it off," decreed Jerry. "It's only +fair. The juniors did that very thing when two of the sophs were sick." + +"You'd better see Ellen this noon or before, if you can, and tell her," +Irma advised. "Then she can break it to the sophs to-day." + +"I'm going to wait for her in the senior locker room this noon," nodded +Jerry. "Then she can post a notice at once. Now I must beat it for Caesar +recitation. I wished he'd been killed in his first battle. It would have +saved me a good deal of bother." Jerry's jolly chuckle belied her +vengeful comment on the valorous general. + +"You don't say so!" exclaimed Ellen when Jerry broke the news to her. +"That _is_ too bad. Certainly the game will have to be postponed. I'll +write a notice instantly asking the sophs to meet me in the gym at four +this afternoon. I must call up on the 'phone and inquire for Marjorie. +Dear little girl, I wish I could do a great deal more for her. Thank you +for telling me, Jerry." Ellen hurried off to write and then post the +notice before going home to luncheon. Her lips wore a quizzical smile. +She wondered what the sophomore team would say when she told them. + +She had just finished tucking it into the bulletin board when Nellie +Simmons, a member of the sophomore team, paused curiously to read it. +The very fact that it came from Ellen's hands indicated basket ball +news. "Hmm!" she ejaculated as she took in its contents. "What's the +matter now?" + +"I'll tell you at four o'clock," Ellen flashed back. With a slight lift +of her shoulders, she walked away. Nellie's tone had verged on the +insolent. She had hardly disappeared when Nellie faced about and hurried +toward the sophomore locker room, bumping smartly against Rowena +Farnham, who was in the act of leaving it. + +"Look out!" cried Rowena. "What are you trying to do? I'm not made of +iron." + +"Oh, Rowena, I was hurrying to find you!" exclaimed Nellie. "Ellen +Seymour just posted a notice on the bulletin board for the team to meet +her in the gym at four o'clock. I think I know what it's about. Marjorie +Dean is sick. I heard Jerry Macy tell Esther Lind. You know what that +means to the junior team, with two others away from it. I'm sure Ellen's +going to ask us to postpone the game." + +"I'll forgive you for almost knocking me down," laughed Rowena, her +black eyes glowing. "So Miss Seymour thinks we will postpone the game to +please her and that goody-goody Dean girl. I'll see that she gets a +surprise. Lucky you came to me. I can fix things before I go home to +luncheon. I'm going to have a talk with Miss Davis." + +Leaving Nellie plunged in admiration at her daring tactics, Rowena sped +up the basement stairs and down the corridor toward Miss Davis's tiny +office. "How are you, Miss Davis?" was her offhand greeting. "I've come +to you for help." + +Miss Davis viewed her visitor with mild disapproval. "I don't care to +implicate myself in any more of your tangles, Rowena," she declared +firmly. + +"Oh, this isn't entirely my affair. It's about basket ball, though. That +Dean girl is sick and Miss Seymour is going to ask us to postpone the +game just on her account. Of course, we'll say 'no,' but Miss Seymour +won't mind that unless you stand by us. It's pure favoritism. Miss +Harding and Miss Atwell are sick, too. Even so, there are three of the +team left. If you say the game must go on, it will give poor Mignon a +chance to sub in the Dean girl's place. That Esther Lind played on the +sophomore team last year. She could fill the other position and we could +have the game. Miss Seymour knows that, but she won't pay any attention +to it. Mignon ought to have been chosen in the first place. You owe it +to her to do this for her. Besides, it will give you a good chance to +even things with the Seymour-Dean combination." + +"I don't like your tone, Rowena. It's hardly respectful. As a teacher I +have no desire to 'even things,' as you express it." Miss Davis's +censure did not ring true. She knew that this domineering girl had no +illusions concerning her dignity of position. + +Rowena merely smiled in the bold, cheerful fashion that she always +adopted and which passed for real good humor. She did not take Miss +Davis at her word. "Think it over," she advised. "You know you detest +favoritism." She was well aware that Miss Davis deplored it, only to +practise it as regarded herself and Mignon. Mignon in particular had +always ranked high in her favor. + +To have heard Rowena thus pleading her cause would have astonished +Mignon not a little. It was by this very means that Rowena proposed to +seek her and win back the French girl's allegiance. Without her +companionship, school had become very tame for lawless Rowena. + +"When is this meeting to take place?" asked Miss Davis with +well-simulated indifference. + +"At four o'clock." Rowena thrilled with triumph. She knew she had gained +her point. + +"I may attend it," was the teacher's vague promise. + +"Thank you. I hope for Mignon's sake you'll be there." With this sly +reminder Rowena set off, determining to waylay Mignon on her walk back +from luncheon. Not troubling to go home that noon, Rowena swallowed a +hasty luncheon at a nearby delicatessen shop and posted herself at a +corner, which Mignon was due to pass. + +"Wait a minute, Mignon," she hailed, as the latter was about to pass her +by with a haughty toss of her head. "You must listen to me. I've just +fixed it for you to play on the junior team Saturday." + +Astounded by this remarkable statement, Mignon halted. Rowena had +guessed that she would. "I don't understand you," she said haughtily. + +"Yes, you do," assured Rowena blithely. "Three of the juniors are sick. +I just asked Miss Davis to let you help out. She is going to see Miss +Seymour about it this afternoon. All you have to do is to keep still +until you're asked to play, then say 'yes.' Now do you believe I'm your +friend?" she concluded in triumph. + +Mignon's inimitable shrug went into play. "You are very kind," she +returned with a trace of sarcasm. "It's about time you did something to +make up for all the trouble you caused me." + +"That's just it." Rowena clutched at this providential straw, which +Mignon had unwittingly cast to her. "I _am_ trying to make it up to you. +I won't bother you any more now. But I hope----" she paused significantly. + +"You may walk to school with me," graciously permitted Mignon. The old +fascination of Rowena's lawlessness was beginning to steal over her. + +"Thank you." Rowena spoke humbly. Inwardly she was jubilant. She was +obliged to endure these stupid persons, but they were all her pawns, +willed to move about at her dictation. + +After she had left Rowena in the corridor, Mignon indulged in sober +speculation. There was more to the affair than appeared on the surface. +Formerly she would have entered into it with avidity. Now she was bound +to respect her father's mandate or be packed off to a convent school. +She alone knew positively that recent association with Marjorie and her +chums had not changed her. But she must make a pretense at keeping up an +appearance of amiable docility. Rowena's words still sounded in her ears +like a clarion call to battle. But she was resolved to do nothing rash. +She would wait and see before accepting the chance to play on the junior +team. It was lucky that she need not lend her presence to the meeting +that afternoon. + +When at four o'clock Ellen Seymour put the matter of postponement to +five impassive-faced girls, she was not greatly surprised to listen to +their unanimous refusal to consider the proposal. One and all they +stolidly set themselves against it. + +"You forget that the juniors treated you very nicely when your team met +with misfortune," reminded Ellen gravely. She had vowed within herself +that she would not lose her temper. + +This reminder brought stubborn replies of, "That was different," and +"They have plenty of equally good players to draw from." + +In the midst of the discussion, Miss Davis appeared on the scene. Ellen +understood only too well what that meant. "What seems to be the matter +here?" she asked. "Are you discussing the question of postponing the +game?" + +Rowena cast a sidelong glance of triumph toward Nellie Simmons, which +said: "What did I tell you?" + +"We are," was Ellen's crisp return. "The game must be postponed." + +It was an unlucky speech on Ellen's part. Miss Davis had entered the +gymnasium only half decided upon championing Rowena's cause. The cool +decision in the senior's tones angered her. "I hardly think that will be +necessary," she retorted. "Three of the juniors are ready to play. Miss +La Salle and Miss Lind can substitute for the others. The game will go +forward on Saturday." + +"That is absolutely unfair," cried Ellen. "The juniors were extremely +lenient with----" + +"That will do." Miss Davis held up an authoritative hand. "Another word +and I will report you to Miss Archer. Then there will be _no_ game on +Saturday." + +Ellen did not answer this threat. Her head erect, color high, she walked +from the gymnasium and straight to Miss Archer's office. _She_ had not +threatened. She intended to act and act quickly. + +"Miss Archer, I have something important to say to you," she burst forth +on entering the principal's office. + +"Sit down, Ellen. I am sure it must be. Don't tell me it is basket +ball!" Miss Archer's lips tightened. + +"But it is." Impetuously, Ellen poured forth her story. When she had +finished, Miss Archer's face was not good to see. + +"I'll attend to this, Ellen. You did right to come to me. There will be +no game on Saturday." + +The following morning five girls received a summons to the principal's +office that put fear into their hearts. When, one by one, they appeared, +she motioned them to be seated until the last one had completed the line +on the oak bench. Swinging in her chair, she faced them with: "There is +an old saying, girls, 'Turn about is fair play.' Since you seem to have +forgotten it, I am forced to remind you. I understand that you asked the +juniors to postpone the first basket ball game of the season, due to the +fact that your team was temporarily incapacitated. They did so. That in +itself points to an adherence to fair play. Very well. Now there comes a +time when the situation reverses itself. Having proved themselves +honorable, the juniors have called for a like demonstration of honor on +the part of the sophomores. You know best what has happened. You have +shown yourselves not only grossly ungrateful, but unfit to be trusted. +No one enjoys dealing with ingrates. One understands precisely what one +may expect from such persons. + +"During the year I have not been pleased with the various reports which +have been brought to me concerning sophomore and junior basket ball; +particularly sophomore basket ball. It is not long since I was obliged +to interfere with sophomore methods. At that time I stated that a +repetition of such unfair tactics would result in the stoppage of the +game for the rest of the year. I now declare the sophomore and junior +teams disbanded. There will be no more games between them this year. I +have just one thing further to say. It is unfortunate that the innocent +should be obliged to suffer with the guilty. You are dismissed." + +A wavering breath of dismay passed along the row of girls as Miss Archer +pronounced sentence upon them. Their own treachery had proved a +boomerang. Dejection laid heavy hand upon four of them, as with downcast +eyes they rose and quitted the place of judgment. But the fifth member +of the disbanded team was not thus so easily dismissed. Far from +disheartened, Rowena Farnham sprang forward, hands clenched at her +sides, her face an angry flame. + +"Who are you that you dare talk of unfairness?" In her devouring rage +she fairly screamed the question. "You have disbanded the team just to +please that smug-faced, priggish Marjorie Dean. You are not fit to have +charge over a school of girls. I am ashamed to be under the same roof +with you. I shall ask my father----" + +"It strikes me that it is I who should inform your father of your +outrageous behavior to me," interrupted Miss Archer in a stern voice. "I +hardly believe that he would countenance such impudence on your part to +one in authority over you. You may go home and remain away from school +until I send for you. I shall insist on an interview with your father at +the earliest possible moment in order to decide what is to be done with +you." + +"You won't have to insist on seeing him," sneered Rowena. "He will call +on you this afternoon. My father won't see me abused by you. He will use +his influence with the Board of Education. Then _you_ won't be principal +of Sanford High School." With this furious prediction of downfall Rowena +flung herself out of the office, confident that she had delivered a +telling thrust. Not daring to return to the study hall she sped to the +locker room, hastily seized her wraps and departed for her father's +office in high dudgeon. + +The brilliantly-colored account of Miss Archer's misdeeds which she +poured into the ears of her too-credulous father sent him on the trail +of the offending principal with fury in his eye. Less than an hour after +Rowena had made her sensational exit, a very tall, red-haired, red-faced +man stalked into Miss Archer's office with the air of a blood-thirsty +warrior. + +"Madam," he thundered, omitting polite preliminaries, "I am Mr. Farnham +and I wish you to understand most emphatically that you cannot criticize +my methods of bringing up my daughter. Though she may need occasional +mild discipline it is extreme bad taste in you to cast unjust +reflections upon her parents." + +"I was not aware that I had done so." Miss Archer had risen to confront +the slandered (?) parent. She met his angry gaze unflinchingly. "I had +intended to send for you, however. Now that you are here we may as well +settle matters at once. Your daughter----" + +"My daughter has been shamefully abused," cut in Mr. Farnham +majestically. "I regret that I ever allowed her to enter a public +school. I shall remove her at once from it. The contaminating +influence----" + +It was Miss Archer's turn to interrupt in clear, cutting speech. "Allow +me to amend your last statement to _her_ contaminating influence. Your +daughter is a trouble-maker. I have borne very patiently with her. I +cannot regret your decision to remove her from Sanford High School. It +simplifies matters immeasurably." + +Miss Archer's quiet, but intense utterance sent an unbidden thrill of +consternation over the irate man. His blustering manner had not +intimidated this regal, calm-featured woman. He experienced a sudden +sense of defeat. Fearful lest he might reveal it, he cut his call short +with, "My daughter will not return to school. Good morning." + +Miss Archer bowed him out, feeling sorry rather than displeased with the +big, blustering man whom fatherly love had blinded to his daughter's +faults. She wondered when, if ever, his eyes would be opened. Under what +circumstances would he awaken to full knowledge of the real Rowena? + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII--THE FIRST DUTY OF A SOLDIER + + +"And we can have the party in her room? Oh, fine! You're awfully dear, +Mrs. Dean. We'll be there at two this afternoon. Good-bye." Jerry Macy +hung up the telephone receiver and did an energetic dance about the +hall. + +"Training for the Russian Ballet?" asked Hal, as, emerging from the +breakfast room, he beheld Jerry in the midst of her weird dance. + +"No, you goose. I'm doing a dance of rejoicing. Marjorie's well enough +to see us. We are going to have a party for her this afternoon." + +"You are a lovely girl, Jerry, and you dance beautifully." Hal became +suddenly ingratiating. "Am I invited to the party?" + +"Certainly not. It's an exclusive affair; no boys allowed. You may send +Marjorie some flowers, though. You've only sent them twice this week." + +"I'll do it. What time is the party?" + +"Two o'clock. Get them at Braley's. That's the nicest place." Jerry was +obliged to shout this last after Hal, as, seizing his cap and coat, he +raced out the front door. + +Over two weeks had elapsed since the Thursday morning which had marked +the downfall of basket ball. During that time, Marjorie had lain in her +dainty pink-and-white bed, impatiently wondering if she were ever going +to get well. But one thing had helped to make her trying illness +endurable. Never before had she realized that she had so many friends. +Her pretty "house" looked like a florist's shop and her willow table was +piled with offerings of fruit and confectionery sent her by her devoted +followers. Every day the mail brought her relays of cheery letters, the +burden of which was invariably, "You must hurry and get well." + +And now the day of convalescence had dawned. She was able not only to +sit up, but to take brief strolls about her room. Her faithful Captain +had just brought her word that Jerry and the girls would be with her +that afternoon. What a lot they would have to talk about! Marjorie lay +luxuriously back among her pillows and smilingly patted a fat letter +from Mary Raymond. "How I wish you could be here, too, Lieutenant," she +murmured. "We need you to help us with our good time. Connie's coming +over early to help Captain dress me in my wonderful new pink negligee. +It has ruffles and ruffles. I wish you could see it, Mary." + +"_You_ are only playing invalid," laughingly accused Constance Stevens. +It was a little after one o'clock. She and Mrs. Dean had just finished +arraying Marjorie in the half-fitted pink silk negligee that had been +one of Captain's cheer-up gifts to her. "I never before saw you look so +pretty, Marjorie," she declared, as she stepped back to view the effect. +"You ought always to wear your hair down your back in long curls." + +"Just imagine how I'd look. And I so nearly a senior, too. Connie, do +you suppose Mignon will come to my party?" Marjorie asked with sudden +irrelevance. + +"When I invited her to it she said she'd come," returned Constance. "You +can't tell much about her, though. The day before Miss Archer forbade +basket ball I saw Rowena stop her and walk into school with her. I +thought it rather queer. She had said so much against Rowena after that +night at Riverview." + +"She is a strange girl," mused Marjorie. "I am not very sorry that +Rowena Farnham has left high school. Judging from what you just said, it +wouldn't have been long until they grew chummy again. Rowena would have +found a way to win Mignon over to her." + +In making this prediction Marjorie had spoken more accurately than she +knew. Emboldened by her success in once more attracting Mignon's +attention to herself, Rowena had planned to follow that move with others +equally strategic. But before she had found opportunity for a second +interview, basket ball had been doomed and she had ceased to be a pupil +of Sanford High. + +Being among the first to get wind of Miss Archer's decree and Rowena's +exodus from school, Mignon secretly rejoiced in the thought that she had +not been implicated in the affair. She had fully made up her mind to +accept the invitation to play on the junior team, were it extended to +her. When she discovered the true state of matters, she made haste to +declare openly that had she been asked, nothing would have induced her +to accept the offer. As for Rowena, she should have known better. After +the shabby treatment she had received from Rowena, it was ridiculous in +her to dream that she, Mignon, would lend herself to anything so +contemptible. A few such guileful speeches to the more credulous girls +caused Mignon's stock to rise considerably higher. Others who knew her +too well looked wise and held their peace. Mignon alone knew just how +narrowly she had missed falling into a pit of Rowena's digging. + +Quiet Constance entertained her own view of the incident. It coincided +completely with Marjorie's thoughtful opinion. "It's hard to part a pair +of girls like those two," she said. "They have too much in common. +Between you and me, I don't imagine Mignon will stick to us very long. +She's not interested in us." + +"No, I suppose she thinks us rather too stiff-necked. Oh, well, we can +only do our best and let the future take care of itself. There's the +doorbell, Connie. That must be Jerry. She told Captain she'd come over +early. Will you go down and escort her in state to my house?" + +Constance vanished to return almost immediately, but without Jerry. She +had not come back empty-handed, however. A large, white pasteboard box +bearing the name "Braley's" revealed the fact that Hal had outstripped +his sister. + +"Oh, the gorgeous things!" gurgled Marjorie, as she lifted a great sheaf +of long-stemmed pink rosebuds from the box. Her pale cheeks took color +from the roses as she spied Hal's card with a cheering message written +underneath in his flowing, boyish hand. "He's been such a comfort! Just +as soon as I get well I'm going to have a little dance and invite all +the boys." Marjorie touched the fragrant token with a friendly hand. +"Laurie sent me some violets yesterday. Those on the chiffonier." + +"He sent me some, too," admitted Constance rather shyly. + +"How strange!" dimpled Marjorie. "Oh, there's the bell again! That +surely must be Jerry!" + +Before Constance was half way downstairs, Jerry was half way up, her +broad face beaming, her arms laden with a large, round object, strangely +resembling a cake. + +"Oh, take it!" she gasped. "My arms are breaking." + +Constance coming to her rescue, the two girls soon made haven with +Marjorie and a lively chattering began. Frequent alarms at the front +door denoted steadily arriving guests and a little past two found +Marjorie's strictly informal reception in full swing, with girls tucked +into every convenient corner of her room. Her own particular chums, +including Ellen Seymour and Esther Lind, were all there. Even Susan and +Muriel, who had been busy getting well while she lay ill, were able to +be present. Lucy Warner was also among the happy throng, a trifle shy, +but with a new look of gentleness in her green eyes and a glad little +smile on her somber face. + +Mignon appeared, but did not stay to the merry-making. She was full of +polite sympathy and apparently bent on doing the agreeable. But in her +black eyes lay a curious, furtive expression, which Marjorie mentally +decided made her look more than ever like the Evil Genius. After a +sojourn of perhaps twenty minutes, during which she walked about +restlessly from girl to girl, exchanging commonplaces, she pleaded an +engagement and took her leave. + +Her presence somewhat of a strain, her departure was not mourned. Now +wholly congenial, the party dropped all reserve and became exceedingly +hilarious. Despite Mrs. Dean's protests, they had insisted on bringing +their own refreshments, and later on Marjorie's pink-and-white house was +turned into a veritable picnic ground. Jerry's weighty contribution +turned out to be an immense many-layered cake, thickly iced and +decorated. "A regular whale of a cake," she styled it, and no one +contradicted her. After the luncheon had been eaten to the ceaseless +buzz of girlish voices, each trying to out-talk the other, the company +proceeded further to amuse the lovely convalescent with various funny +little stunts at their command. + +"Girls," at last reminded thoughtful Irma, "it is after four o'clock. We +mustn't tire Marjorie out. I move we go downstairs to the living room +and lift up our voices for her benefit in a good, old-fashioned song. +Then we'll come back, say good-bye and run home." + +The wisdom of Irma's proposal conceded, the singers trooped downstairs. +Presently, through the open door, the sound of their clear, young voices +came up to her as she lay back listening, a bright smile irradiating her +delicate features. It was so beautiful to know that others cared so much +about making her happy. She had so many things to be thankful for. + +Afterward when all except Jerry and Constance had kissed her good-bye +and departed with bubbling good wishes, she said soberly: "Girls, +doesn't it make you positively shiver when you think that next year will +be our last in Sanford High? After that we'll be scattered. Most of us +are going away to college. That means we'll only see each other during +vacations. I can't bear to think of it." + +"Some of us will still be together," declared Jerry stoutly. "Susan, +Muriel and I are going to Hamilton College if you do. You see, you can't +lose us." + +"I don't wish to lose you." Marjorie patted Jerry's hand. Her brown eyes +rested a trifle wistfully on Constance. Marjorie knew, as did Jerry, +that Connie intended to go to New York to study grand opera as soon as +her high school life was over. + +"You are thinking of Connie." Jerry's eyes had followed Marjorie's +glance. "She won't be lost to us. Hamilton isn't so very far from New +York. But what's the use in worrying when we've some of this year left +yet and another year before us? One thing at a time is my motto." + +"You are a philosopher, Jeremiah." Marjorie brightened. "'One thing at a +time,'" she repeated. "That's the right idea. When I go back to school +again, I'm going to try my hardest to make the rest of my junior year a +success. I can't say much about my senior year. It's still an +undiscovered territory. I'm just going to remember that it's a soldier's +first duty to go where he's ordered and ask no questions. When I'm +ordered to my senior year, all I can do is salute the colors and forward +march!" + +"Lead on and we'll follow," asserted Jerry Macy gallantly. "I guess we +can hike along and leave a few landmarks on that precious senior +territory. When I come into senior estate I shall use nothing but the +most elegant English. As I am still a junior I can still say, +'Geraldine, Jerry, Jeremiah, you've got to beat it. It's almost five +o'clock.'" + +Left together, after Jerry had made extravagantly ridiculous farewells, +Constance seated herself beside Marjorie's bed. "Are you tired, +Lieutenant?" was her solicitous question. + +"Not a bit. I'm going to make Captain let me go downstairs to-morrow. +It's time I was up and doing again. I am away behind in my lessons." + +"You'll catch up," comforted Constance. Inwardly she was reflecting that +she doubted whether there were any situation with which Marjorie Dean +could not catch up. Her feet were set in ways of light that wandered +upward to the stars. Though to those who courted darkness it might +appear that she sometimes faltered, Constance knew that those same +steady feet would carry her unfalteringly through her senior year to the +wider life to come. + +How Marjorie explored her new senior territory and what landmarks she +left behind in passing will be told in "Marjorie Dean, High School +Senior." + + THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Marjorie Dean, High School Junior, by +Pauline Lester + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR *** + +***** This file should be named 36823.txt or 36823.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/8/2/36823/ + +Produced by Roger Frank, Katherine Ward and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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