Marjorie Dean, High School Sophomore. Chase Josephine
her anger, she made courteous reply. "She is not a visitor. She expects to enter the sophomore class."
"Come down to this front seat, young woman," ordered Miss Merton, ignoring Marjorie's explanation. "I'll attend to you later."
Mary sat still, surveying Miss Merton out of two belligerent blue eyes.
"Do as she says, Mary," whispered Marjorie.
Mary obeyed. Walking down the aisle with maddening deliberation, she seated herself on the bench indicated.
"No talking," rasped Miss Merton, as a faint murmur went up from the girls in the sophomore section.
Once the classes had been assigned to their places for the year there was little more to be done. Nettled by her recent resentment against Marjorie, Miss Merton took occasion to deliver a sharp lecture on good conduct in general, making several pointed remarks, which caused Marjorie to color hotly. More than one pair of young eyes glared their resentment of this harsh teacher who had never lost an opportunity in the past school year of censuring their favorite.
The moment the short session was over the girls of her particular set gravitated toward Marjorie.
"Well, of all the old cranks!" scolded Geraldine Macy.
"She's the most hateful teacher in the world," was Muriel Harding's tribute.
"I wouldn't pay any attention to her, Marjorie. I'd go straight to Miss Archer," advised Susan Atwell. "Just see her now! She looks as though she'd actually snap at your friend."
Miss Merton was engaged in interviewing the still belligerent Mary, who stood listening to her, a sulky droop to her pretty mouth.
"Oh, I must go and help Mary out. Wait for me outside, girls."
"Do you need any help?" inquired Jerry. "I never was afraid of Miss Merton, if you'll remember."
"Oh, no." Marjorie hurried toward her friend, and stood quietly at Mary's side.
"Well, Miss Dean, what is it?" Miss Merton eyed Marjorie with her most disagreeable expression.
"I came to tell you, Miss Merton," began Marjorie in her direct fashion, "that Miss Raymond saw Miss Archer this morning before we came to the study hall. She sent us – "
"That will do, Miss Dean," interrupted Miss Merton. "I hope Miss Raymond is capable of attending to her affairs without your assistance. I should greatly prefer that you go on about your own business and leave this matter to me. I believe I have been a teacher in Sanford High School long enough to be trusted to manage my own work."
A bitter retort rose to Marjorie's lips. She forced it back and with a dignified bow to Miss Merton and, "I will wait for you in the corridor, Mary," walked from the room, her head held high, her eyes burning with resentful tears.
CHAPTER VI
MARY'S DISTURBING DISCOVERY
Once outside the study hall Marjorie Dean's proud manner left her. Her recent joy in returning to high school gave place to a feeling of deep dejection. Everything had certainly gone wrong. She had had so many pleasant little thrills of anticipation that she had quite forgotten Miss Merton and the teacher's unreasoning dislike for her, which she had never taken pains to conceal. Muriel's injudicious remarks had made a bad matter worse. Marjorie knew that from now on she would have to be doubly on her guard. It was evident that Miss Merton intended to take her to task whenever the slightest opportunity presented itself. Marjorie even had her suspicions that Miss Merton had known that it was Muriel instead of herself who had uttered those distinctly unflattering words.
"I'll have to be very careful not to offend Miss Merton," she ruminated gloomily, as she stood waiting for Mary, her eyes fastened on the big study-hall door. Then her thoughts switched from Miss Merton to Constance Stevens. Why hadn't Connie come to school? Surely she could not be ill. Perhaps Charlie was sick.
The opening of the study-hall door interrupted her worried reflections. Mary emerged from the hall, looking like a young thundercloud. She closed the door after her with a resounding bang, which conveyed more than words.
"Of all the hateful old tyrants!" she exclaimed, as she hurried toward Marjorie. "I despise her. How dared she treat you so?"
"Oh, never mind," soothed Marjorie. "Let us forget her. Tell me, are you or are you not a sophomore? Or must we go to Miss Archer to straighten things?"
"I'm a sophomore all right enough," said Mary grimly. "I told her what Miss Archer said, and after that she treated me more civilly. Such a teacher is a disgrace to a school. Why is she so bitter against you, Marjorie?"
Marjorie shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. She has always acted like that toward me. It's just a natural dislike, I suppose. Sometimes, after a teacher has taught school a great many years, she takes sudden likes and dislikes. I've been in her black books since my very first day in Sanford High."
"Poor old Lieutenant." Mary patted Marjorie's hand with sympathetic affection.
"Oh, it doesn't matter. I don't really care much. There are so many nice teachers here who do like me that I'm not going to worry over Miss Merton. Come along." She linked her arm in Mary's. "The girls will be waiting for us outside. We are all going down to Sargent's for ice cream. Then we'll go home and report to Captain. After luncheon, I think we had better walk over to Gray Gables. I am afraid Connie or, perhaps, little Charlie is sick. You know Connie promised us, when we were there on Friday, that she'd see us at school."
Mary's face clouded. "I – I think I won't go to Gray Gables with you. I must write to mother. Besides, you and Constance may wish to be by yourselves."
Marjorie's brown eyes opened wide. "Why should we?" she asked. "You know you are always first with me. I haven't any secrets from you."
Mary's face brightened. Perhaps she had been too hasty in her conclusions. "I wish you would tell me all about yourself and Constance," she said slowly. "You promised you would."
"Well, I will," began Marjorie. Then she paused and flushed slightly. It had suddenly come to her that perhaps Constance would not care to have Mary know of the clouds of suspicion that had hung so heavily over her freshman year. "I'd love to tell you about it now, Mary, but I think I had better ask Constance first if she is willing for me to do so. You see, it concerns her more than me. I am almost sure she wouldn't mind, but I'd rather be perfectly fair and ask her first. You know Captain and General have always said to us, 'Never break a confidence.'"
A hurt look crept into Mary's face. "Oh, never mind," she managed to say with a brave assumption of indifference. "I don't wish to know about it if you don't care to tell me."
"But I do care to tell you, and I will if Connie says I may," assured Marjorie earnestly.
Mary had no time for further remark. They had reached the double entrance doors to the building and were hailed by a crowd of girls at the foot of the steps.
"Oh, Connie," Marjorie Dean cried out delightedly. She had spied her friend among them.
Constance ran forward to meet Marjorie and Mary. "I couldn't come before. I've been to the train. Father is here. He's going to be at home for two days. And what do you think he wishes me to do?"
"You are not going away with him?" asked Marjorie in sudden alarm.
"No, indeed. I couldn't give up my sophomore year here, even for him. It isn't anything so serious. He proposed that as long as he was here to play for us, it would be a good idea to – "
"Give a dance," ended Jerry Macy. "Hurrah for Mr. Stevens! Long may he wave!"
"Yes, you have guessed it, Jerry," laughed Constance. "I'm going to give a party in honor of Mary. I was so excited over it that I left him to go on to Gray Gables by himself, while I rushed over here as fast as I could come. I wanted to catch you girls together so I could invite you in a body. Jerry, do you suppose Hal would be willing to see Lawrie and the Crane and some of our boys? It will have to be a strictly informal hop, for I haven't time to send out invitations."
"Of course he'll round up the crowd," assured Jerry slangily. "If he doesn't, I will. I guess I won't go to Sargent's with you. What is