Marjorie Dean, High School Senior. Chase Josephine
to know and love her.
Now, in the first week of her senior year, she was again exerting her kindly influence in behalf of the stranger within her gates.
As the bevy of girls moved through the corridor to the main entrance of the school, she slipped her arm through that of the new girl and said cheerily, “I am sure you will like Sanford High, Miss Browning. I felt quite lost when first I came here. Now I’d be more lost if I had to leave it. Where did you live before you came here?”
“In California,” answered Veronica. “I was born there. You know, I suppose, that I came East with – with – Miss – Archer.” She hesitated slightly on the last words. “I should like to tell you something,” she continued frankly. “I heard what that black-eyed girl was saying about me as I came into the locker room. Of course I wish to be friends with you and these nice girls you go with – but – well, perhaps you ought not to pay too much attention to – one – in my position.”
Marjorie gave Veronica’s arm a gentle little squeeze. “Now I am sure you don’t know us very well. We choose our friends for what they are, not because of social position or any such foolishness. You really mustn’t mind Mignon. She has been – well – brought up rather differently from the rest of us. We – ” Marjorie stopped in confusion. “There are some things I can’t explain,” she went on slowly. “It seems rather queer in me to ask you to like Mignon, but if you will try to think of her as kindly as you can, it will help her a great deal. I’m afraid that’s not very clear,” she concluded in embarrassment.
“I think I understand,” nodded Veronica. A shade of the peculiar smile that Marjorie had noted on first sight of her at Miss Archer’s flickered briefly about her mobile lips. “After all, I am here for study. Under the circumstances I can’t really expect to take much part in the social side of high school. I have had so many – ” She suddenly ceased speaking, with a little catch of breath.
“Oh, you must come to my home to see me and come to my parties, too,” put in Marjorie quickly. “I wish you to meet my mother and father. I call them General and Captain. I am a Lieutenant. So is Connie Stevens. We all belong to a little army of our own. It’s a game a friend of mine and I used to play when we were little girls and we’ve never outgrown it.”
“How pretty!” The fair, sensitive face of the other girl broke into radiant, smiling beauty.
Marjorie thought her more fascinating than ever when she smiled. “I must tell you a secret,” she confided impulsively. “I liked you the minute I saw you at Miss Archer’s. I am sure we shall be good friends.”
“Here is my hand to seal the bargain,” laughed Veronica. “You have come to mean a great deal to me already. I never thought that – ”
“It’s not fair in you, Marjorie Dean, to monopolize our brand-new senior,” called Jerry Macy. They had now left the school building and were swinging down the street in pairs, Marjorie and Veronica bringing up the rear.
“Come on.” Seizing her companion by the arm, Marjorie propelled her forward until they bumped gently into Jerry and Irma, who were just ahead of them. “Here we are,” she announced mischievously.
“Such boisterous conduct.” Jerry drew down her plump face in imitation of Miss Merton. “I’m not complaining on my own account, but I have to protect Irma from your onslaughts.”
“That’s the same as saying I need a guardian, Jeremiah,” teased Irma. “You know it’s really the other way around.”
“They are such jolly girls,” commented Veronica. “When I was – ” She stopped. Abruptly changing the subject she began to remark on the beauty of the huge maples that stood sentinel-like on both sides of the street.
Marjorie agreed rather absently that they were indeed magnificent trees. Inwardly she wondered if Veronica had the habit of so abruptly chopping off her speeches. For all her apparent frankness there was a curious baffling side to her that Marjorie was at a loss to understand. It reminded her of the puzzling way in which Constance Stevens had behaved when first they met. She reflected that perhaps this girl felt the weight of poverty even as Constance had once felt its pressure. On the other hand, Veronica appeared outwardly to accept it with the utmost serenity.
Perhaps the other girl may have glimpsed something of what was going on behind Marjorie’s tranquil face. Casting a sidelong glance at her pretty companion, her strange smile lived again, to die in a fleeting instant. “I must leave you here,” she said, as they reached a cross street that led to the avenue on which the Archer homestead was situated. “Better think over what I told you. Remember I am Miss Archer’s ‘servant girl.’” She laughed musically as though she rather enjoyed thus reminding Marjorie of her humble status.
“You are my friend,” responded Marjorie gravely. “Please remember that. Good-bye. We’ll see each other again this afternoon.”
Nodding a smiling farewell to Marjorie and the others, Veronica Browning left them and hurried on toward home.
“Do you suppose she has to help with the luncheon?” asked Jerry, her round eyes fastened on Veronica’s rapidly retreating back.
“She’d hardly have time to do much work at noon,” declared Irma. “I don’t imagine she would be asked to do that. It’s splendid in Miss Archer to take a young girl like that to work for her and allow her to go to school.”
“Just who is she, Marjorie?” quizzed Jerry. “How did you and Mignon happen to get acquainted with her before school opened? Where did Mignon get all her information? She ought to be ashamed of herself for saying what she said before the girls. It’s lucky that we were there to help out.”
Quite willing to satisfy Jerry’s curiosity regarding the whys and wherefores of the new senior, Marjorie related the incidents pertaining to her call on the principal, ending with “The very first moment I saw her, I liked her. Of course I feel very kindly toward the different maids in you girls’ homes. But I feel differently toward Veronica. I suppose it is because she’s so sweet and pretty and about the same age as the rest of us. I’m glad she’s going to be a pupil at Sanford High. I know I needn’t ask you girls to be nice to her. I can see that all of you like her already.”
A chorus of hearty affirmatives went up from the six girls who had halted in the middle of the sidewalk to gather about Marjorie.
“She’s a nice girl.” Jerry placed the stamp of her emphatic approval upon the senior who had just left them. “But she is going to have troubles of her own with Mignon. You mustn’t forget that a number of girls besides ourselves were in the locker room and heard Mignon sneering about Veronica. I’m going to begin calling her Veronica. You know what that means. If I come to like her a good deal, I’ve already thought of a nice little pet name for her.”
Jerry’s cheerful grin went the rounds of her friends’ faces. It was a well-known fact among them that the stout girl never addressed a schoolmate as “Miss” unless she entertained a lively dislike for her.
“Everyone of us will stand by Veronica. That means she will have seven staunch supporters at least,” broke in Constance Stevens, her blue eyes purposeful. “That is really all we need care about. Besides, I don’t believe many of the seniors will snub her. If they do, they’ll be very sly about it. The fact that she lives at Miss Archer’s will make a good impression on most of the girls. If a few girls in Sanford High are hateful to her because she is working her way through school, I don’t imagine she will care very much.”
“I think you are right, Connie,” nodded Marjorie. “Veronica told me that she didn’t expect to see much of the social side of high school life. I suppose she feels that she ought to make the most of the chance to study and go to school.”
“How did she happen to come here, I wonder?” mused Jerry. “You said, Marjorie, that she said she’d lived in the state of California. I suppose she must have stayed with Miss Archer’s relatives and worked her way through the first three years of high school while she lived with them.”
“I suppose so,” agreed Marjorie. As she answered Jerry it suddenly flashed