Marjorie Dean, High School Freshman Part 3

"Oh, Miss Archer!" exclaimed the tall girl, eagerly, with an impulsive step forward, "you haven't forbidden basketball this year, have you?

Stella and I couldn't believe our ears when we heard it this morning!"

It was evident that the impetuous Ellen was on the best possible terms with her princ.i.p.al.

"I don't remember having issued an order to that effect," smiled Miss Archer. "Where did you hear that bit of news?"

Ellen Seymour's plain face flushed, then paled. "It was just a rumor,"

she replied with reluctance. "I'd rather not mention names. Still, when I heard it, I could not rest until I had asked you. The soph.o.m.ores hope to do something wonderful this year. We couldn't bear to believe for a minute that there would be no basketball. We had planned to have a tryout some day this week, after school. I'm so glad," she added fervently. "Thank you, Miss Archer. Oh, pardon me," she turned to Marjorie, "this is Miss Archer, our princ.i.p.al. Miss Archer, this young lady wishes to see you. I met her in the corridor downstairs and volunteered my services as guide."

With a courteous nod to Marjorie, the tall girl left the room and the princ.i.p.al turned her attention toward the prospective freshman.

At the calm, kindly inquiry of the gray eyes Marjorie's feeling of shyness vanished, and she said in her most soldierly manner, as though speaking to her mother: "Miss Archer, my name is Marjorie Dean, and I wish to enter the freshman cla.s.s of Sanford High School. We moved to Sanford from the city of B----. We have been here just a week. I was a freshman in Franklin High School at B----."

Miss Archer took the young girl's hand in hers. Her rather stern face was lighted with a welcoming smile. Marjorie's direct speech and frank, honest eyes had pleased the older woman.

"I am glad to know that we are to have a new pupil," she said cordially.

"The freshman cla.s.s is smaller than usual this year. So many girls leave school when their grammar school course is finished. I wish we could persuade these mothers and fathers to let their daughters have at least a year of high school. It would help them so much in whatever kind of work they elected to do later."

"That is what mother says," returned Marjorie, quickly. "My mother intended to come with me to-day, but was unable to do so." She did not go into details. Young as she was, Marjorie had a horror of discussing her personal affairs with a stranger. "She will call upon you later."

"I shall be pleased to meet your mother," Miss Archer made courteous answer. "The first and most important matter to be considered this morning is your cla.s.s standing. Let me see. B---- is in the same state as the town of Sanford. I believe the system of credits is the same in all the high schools throughout this state, as the examinations come from the state board at the capital. What studies had you begun at B----?"

"English composition, algebra, physiology, American history and French,"

recited Marjorie, dutifully.

Miss Archer raised her eyebrows. "You are ambitious. We usually allow our pupils to carry only four subjects."

"But these are quite easy subjects," pleaded Marjorie; "that is, all except algebra. I am not especially clever in mathematics. I am obliged to study very hard to make good recitations. Still, I should like to continue with the subjects I have begun. Won't you try me until the end of the first term?" she added, a coaxing note in her voice.

"I will at least try you for a week or two. Then if I find that you are not overtaxing your strength you may go on with them."

"Thank you." Marjorie's relieved tone caused the princ.i.p.al to smile again. It was not usual for a pupil to show concern over the prospect of losing a subject. Many of the students rebelled at having to carry four subjects.

"Have you your grammar school certificate with you?" asked Miss Archer, the smile giving way to a businesslike expression.

Marjorie handed the princ.i.p.al the large envelope she had been carrying.

Miss Archer drew forth a square of thick white paper, ornamented with the red seal by which the state board of school commissioners had signified their approval of Marjorie Dean and her work in the grammar school.

The older woman read it carefully. "Yes, this is, as I thought the same form of certificate. From this moment on you are a freshman in Sanford High School, Miss Dean. I trust that you will be happy here. Sanford has the reputation of being one of the finest schools in the state. I am going to a.s.sign you to a seat in the study hall at once. Miss Merton is in charge there. She will give you a printed form of our curriculum of study. School opens at nine o'clock in the morning. The morning session lasts until twelve o'clock. We have an hour and a quarter for luncheon, and our last recitation for the day is over at half past three o'clock.

We have devotional exercises in the chapel on Monday and Friday mornings, and the course in gymnastics is optional. There are, of course, many other things regarding the regulations of the school which you will gradually come to know."

"Miss Arnold," the thin-faced, sharp-eyed young woman, who had been covertly appraising Marjorie during her talk with Miss Archer, came languidly forward. "This is Miss Dean." The two girls bowed rather distantly. Marjorie had conceived an instant and violent dislike for this lynx-eyed stranger. "Take Miss Dean to the locker room, then to Miss Merton. Say to Miss Merton that Miss Dean is a freshman, and that I wish her a.s.signed to a desk in the freshman section."

With a last glance of pleasant approval, which Marjorie's pretty face, dainty attire and frank, yet modest bearing had evoked, the princ.i.p.al retired to her inner office, and Marjorie obediently followed her guide, who, without speaking, set off down the corridor at almost unnecessary speed. "This way," she directed curtly as they reached the main corridor. They pa.s.sed down the corridor, descended a second stairway and brought up directly in front of long rows of lockers. Within five minutes Marjorie's hat had been put away, and she had received a locker key. This done, her companion hurried her upstairs and down the wide corridor through which they had first come.

Then she suddenly opened a door, and Marjorie found herself in an enormous square room, which contained row upon row of shining oak desks, occupied by what seemed to her hundreds of pupils. In reality there were not more than two hundred and forty persons in the room, but in the eyes of the little stranger everything was quadrupled. How different it was from Franklin! So this was the study hall, one of the things on which the school prided itself. In front of the rows of desks was one large desk on a small raised platform, reminding Marjorie of an island in the midst of a sea. At the desk sat a small, gray-haired woman, who peered suspiciously over her gla.s.ses at Marjorie as she was lifelessly introduced by Miss Arnold.

"I don't like _her_ at all," was the young girl's inward comment as she walked behind the stiff, uncompromising, black-clothed back to a desk almost in the middle of the last row of seats on the east side. But Marjorie experienced a little shiver of delight as she seated herself, for directly in front of her, and gazing at her with rea.s.suring, smiling eyes, was the Picture Girl.

CHAPTER V

GETTING ACQUAINTED WITH THE PICTURE GIRL

"Welcome to Sanford," whispered the girl, "and to the freshman cla.s.s. I was sure when I saw you the other day you couldn't be anything other than a freshman."

Marjorie flushed, then smiled faintly. "I didn't think any of the girls would remember me," she confessed.

"Oh, I remember you perfectly. You were across the street from school on three different days, weren't you?"

Marjorie nodded. "I just had to come down and get acquainted with the outside of the school. I was awfully curious about it."

"Miss Harding," a cold voice at their elbows caused both girls to start.

So intent had they been on their conversation that they had not noticed Miss Merton's approach, "you may answer any questions Miss Dean wishes to ask regarding our course of study here as set forth in our curriculum." She laid a closely printed sheet of paper before Marjorie.

"This does not mean, however, the personal conversation in which, I am sorry to say, you appeared to be engrossed when I approached. Remember, Miss Dean, that personal conversation will neither be excused nor tolerated in the study hall. I trust I shall not have to remind you of this again."

Marjorie watched with unseeing eyes the angular form of the teacher as she retreated to her platform. If Miss Merton had dealt her a blow on her upturned face, it could have hurt no more severely than had this unlooked-for reprimand. She was filled with a choking sense of shame that threatened to end in a burst of angry sobs. The deep blush that had risen to her face receded, leaving her very white. Those students sitting in her immediate vicinity had, of course, heard Miss Merton. She glanced quickly about to encounter two pairs of eyes. One pair was blue and, it seemed to the embarra.s.sed newcomer, sympathetic. Their owner was the "Mary" girl, who sat two seats behind her in the next aisle. The other pair was cruelly mocking, and they belonged to the girl that Marjorie had mentally styled the Evil Genius. Something in their taunting depths stirred an hitherto unawakened chord in gentle Marjorie Dean. She returned the insolent gaze with one so full of steady strength and defiance that the girl's eyes dropped before it and she devoted herself a.s.siduously to the open book which she held in her hand.

"Don't mind Miss Merton," whispered Muriel, comfortingly. "She is the worst crank I ever saw. No one likes her. I don't believe even Miss Archer does. She's been here for ages, so the Board of Education thinks that Sanford High can't run without her, I guess."

"I'm so mortified and ashamed," murmured Marjorie. "On my first day, too."

"Don't think about it," soothed Muriel. "What studies are you going to take? I hope you will recite in some of my cla.s.ses. Wait a moment. I'll come back there and sit with you; then we'll make less noise. Miss Merton told me to help you, you know," she reminded, with a soft chuckle.

The fair head and the dark one bent earnestly over the printed sheet.

Marjorie whispered her list of subjects to her new friend, who jotted them down on the margin of the program.

"How about 9.15 English Comp?" she asked. "That's my section."

Marjorie nodded her approval.

"Then you can recite algebra with me at 10.05, and there's a first-year French cla.s.s at 11.10. That brings three subjects in the morning. Now, let me see about your history. If you can make your history and physiology come the first two periods in the afternoon, you will be through by three o'clock and can have that last half hour for study or gym, or whatever you like. I am carrying only four subjects, so I have nothing but physical geography in the afternoon. I am through reciting every day by 2 o'clock, so I learn most of my lessons in school and hardly ever take my books home. If I were you, I'd drop one subject--American History, for instance. You can study it later. The freshman cla.s.s is planning a lot of good times for this winter, and, of course, you want to be in them, too, don't you?"

"I should say so," beamed Marjorie. "Still," her face sobering, "I think I won't drop history. It's easy, and I love it."

"Well, I don't," emphasized Muriel. "By the way, do you play basketball?"

"I played left guard on our team last year, and I had just been chosen for center on the freshman team, at Franklin High, when I left there,"

was the whispered reply.

"That's encouraging," declared Muriel. "We haven't chosen our team yet.

We are to have a tryout at four o'clock on Friday afternoon in the gymnasium. You can go to the meeting with me, although you will have met most of the freshman cla.s.s before Friday. Oh, yes, did Miss Archer tell you that we report in the study hall at half-past eight o'clock on Monday and Friday mornings? We have chapel exercises, and woe be unto you if you are late. It's an unforgivable offense in Miss Merton's eyes to walk into chapel after the service has begun. If you are late, you take particular pains to linger around the corridor until the line comes out of chapel, then you slide into your section and march into the study hall as boldly as though you'd never been late in your life,"

ended Muriel with a giggle, which she promptly smothered.

"But what if Miss Merton sees one?"

Muriel made a little resigned gesture. "Try it some day and see. There's the 9.15 bell. Come along. If we hurry we'll have a minute with the girls before cla.s.s begins. All of my chums recite English this first hour. You needn't stop at Miss Merton's desk. It'll be all right."