Marjorie Dean, High School Junior Part 24

"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 compa.s.sionately. 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 sn.o.bbish."

"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 pa.s.sed 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 la.s.situde 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 Sat.u.r.day, 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 soph.o.m.ores 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 soph.o.m.ore team would say when she told them.

She had just finished tucking it into the bulletin board when Nellie Simmons, a member of the soph.o.m.ore team, paused curiously to read it.

The very fact that it came from Ellen's hands indicated basket ball news. "Hmm!" she e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed 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 soph.o.m.ore locker room, b.u.mping 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 bas.e.m.e.nt 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 soph.o.m.ore 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 pa.s.sed 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 pa.s.s.

"Wait a minute, Mignon," she hailed, as the latter was about to pa.s.s 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 Sat.u.r.day."

Astounded by this remarkable statement, Mignon halted. Rowena had guessed that she would. "I don't understand you," she said haughtily.

"Yes, you do," a.s.sured 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 p.a.w.ns, 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 a.s.sociation 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 impa.s.sive-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?"