e her
way to the dressing-room. Jerry followed her within the next five
minutes.

"The car's here," she announced briefly. "Hal and Laurie and the Crane
are going home with us."

"Don't you cry, Constance," she soothed, patting the curly, golden head.
"Mignon made a goose of herself to-night. The boys are all disgusted,
and everyone knows she was making a fuss over nothing. You did exactly
right, too, Marjorie, when you sent us all about our business. I'm sorry
it happened, but you remember what I tell you, Mignon has hurt herself a
great deal more than she has hurt you."

CHAPTER XIII

A PITCHED BATTLE

After the echoes of the dance had died away, basketball received a new
impetus that brought it to the fore with a bound. With the renewed
interest in the coming game was also noised about the report that "Miss
Dean wasn't on the team any longer," and in some unknown fashion the
news that she had been "asked" to resign had also gone the round of the
study hall. The upper class girls were not particularly interested
either in Marjorie or her affairs. She had not lived in Sanford long
enough to become well-known to them, and as a rule the juniors and
seniors left the bringing up of the freshmen to their sophomore sisters.
The sophomores were too much absorbed in the progress of their own team
to trouble themselves greatly over what was happening in the freshman
organization. If Muriel or Mignon had resigned, then there would have
been good cause for predicting an easy victory, for both girls were
considered formidable opponents; but Marjorie was new material, untried
and unproven.

It was in the freshman class, however, that comment ran rife. Since the
night of the Weston dance the class had been almost equally divided. A
little less than half the girls had either openly or by friendly smiles
and nods declared in favor of Marjorie and her friends. The remaining
members of the class, with a few neutral exceptions, were apparently
devoted to the French girl and Muriel. Among their adherents they also
counted Miss Merton, who took no pains to conceal her open dislike for
Marjorie, and Marcia Arnold, who even went so far as to try to explain
the situation to Miss Archer and was sternly reminded that the principal
would take no part in the private differences of her girls unless they
had something to do with breaking the rules of the school.

The days immediately preceding the game were not cheerful ones for
M