ws that the girls were dying
to meet her and were so sorry they had missed her at noon.

"We waited for you more than ten minutes," Muriel whispered guardedly.
"Mignon saw you stop at Professor Fontaine's desk. We knew what that
meant. It always takes him forever to explain anything. Do you remember
a black-haired, black-eyed girl in the French class this morning? She
wore the sweetest brown crepe-de-chine dress. Well, that's Mignon La
Salle. Her father is the richest man in Sanford. Mignon could go away to
school if she liked, but she doesn't care about it. Tell you more
later."

Muriel faced front with a sudden jerk that could mean but one thing.
Marjorie cast a fleeting glance at Miss Merton. The teacher was frowning
angrily, as though about to deliver a rebuke. Luckily for the two girls,
the first recitation bell rang and they stood not upon the order of
their going, but went with alacrity. Once outside the study-hall door
they were safe.

"I don't know what ails Miss Merton," complained Muriel. "She has never
said a word to me before. That's twice to-day she has shown her claws."

"She doesn't like me," said Marjorie, calmly, "and I don't like her. I
think she is the rudest teacher I ever knew. It was I, not you that she
meant that scolding for this morning."

"Nonsense!" scoffed Muriel. "She likes you as well as she likes the rest
of us. I don't believe she is awfully, terribly, fearfully fond of
girls. When she was young she must have been one of those stiff, prim
goody-goodies; the distressingly snippy sort that made all her friends
so tired." Muriel laughed softly.

Marjorie smiled at Muriel's unflattering description of Miss Merton's
youth, then her face sobered. In her heart she knew that Miss Merton
disliked her, and the knowledge was not pleasant. She made an earnest
resolve to overcome the teacher's prejudice. She would make Miss Merton
like her.

Muriel went with her as far as the door of the history room, which was
in charge of Miss Atkins, a stout, middle-aged woman, who beamed amiably
upon Marjorie, entered her name in the class register, motioned her to a
front seat and promptly appeared to forget her existence. But though
Miss Atkins exhibited small personal interest in her new pupil, such was
not the case with regard to the subject which she taught. The lesson
dealt with the coming of the Virginia colonists, their settlement in
Jamestown and the final burning of the town. Miss Atkins' vivid