ad that they had declared for her.
She liked Jerry's blunt independence and Irma's gentle, lovable
personality. With the optimism of sixteen, she declined to worry over
what had happened, and her report to her captain at the end of that
troubled afternoon included only the pleasant events of the day.

When she went to school the next Monday morning she discovered that it
did hurt, just a trifle, to be deliberately cut by the Picture Girl,
and, instead of being greeted with Susan Atwell's dimpled smile, to
receive an icy stare from that young woman, as, later in the morning,
they passed each other in the corridor.

In some mysterious manner the story of the disagreement had been noised
about the freshman class, with the result that Marjorie's acquaintance
was eagerly sought by a number of freshmen whom she knew merely by
sight, and that several girls, who had made it a point to smile and nod
to her, now passed her, frigid and unsmiling.

As for the members of the little group Marjorie had watched so earnestly
before she had been enrolled as a freshman at Sanford, they were now
divided indeed. As the week progressed the "Terrible Trio," as Jerry had
satirically named Mignon, Muriel and Susan, endeavored to make plain to
whoever would listen to them that there was but one side to the story,
namely, their side. Emulating Marjorie's example, Jerry and Irma had
taken particular pains to be friendly with Constance Stevens. After an
eloquent dissertation on friendship, delivered by Marjorie at their
locker on the Monday morning following her disagreement with the other
girls, Constance had shed a few happy tears and admitted that she had
rather be "best friends" with Marjorie than anyone else in the world.

The hardest part of it all for Marjorie was her basketball practice. It
was dreadful to be on speaking terms with only one girl on the team,
Harriet Delaney, and she was not overly cordial. Marjorie tried to
remember that Miss Randall had appointed her to her position, that the
right to play was hers; but the unfriendly players made her nervous, and
she lost her usual snap and daring. The second week's practice came, and
she resolved to play up to her usual form, but, try as she might, she
fell far short of the promise she had shown at the tryout. She also
noted uneasily that, no matter how early she reported for practice, the
team seemed always to be in the gymnasium before her and that one of the
substitutes invariably