wildness, her lack
of advantages, had touched the pity of Marjorie and Frances, and some of
the other softer-hearted Scouts; accordingly, the troop had voted to
send Frieda to public school in the fall, assuming her support as their
public Good Turn. Marjorie had been tremendously enthusiastic over the
project, while Ruth, on the other hand, had thrown cold water upon it
from the beginning. Now that the girl had not appeared as she had
promised, Ruth felt elated; Marjorie, in her turn, was equally cast
down.

"She may come yet!" she answered, defiantly, putting more hope into her
tone than she really entertained. "Mrs. Brubaker wrote to Miss Phillips
that Frieda's baby sister was sick! So probably she'll come in a week or
so."

Marjorie succeeded in obtaining two plates of ice-cream and some cakes,
and, holding them high above the heads of the crowd, made her way to the
distant corner indicated by Ruth. She found the freshman still sitting
alone, half hidden by an overhanging evergreen, gazing dejectedly into
space.

"Pardon me," said Marjorie pleasantly, "may I give you some ice-cream?"

The girl looked up suddenly, and for an instant her brown eyes met
Marjorie's. She seemed pale and thin, and her eyes appeared unusually
large and liquid, as if tears were never far from the surface.

"Thank you," she muttered, rising and taking the plate.

"And may I sit with you?" continued the older girl. "At least, if you
are not expecting----"

"No, no; nobody is with me!" She flushed painfully at the reference to
her own unpopularity.

"Ruth Henry said she was just talking to you," said Marjorie hastily,
trying to cover her embarrassment. "And your name is Alice Endicott,
isn't it?"

"Yes."

"And who is your room-mate?" pursued Marjorie, wondering why the girl,
whoever she was, should desert Alice, knowing how shy she was.

"Esther Taylor," replied the freshman; "but she doesn't bother much with
me."

It was obvious that poor little Alice was both homesick and lonely, and
Marjorie's heart warmed toward her as it might to a lost child. She
chatted pleasantly all through the intermission; then, securing her a
partner for the next dance, she left with the promise to seek her again.

When the party was all over, and the tired sophomores were getting ready
for bed, Marjorie, who still felt the sting of Ruth's taunt, remarked to
Lily,

"Well, if we can't do our Good Turn for Frieda Hammer, we can do one
right here