arcasm. "I meant what I
said, every word of it. Mignon is my dear friend and I shall stand up
for her."

"Oh, let me alone, all of you!" With an agile spring, Mignon gained the
stairway and sped up the stairs on winged feet. Two minutes later,
wrapped in her evening coat and scarf, she reappeared at the head and
ran down the steps two at a time. "Thank you so much for a delightful
evening," she bowed ironically. "I'm so sorry I haven't time to stay and
be lectured. It's too bad, isn't it, Miss Mary, that the reform couldn't
go on?" To Mary she held out her hand. "Come and spend the day with me
to-morrow, Mary. You may like it so well, you'll decide to stay. If you
do, why just come along whenever you feel disposed. I can assure you
that our house is a pleasanter place to live in than the one you are in
now." With this pointed fling she bowed again in mock courtesy to the
silent woman who had offended her and flounced out the door and into the
starlit night to where her own electric runabout was standing.

"Can you beat that?" was the tribute that fell from Jerry Macy's lips.

Mrs. Dean looked from one to the other of the three girls. "Now, girls,
I demand an explanation of all this. Who of you is at fault in the
matter?"

"I told you it was I," answered Jerry. "Marjorie and I were talking
about Mignon and saying that she was having a good time. Then I had to
go on and say some more things that I don't take back, but that weren't
intended for listeners. I didn't know Mignon and Mary were hidden in
that alcove. Do you suppose I'd have spoiled our reform, after all the
trouble we've had making it go, if I'd known they were there?"

Mrs. Dean could not repress a faint smile at Jerry's rueful admissions.
She liked this stout, matter-of-fact girl in spite of her rough, brusque
ways.

"No, I don't suppose you would, but you were in the wrong, I am afraid.
You must learn to curb that sharp tongue, Jerry. It is likely, some day,
to involve you in serious trouble."

"I know it." Jerry hung her head. "But, you see, Marjorie understands
me. That's why I say to her whatever I think."

"Mary," Mrs. Dean gravely studied Mary's sulky face, "I am deeply hurt
and surprised. Later I shall have something to say to you and Marjorie.
Now go back to your friends, all of you, and try to make up to them for
this unpleasantness."

Marjorie, who all this time had said nothing, now began timidly. She had
seldom seen her beloved Captain