nd
knocked at Marjorie's door.

A single glance at Marjorie's face was sufficient for her to determine
that her chum had been crying. She decided that she was glad of it.
Marjorie had made _her_ unhappy, now she deserved a similar fate.

"Why, Mary!" Marjorie sprang from the bed and advanced to meet her.
Involuntarily both arms were outstretched in tender appeal.

Mary took no notice of the mutely pleading arms, save to step back with
a cold gesture of avoidance.

"I haven't come here to be friends," she said with deliberate cruelty.
"I've come to ask you what you intend to say to your mother."

"What _can_ I say to her?" Marjorie's voice had a despairing note.

"You can say nothing," retorted Mary. "That is what _I_ intend to do.
Your friend, Jerry Macy, said too much last night. I cannot see why our
school affairs should be discussed in this house. I am sorry that
Mignon made a--a--disturbance last night. I didn't intend to listen,
but----" Her old-time frankness had almost overcome her newly hostile
bearing. She was on the point of saying that she had been ready to step
forth from behind the palms at Jerry's first speech. Then loyalty to
Mignon prevailed and she paused.

Marjorie caught at a straw. "I _knew_ you didn't intend to listen,
Mary." The assurance rang out earnestly. "I couldn't make myself believe
that you would. I wanted to stay last night and tell you how sorry I was
for--for everything, but I owed it to Captain to obey orders. Mary,
dear, can't we start over again? I'm sure it's all been a stupid
mistake. Let's be good soldiers and resolve to face that dreadful enemy,
Misunderstanding, together. Let's go to Captain and tell her every
single thing! Think how much better we'll both feel. It almost broke my
heart, last night, when you said you were going to Mignon's to live. If
Captain thinks it best, I'll break my promise to Connie and tell
you----"

At the mention of Constance Stevens' name Mary's face darkened. Touched
by Marjorie's impassioned appeal she had been tempted to break down the
barrier that rose between them and take the girl she still adored into
her stubborn heart again. But the mere name of Constance had acted as a
spur to her rancor.

"Don't trouble yourself about begging permission of Miss Stevens on _my_
account," she sneered. "I know a great deal too much of her already.
What do you suppose the girls and boys of Franklin High, who gave you
your butterfly pin, would say if t