"But why won't you join our club, Veronica?" Marjorie's voice held a
pleading note. "We have been counting on you from the first. Of course I
know you haven't as much time to yourself as the rest of us have. Still,
I am sure Miss Archer would let you come to some of our meetings, if not
all of them. We are going to meet once a week at the homes of the
different girls and in the evening after dinner."
"I am sorry, Marjorie, but really I can't. For your sake I'd love to,
but I am sure it would be best for me not to join your club." Veronica's
pretty, pale features took on a faint tinge of pink as she delivered her
quiet ultimatum.
"Is it because of Mignon La Salle?" It was Marjorie's turn to color as
she asked this pertinent question. Since the first day of school when
Veronica had chanced to overhear Mignon's unkind criticism of herself,
and Marjorie had rather lamely asked the former not to judge the French
girl too harshly, Mignon's name had never again been mentioned between
them. From Jerry Macy, however, and various others, Marjorie had learned
that Mignon never lost an opportunity to pass sneering remarks about
"that servant girl." Marjorie wondered now if at least a part of these
remarks had come to Veronica's ears. If such were the case she could
hardly blame her new friend for refusing to belong to a club of which
Mignon was to be a member.
For a moment Veronica did not answer. Her brief, mysterious smile
flickered into evidence, then faded as she said frankly: "Yes, it is
because of Miss La Salle. Understand, I am not afraid of her sneers. She
is a very vain, foolish young person. It is because----" She broke off
abruptly to launch forth unexpectedly with: "You remember my first day
at school, when you and I walked home together?"
"Yes," came Marjorie's ready answer. Her eyes sought the other girl's
face in mute question.
"You spoke to me then of Miss La Salle, and I said I understood. Since
then I've wondered a good deal whether or not I did understand you. When
you and she came to call on Miss Archer that afternoon, I may say
frankly that I liked you on sight and disliked her intensely. I
supposed, however, that there must be some good in her or you wouldn't
be her friend. Then, too, when she sneered about me in the locker room
and afterward, you asked me to think as kindly of her as I could, I
still supposed that you must like her very much. Now comes the curious
part. I've been at Sanford High only a week, but in that time I've
managed to see and hear a great deal; enough, at any rate, to convince
me that Miss La Salle is not nor never has been your friend. What I
can't understand is why a delightful girl like you should trouble your
head over the welfare of such an ingrate."
Marjorie's face registered patent surprise at gentle Veronica's
energetic denunciation of Mignon. She realized that the flash in the
former's gray eyes betokened an anger that had been wakened in
Veronica's heart solely on her account.
"Why do you and your friends pay any attention to her?" continued
Veronica warmly. "My--Miss Archer has told me a number of things that
make me wonder at it. Of course, this is in strict confidence, but she
was very much surprised to see Miss La Salle with you on the day you
called at our--her house."
"I knew she would be," was Marjorie's rueful reply, "but on that day it
was merely that she happened along in her runabout and--well--and just
came with me. Miss Archer doesn't know----" Marjorie stopped. She had been
on the verge of mentioning to Veronica her promise to Mr. La Salle. More
than once, since that day in her general's office when Mignon's father
had pleaded with her for his daughter's sake, Marjorie had wished that
she had never been asked to make that fateful promise.
"Doesn't know what?" interrogated Veronica with the same energetic
impatience that had characterized her blunt arraignment of the French
girl.
"Veronica," Marjorie began solemnly, "I think, as long as we are already
such good friends, that I ought to tell you about Mignon. It's not fair
to you or myself or my friends to allow you to think that we approve of
some of the things she does and says." Briefly, Marjorie explained the
position that she and her chums had been forced into on the French
girl's account. "You may tell Miss Archer, too, if you will. I'd like
her to understand the situation."
"You girls have a hard task on your hands," was Veronica's grim comment.
"I've seen that sort of reform tried so many times in---- Well, I've seen
it tried. It always fails. Perhaps I'm speaking too harshly for one in
my humble position." She flashed Marjorie one of her strange smiles.
"It is right for you to say whatever you think," Marjorie made honest
response. Inwardly, she decided that Veronica grew daily more baffling.
For a girl who had been brought up in such humble circumstances she was
astonishingly authoritative in her manner of speaking. Yet Marjorie
could not help but admire her dauntless spirit of independence.
"You think me a queer girl, don't you?" challenged Veronica. "Never
mind. Some day you'll learn to know and understand me better. About your
club," she went on hastily as though anxious to lead Marjorie's
attention away from herself, "I must refuse positively to belong to it.
It would create trouble from the start. You have enough complications to
manage as it is. I may have seemed unfeeling to you about Miss La Salle,
but since I know more of the circumstances, I must say that I sincerely
hope you may help her to find her better self. Look out, though, that
she doesn't spread a web for your feet."
With this warning ringing in her ears, Marjorie left her new friend to
continue on her way home to luncheon and entered at her own gate. Over a
week had elapsed since the seven girls had congregated at Sargent's and
made their first attempt toward forming the Lookout Club. During that
time all the other prospective members had been interviewed and with the
exception of Veronica had heartily fallen in with the plan. This was the
second time that Marjorie had invited the former to join the club. She
was distinctly disappointed at Veronica's firm refusal, yet she knew
that the girl had spoken wisely when she had remarked that her advent
into the club would be sure to create a disturbance on Mignon's part.
Privately, Marjorie would not have been specially grieved if Mignon,
instead of Veronica, had been the one to refuse to join. On the
contrary, the French girl readily accepted the invitation.
Although Marjorie could not know it, Mr. La Salle had recently stumbled
upon a letter from Rowena to Mignon among those in his morning mail.
Unluckily for Mignon, it had drifted there quite by mistake. The
postmark plainly revealing its source, he had sent for Mignon, forced
her to identify the writing on the envelope and destroyed it unopened
before her very eyes. Then he had taken her severely to task for it.
Mignon had craftily pretended innocence, boldly assuring her father that
she was astonished to think that Rowena Farnham would dare write to her.
Partially convinced by her eager protestations, Mr. La Salle had made
Mignon sit down and write Rowena a curt note, which he dictated,
informing her that she, Mignon, refused absolutely to hold any further
communication whatever with her. It may be stated that although he also
attended to the mailing of that particular letter, he had nothing
whatever to do with a second much longer epistle written by Mignon to
Rowena in school the next day and surreptitiously mailed to her by
special delivery.
Following on the heels of this dire calamity to Mignon's peace of mind
had come Marjorie's invitation to join the Lookout Club. Mignon had
hailed it as a timely aid toward restoring her father's doubtful
confidence in herself, and accepted the invitation with alacrity. That
she had done wisely was soon made manifest. Mr. La Salle was delighted
when she casually informed him of the fact, and immediately promised to
buy her an expensive gold vanity case, for which she had previously
teased him without avail. Secretly, Mignon was highly pleased with
herself. Rowena had always impressed it upon her that she must not
scruple to use others to gain her own ends. She felt that in thus using
Marjorie's invitation to appease her father's wrath, she had indeed
managed very diplomatically. As for the letter, her father had forced
her to write Rowena, Mignon knew it would be of no more consequence to
her friend than so much blank paper. Rowena was too shrewd not to guess
that Mr. La Salle was the motive power behind it.
Marjorie's views on the subject of Mignon, however, were not optimistic.
At luncheon that day she was very quiet. Veronica's warning still lurked
in her brain. It was a queer situation she reflected. She had fought
valiantly to make Mignon a member of the club, while all the time she
was dreading the thought of it. On the contrary, she wished earnestly
for Veronica to become a member, yet she had hardly protested against
her refusal to join. Why was it, she pondered, that one's duty was
hardly ever pleasant? Why did it so often require one to put aside the
nice things and keep the disagreeable ones?
"What makes you so quiet, Lieutenant?" was her mother's solicitous
question as Marjorie began a listless eating of a favorite dessert which
she usually hailed with acclamation.
"Oh, I was thinking about the club. Veronica won't join it on account of
Mignon. She thinks if she did that Mignon would make it disagreeable for
all of us. Of course, she is right, yet it seems dreadfully unfair to
her for me to accept that view of it. Just because I made that promise
to Mr. La Salle, I am obliged to consider Mignon's welfare above
Veronica's. It's too provoking!"
"If I felt that way about it, I would go to Mr. La Salle and ask him to
release me from that promise," was her mother's tranquil advice. "If you
lack the spirit of helpfulness, then you can hardly expect to be truly
helpful. I don't mean that as censure, Lieutenant. You know my personal
views on the subject of Mignon. I am merely suggesting it as an open
road out of your difficulty."
"That is almost what Connie said to Jerry when we first talked of having
the club, and Jerry objected to my asking Mignon to become a member. I
stood up for Mignon then. Now I almost wish I hadn't. Still I know it
was right to do it, so I must stand by my colors. Veronica and I
understand each other. She knows that she is welcome to join the club,
no matter what Mignon may think. Still, I know that if I coaxed her
every day for a week she wouldn't change her mind about it. It's just
another of those miserable vicissitudes, and I shall have to accept it
as such and try to meet it like a good soldier. I couldn't go to Mr. La
Salle and ask him to release me from my promise. I'd be a deserter from
the army. That reminds me, Captain, may the club hold its first meeting
here to-morrow evening after dinner? I'd like it ever so much if you
have no objections. You know that means eats. Such a worthy organization
can't conduct a business session without a reward afterward." Marjorie's
brown eyes danced mischievously.
"I shall feel highly honored," laughed her mother, "and will take it
upon myself to see that the worthy organization is lavishly rewarded.
How many girls will be here?"
"Fourteen, counting your grateful lieutenant," informed Marjorie.
Finishing her dessert in a hurry, she sprang from her chair and
fervently embraced her mother. "You are positively splendiferous,
Captain," she cried. "If I came and told you that I wanted to invite the
whole four classes of Sanford High to this house to a party, you'd say
'yes.'"
"I doubt it," returned her mother with twinkling eyes. "Deliver me from
any such invasion!"
"Oh, I am not going to try it," Marjorie laughingly assured. "That was
merely an extravagance of speech. Miss Flint continually warns us
against using extravagant language. But there are times when it's
extravagantly necessary. Are you sure you won't mind letting us have the
living room for our meeting? I'd have it upstairs in my house, only we'd
be rather crowded."
"No; Lieutenant, I am willing to resign all claim to it for the evening.
Mrs. Macy and I have a call to make on that poor man who was hurt so
badly in that boiler explosion last week. I understand that he and his
family are greatly in need of help. You will have to play hostess alone,
as I am going to motor over for Mrs. Macy directly after dinner. I'll
arrange with Delia this afternoon for refreshments for the club."
"Thank you a million times, Captain." With a final vigorous hug and a
resounding kiss, Marjorie made a hop, skip and jump exit from the dining
room. A twinkle of amusement lurked in her mother's eyes as through the
wide doorway she watched her active daughter cross the hall and enter
the living room to put in the fifteen minutes' piano practice after
luncheon, which formed a part of the busy lieutenant's daily program.
The last mail of the morning had been productive of a letter for
Marjorie from Mary Raymond. Mrs. Dean had placed it on the rack above
the keyboard directly in front of Marjorie's open exercise book, with a
view toward giving her a pleasant surprise.
That she had succeeded was immediately evidenced by the jubilant little
cry which proceeded from the living room. As she had confidently
expected, no sounds of practice arose from the neglected piano during
the next fifteen minutes. Duty had succumbed to the fascinating wiles of
Mary Raymond. As usual, Mary's letter covered many closely-written pages
of note paper. She had much to tell of the glories of her far western
home. She hoped that next summer Marjorie could surely make her the long
visit which she had been unable to pay her that year. She was trying her
best to be a good soldier. The Magic Shield of Valor had protected her
more than once during her school life of the previous year. There were a
number of very snobbish girls in the senior class at school, of which
she was now a member. One of them reminded her a little of Mignon La
Salle. She was a new girl in school whose father owned one of the
largest ranches in the state. So far this new girl had been very nice to
her, but she had made up her mind to be very cautious about rushing into
too-ready friendship with her.
"You see," Mary wrote, "I've had one severe lesson of that sort. I don't
need another. By the way, how is Mignon behaving toward you since school
began? I can't make myself believe that she has really changed. If I
were you, Lieutenant, I would keep a safe distance from her. She is
likely to turn and snap at you when you least expect it. It must be a
relief to you girls to know that Rowena Farnham won't be a pupil of
Sanford High this year. It wouldn't surprise me, though, if she and
Mignon were friends still on the sly. They are a well-matched pair, and,
therefore, hard to separate."
Marjorie smiled ruefully as she read Mary's uncomplimentary opinion of
the French girl and her wise conclusion regarding Mignon and Rowena.
Mary Raymond had never forgiven Mignon her transgressions; moreover, she
never would forgive her. She wondered what Mary would think when she
wrote her chum the information that Mignon had been invited to join the
Lookout Club. Mary's forceful warning against the latter did not tend to
lighten the perplexed lieutenant's own lively apprehension. Suppose her
own insistence that they keep their promise to Mr. La Salle were to
later enmesh both herself and her friends in some difficult web of
Mignon's spinning? Given that this could easily happen, it might take
the greater part of their senior year to extricate themselves from it.
On the other hand, membership in the club might have a highly beneficial
effect on Mignon. Marjorie fervently hoped that it would. At any rate
she had pleaded that Mignon should be asked to become a member of the
club, and come what might, she must abide by the consequence of her own
act.