Marjorie was just putting on her hat preparatory to setting out for
school, when Jerry Macy walked in at the open front door. "Thought I'd
stroll over for you," she announced. "I might better say fly than
stroll. I ran nearly all the way here so as to be sure to catch you at
home." Jerry's very manner betokened the fact that she had something on
her mind.
"I'm glad you came, Jerry. Captain says we can have the meeting here
to-morrow evening. I wish you'd help me invite the girls. I'll tell
Lucy, Rita, Florence, Gertrude and--Mignon. I think I'd better invite
them myself as long as the meeting is to be at my house. You can tell
the others. But we mustn't stand here to talk. It's after one o'clock
now." Seizing her hat, Marjorie hastily slipped it over her curls and
the two left the house.
"I'll cheerfully invite anyone except Mignon," stipulated the stout
girl. "Is Veronica coming?" They had now started down the street toward
the high school.
"No." Marjorie's face clouded. "She refuses to join our club."
"Isn't that too bad?" deplored Jerry in deep disgust. "I suppose it's on
account of Mignon that she won't belong to the club. I can't say I blame
her much. Daisy Griggs told me this morning that Mignon said she
wouldn't be seen associating with a menial like that Browning girl.
Isn't that the limit? No apology for using slang, either. I mean what I
say. There's just one thing about it, Marjorie, we'll have to do
something to stop Mignon from making such malicious remarks about
Veronica. All morning I kept thinking about what Daisy had said. While I
was eating luncheon an idea popped into my head. We might as well make a
special rule along with the regular club rules that the members must
pledge themselves not to gossip or say hateful things about anyone. All
the girls except Mignon will live up to it, I know. I've thought of
another way, too, to keep her from gossiping. You'll think I've surely
gone crazy when I tell you. Yet there's some method in my madness."
"What is it?" asked Marjorie curiously. She could think of no effectual
method of sealing Mignon's wayward lips.
"Well, the best thing to do with Mignon is to elect her to an office in
the club. Then she won't dare to do anything but behave herself. The
eyes of the club will be on her all the time. She'll just have to walk a
chalk line. She'll do it, too. You know how well she behaved when Laurie
gave her back her part in the operetta last Spring. She loves power and
position. Make her an officer in the club and she'll walk softly for
fear of putting out her own bright light. What do you think about it,
anyway?"
"It's a good plan," was Marjorie's unhesitating answer. "I don't believe
it would be wise to have her for president, though, or even
vice-president."
"No, she'll have to be secretary or treasurer," declared Jerry quickly.
"In a club of fourteen, four officers will be about as many as we shall
need."
"But suppose the girls don't care to vote for her?" Tardy remembrance of
this obstacle now confronted Marjorie.
"Oh, it will have to be a cut-and-dried election as far as Mignon is
concerned." Jerry grinned cheerfully as she made this bald statement.
"You and I will have to do some electioneering. I'll interview one half
of the girls and leave the other half to you. We'd better decide now on
the office she's to have," she added with the judicial air of a seasoned
politician.
"We might propose her for treasurer," said Marjorie after a moment's
reflection. "Very likely we won't have much money at first, but it would
make her feel more important to take care of it than to be secretary and
just set down the minutes of the different meetings."
"All right, we'll see to it that she is elected treasurer. I expect it
will be _some_ surprise to her. I hope to goodness she appreciates it
enough to behave like a Christian. If she doesn't, you can blame me for
the whole thing."
"It will be just as much my fault as yours if the plan doesn't work out
well. It's rather queer, Jerry, but just before you came I was wondering
whether I had done right after all in proposing Mignon as a member of
the Lookouts. I had just decided that I had, when you came and proved it
to me by proposing that we elect her to an office in the club. It looks
as though there were some hidden influence at work, far greater than we
are, which is urging us on to help her find herself. Who knows how
wonderfully our little plot may turn out after all?"
"You might better say, 'Who knows _how_ our little plot may turn out?'"
grumbled Jerry. "It reminds me of a problem in algebra. Let X equal the
unknown quantity, or rather let Mignon equal the unknown quantity. But
let us once more be reformers or die in the attempt. We've started the
ball rolling, so we'll have to run along behind it and see that it keeps
on rolling in the right direction."
Their entrance into the school building cut the earnest conversation
short. Marjorie left Jerry in the corridor and went on alone to Miss
Archer's office to apprise Lucy Warner of the new project and that the
first meeting of the club was to take place at her home on the following
evening. There was a distinct tinge of reserve in the green-eyed girl's
greeting, which informed Marjorie that Lucy was still slightly peeved
over the incident of the lost letter. Diligent inquiry had failed to
bring forth any news of it. It was now over a week since Marjorie had
lost it, and there seemed small chance that it would materialize at this
late date.
"I have an invitation to deliver to you, Lucy," was Marjorie's frank
address. "Can you come to my house to-morrow evening after dinner? A
number of other girls will be there, too. We are going to organize a
club, and we should like to have you belong to it."
For a moment Lucy regarded the winsome face before her with scowling
indecision. She was very fond of Marjorie, yet she still cherished a
slight resentment toward her. The friendly light in the other girl's
brown eyes, however, filled her with an overwhelming sense of shame for
her own stubbornness. Her wrinkled forehead suddenly cleared and she
said contritely: "I hope you'll forgive me, Marjorie, for being so
hateful to you about that old letter. I am sorry. Please forget that it
ever happened. It is sweet of you to ask me to belong to your club. I'd
love to come to your house to-morrow night, and I surely will. Thank you
for asking me."
Marjorie's lovely face broke into smiles. "Thank you for saying you'll
come," she nodded brightly. "The meeting is to begin at eight o'clock.
Come over earlier if you can. I must hurry along now. It's almost
half-past one."
"I'll be there before eight," assured Lucy. Her uncompromising manner
had vanished, and her stolid features shone with renewed good will.
As Marjorie hurried toward the senior locker room to dispose of her hat
before entering the study hall, she felt as though a sudden weight had
been lifted from her shoulders. It was not only her own remorse at
losing the letter which had troubled her. Lucy's frosty attitude had
belonged strictly to the embittered Observer. Having successfully
dragged her out of that rut, Marjorie had deplored that she should be
the one to shove poor Lucy back into it again. It was vastly comforting
to her to find that the Observer had not risen again to dominate Lucy
Warner.