The next evening found the Deans' living room in the possession of an
ardent band of organizers, all bent on organization. A double row of
chairs had been placed at one end of the pretty room, giving it a most
business-like appearance. The long library table had been moved to the
extreme opposite end, thus allowing sufficient free standing space
before the rows of chairs for whomever should be chosen to conduct the
meeting.
"It's eight o'clock, girls," announced Jerry Macy from the midst of a
group comprising Muriel, Harriet, Susan and Esther Lind. As though in
direct corroboration of her speech, the tall clock in the hall began a
majestic intoning of the hour. "Much obliged for agreeing with me,"
commented Jerry with a waggish nod toward the kindly-disposed timepiece.
"It's evident that I'm some little important person. Even the furniture
in this house likes me."
"Of course it does," smiled Constance Stevens, who had approached the
group just in time to hear Jerry's droll remark. "How could it help
itself?"
"Them's my sentiments, too," retorted Jerry modestly, "only I hated to
praise myself too much. But forget it. I mean, give Jeremiah's manifold
virtues a rest. Let's get busy. Ladies and no gentlemen, take your seats
and the show will begin." Jerry raised her voice in a stentorian call:
"Our esteemed hostess, Marjorie Dean, will address this noisy throng as
soon as she can make herself heard."
"I wish you would do the talking, Jerry," pleaded Marjorie. Her glance
suddenly straying to the rows of chairs on which the girls were
disposing themselves, she exclaimed: "We can't begin the meeting yet.
Mignon isn't here. I knew someone was missing, but I couldn't say who."
"Oh, bother!" the ejaculation slipped out before Jerry could check it.
"Well, sit down, all of you, just the same. Mignon will be here. She
told Marjorie that she would." Under her breath she muttered: "I hope it
doesn't take her all evening to get here."
Hardly had Marjorie recognized the fact of Mignon La Salle's absence,
when the loud whir of the electric doorbell proclaimed her arrival.
"Good evening," she greeted, as Marjorie ushered her into the hall. "I
am sorry to be so late. An unexpected circumstance arose to delay me."
Mignon did not add, however, that the true cause of her delay was a
letter from Rowena Farnham, in which the writer of it rated her
scathingly for allowing the letter she had written to fall into Mr. La
Salle's hands. It had quite upset Mignon and put her distinctly out of
humor with the idea of the meeting at Marjorie's home. In consequence
she had sulked in her room in solitary grandeur, and finally decided to
go to the meeting merely for the sake of tantalizing Rowena by writing
her a defiant account of it afterward.
"Oh, you aren't really late," excused Marjorie courteously. "We knew
you'd soon be with us, so we waited for you. I see by your hatless
condition that you drove here in your runabout. Come into the living
room, Mignon, and take your place in joiner's row."
With a patronizing smile, which she blindly believed to be the acme of
graciousness, Mignon followed Marjorie into the living room and seated
herself on one of the two vacant chairs in the front row. As she greeted
her companions her elfish black eyes kept up the usual incessant roving
from face to face.
"Go ahead, Marjorie," Jerry ordered as she slipped into the remaining
vacant chair. "It's up to you. I'm no orator."
"Girls," rang out Marjorie's clear tones, "some of you know quite a
little bit more about this club idea than others. So I'd better tell you
everything from the very beginning." Briefly, she related what had
transpired among the seven seniors on the afternoon they had visited
Sargent's. This accomplished she continued: "So you see we haven't done
much as yet except choose a name and decide what our object is to be.
First let me ask you: Have any of you another name that you think would
be better than the 'Lookout Club?'"
Emphatic approval forthcoming for the name already selected, she went
on: "You must understand that the object of this club is purely to help
anyone or any good cause we can. We must always be on the lookout with
that purpose in view. At first we can't do much. Later we may do a good
deal. But whatever our hands find to do, we must do it with our might.
If the club proves a success, then we can pass it on to the next senior
class of Sanford High. I believe it would make us all very glad some day
to be able to say that we founded the first sorority in our high school.
It seems strange to me that there has never been one in Sanford High. At
Franklin High, the school I had just entered before I came to Sanford to
live, there were several sororities. It would be splendid if we could
call ourselves the founders of one at Sanford High.
"That is about all I can say regarding the object of our club. What we
ought to do first this evening is to elect our officers. As there are
only fourteen of us in the club, we don't need many officers. A
president, vice-president, secretary and treasurer will be enough. For
president, I wish to nominate Jerry Macy. Are there any other
nominations for that office? As there are so few of us we might as well
make the election a strictly informal affair. Afterward we can conform
to the usual method of club procedure."
"I nominate Marjorie Dean for president," put in Jerry quickly.
"I refuse the nomination." Marjorie smilingly shook her head. "I shall
not accept an office. I prefer to be just a member."
"I think Jerry would make a fine president," said Harriet Delaney with
emphasis.
"But I----" began Jerry.
"Are there any further nominations?" interrupted Marjorie mischievously.
"I don't want to be president." Jerry's protesting voice alone broke the
silence.
"I second the nomination," declared Rita Talbot.
Paying no attention to the protest, Marjorie continued: "It has been
regularly moved and seconded that Jerry Macy become president of the
Lookout Club. Those in favor of the motion please respond by rising."
Twelve girls immediately stood up. Jerry alone remained seated, scowling
ferociously.
"I declare Jerry Macy to be president of the Lookout Club," stated
Marjorie. "Don't look so cross about it, Jerry. You can't help yourself.
Come up here now and show us how nicely you can conduct the rest of the
election."
"Not for mine. I mean not to-night," amended Jerry hastily. "I won't
decline to be president, because I am no quitter. If you girls are
determined to have me for that high and mighty office, I'll do my best
to fill it. Still, I must say I don't admire your taste."
A general laugh went up at this naïve speech of acceptance. Only one
girl did not smile. In her secret heart Mignon was not in favor of the
stout girl for president. She had voted for her merely because she did
not wish to be the only one on the contrary side.
"Since Jerry refuses to begin her duties to-night, I'll let her off for
just once," asserted Marjorie playfully. "We will now consider the
office of vice-president. Nominations are in order."
"I move that we nominate Muriel Harding for vice-president," volunteered
Daisy Griggs.
Susan Atwell instantly seconded the nomination. The matter was then put
to vote and Muriel was unanimously elected to the honor of the
vice-presidency.
"Nominations for treasurer are now in order," announced Marjorie. Her
color deepened a trifle as she spoke. This particular part of the
election did not appeal to her. Both she and Jerry had encountered
sturdy opposition when they had privately interviewed their friends
regarding their proposal to make Mignon treasurer of the club. In the
end they had won a concerted though reluctant consent to the project.
Marjorie now felt a trifle anxious for fear ample time for reflection
might have caused one or more of them to alter their decision.
"I nominate Mignon La Salle for the office of treasurer." Constance
Stevens' low, sweet voice cut the silence.
"I second the motion," came reassuringly from Irma Linton.
Marjorie flashed her a quick, grateful glance. Irma Linton, too, could
always be depended on to do the right thing at the right moment. Her
gaze resting next on Mignon, she was inwardly amused at the expression
of blank amazement that overspread the French girl's sharp features.
Mignon had, indeed, been treated to a pleasant surprise. A gleam of
intense triumph shone in her large, black eyes when a moment later
twelve girls loyally rose to their feet in response to Marjorie's
mechanically-stated request.
Was it really true that she, Mignon La Salle, had actually been
nominated by Constance Stevens and chosen by the girls whom she
privately scorned to fill an important office in the club? It looked as
though at last they were beginning to come to their senses. Possessed of
an overweening vanity, Mignon smilingly accepted her election to the
post of treasurer as a distinct compliment to herself. Far from being
grateful for it, she regarded it purely as a step toward the popularity
which she had ever craved. It also gave her a thrill of malicious joy to
discover in her hands an efficient means of arousing Rowena's jealousy.
How greatly she would enjoy writing Rowena the news, and how furious
Rowena would be! A mocking smile touched her red lips as she gleefully
anticipated Rowena's rage.
Engaged in rapt meditation of this desirable consummation, Mignon did
not realize that a pair of shrewd eyes had marked that smile and
translated it with surprising accuracy. "I'll bet you my hat she's
wondering how Rowena will take it," was Jerry Macy's astute conclusion.
A surmise which seemed indeed to point to the truth of Jerry's frequent
assertion that she "knew everything about everybody."