Having committed themselves to the unenviable duty of censorship,
neither Marjorie nor Jerry had any intention of wavering in the
performance of it. The following Monday they met and agreed to pay
Mignon a call that evening. They also agreed not to announce to her
beforehand their purposed visit to her. It would be wisest to hazard the
chance of finding her at home.
Their hearts beat a trifle faster, however, when at eight o'clock that
evening they proceeded up the wide stone walk leading to the La Salles'
veranda. In just what fashion Mignon, were she at home, would receive
the counsel they had decided must be imparted to her, was something
which they could not foretell.
"Br-rr!" shivered Jerry as Marjorie pressed the electric bell. "I hope
she isn't at home."
"I don't." Marjorie spoke firmly. "I'd rather see her to-night and have
it over with."
The opening of the door by a maid cut short further conversation between
them. She ushered them into the drawing room with the information that
"Miss Mignon" was at home. Inviting them to be seated, she disappeared
to acquaint the French girl with their arrival.
Hardly had they seated themselves when the sound of Mignon's voice
raised in sharp question floated down to them from the head of the wide
hall staircase. Followed the patter of light descending feet, announcing
to them that the dread moment was approaching.
"Good evening." Mignon's black brows lifted themselves ironically as she
beheld her unexpected callers. "This is really a surprise!" Her elfish
eyes roved challengingly from one girl to the other.
"Good evening, Mignon." Marjorie's calm salutation betrayed nothing of
her inner trepidation.
"How are you, Mignon?" was all Jerry said. She, too, had sensed
hostility in her hostess' satirical exclamation.
"I was taking a look at my French lesson for to-morrow when I heard the
door-bell. French, of course, is very easy for me. I need hardly to
glance at a lesson before I know it." Mignon's sharp chin raised itself
a trifle as she made this boast.
"Yes; you have the advantage of the rest of us," conceded Marjorie
honestly. "French is quite hard for me. The poetry is so difficult to
translate."
"Were you girls at the nursery this afternoon?" inquired Mignon suavely.
She was wondering mightily what had occasioned their call.
"No. It was Muriel's and Irma's turn to go this afternoon. Jerry and I
are to take ours on Friday. What afternoon are you to have, and which
one of the girls is to go with you? Irma has the list of names. I
haven't seen it," Marjorie added.
Mignon shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, I was asked to be on duty Thursday
afternoon. I didn't inquire who was to help me amuse those tiresome slum
youngsters." She tossed her head with elaborate unconcern. A scornful
smile played about her lips. "It really doesn't matter, though. I shall
not be there. I am going out of town on Wednesday evening and shall not
return until late Thursday night. I must tell Irma not to count on me
this week."
An awkward silence followed this announcement. Jerry frowned but held
her peace. Marjorie's brown eyes showed a faint sparkle of indignation.
Mignon's slighting reference to the nursery children angered her. No
trace of her displeasure lurked in her voice, however, as she said
evenly: "I am willing to take your place on Thursday, Mignon."
"Suit yourself." Mignon's shoulders again went into ready play. "I
imagine you girls will find that day nursery a white elephant. It will
cost the club more time and money than it is worth. It will keep the
Lookouts hustling to supply funds for it. The sum of money we now have
in the treasury won't last long at the rate it is being spent."
"We have thought of a way to put more money in our treasury," was
Marjorie's quiet assurance.
Jerry's round blue eyes focussed themselves upon her friend, amazement
in their depths. Surely Marjorie did not intend to put Mignon in
possession of the Campfire project before the rest of the Lookouts knew
it? Marjorie, however, had been visited by a swift flash of inspiration.
In view of the prospective Campfire, Mignon might receive the rebuke
about to be delivered in a more chastened spirit than she would
otherwise exhibit. She was not likely to cut off her nose to spite her
face.
"What do you mean?" Alert interest leaped into Mignon's face. "What is
your new plan?"
Marjorie outlined briefly the money-making scheme which Hal Macy had
conceived.
"And will there be a show every night?"
"Yes; Laurie Armitage is going to arrange a little revue."
"Is he really!" Mignon leaned forward, an eager figure of anticipation.
"Do you know who is to take part in it?"
"Nothing definite has been decided yet." Marjorie could scarcely repress
a smile. Mignon's question patently indicated what was in her mind.
"I wonder if he will ask----" Tardily realizing that she was betraying
undue eagerness, Mignon checked herself.
She had said enough, however, to give Marjorie the desired opportunity.
"I think Laurie ought to ask you to take part in his revue, Mignon. You
sang beautifully in the Rebellious Princess. I suppose he would rather
choose the girls for it from among the Lookouts. But he said last night
that he was going to be very sure that those he asked to help him would
work together without friction."
"Are you accusing me of being a trouble-maker?" Mignon sprang to her
feet, her black eyes snapping with anger. "I want you to understand----"
"Please allow me to go on with what I was about to say," came the
dignified interruption.
"I will not----" began Mignon. Her furious tone changing to one of
sullenness, she muttered, "Well, say it."
"I know you won't like to hear this, but it must be said. Laurie intends
to ask Veronica Browning to take part in the revue. She dances very
cleverly and is sure to please the audience. I know that you don't like
Veronica, simply because she is poor," Marjorie went on bravely. "I
know, too, that you have said unkind things about her to others. I have
learned that you circulated the report that she was paid to come to
Jerry's Hallowe'en party and dance. This was not the case. She offered
to dance at Jerry's of her own free will. She did not remain for the
party, simply because she did not wish to do so. If you take part in the
revue and Veronica agrees to be in it, too, then you will have to treat
her with courtesy and make no slighting remarks about her behind her
back. Should you do so, and were Laurie to hear of it, he would be very
angry."
"That for your servant girl!" Mignon snapped derisive fingers. "I shall
say whatever I please to her or about her."
"Then you are not a true Lookout," condemned Marjorie sternly. "Every
time you make an unkind remark about Veronica or in fact anyone else,
you are breaking the Golden Rule. We all promised to live up to it. As
an officer of the club, you are especially bound to do so. I came here
to-night on purpose to remind you of that promise. It is not fair in you
to lay the Lookouts open to censure. You are not playing fairly with
yourself, either."
"Thank you for your kind consideration of me," retorted Mignon in
shrill, furious tones. "I know just how sincere it is."
"It is sincere." Marjorie's low, harmonious accents contrasted sharply
with Mignon's high-pitched tones. "It has been hard for me to tell you
these things. I have done so because I am trying to warn you before it
is too late. Aside from Jerry and me there are only two other girls in
the club who would stand by you if you got into trouble through your own
mischief-making. The others would simply demand your resignation."
"You needn't count on me to stand by you, Mignon, if you keep up your
back-biting about Veronica," flashed Jerry. She had reached the limit of
silence. "I'd have asked you to resign before this if it hadn't been for
Marjorie. You make me tired. Why can't you let well enough alone? You're
an officer in the Lookouts. If you behave yourself you can shine in the
revue. You'll gain more by keeping your opinions of Veronica to
yourself."
Astonishment at this blunt advice tied Mignon's tongue for an instant.
Secretly she had always been afraid of plain-spoken Jerry Macy. The
stout girl had the disconcerting faculty of coming to the point with a
vengeance. Her arguments were too clinching to be easily refuted.
Marjorie's earnest speech had had small effect upon Mignon. Jerry had
outlined her shaky position in a few brusque words, the truth of which
struck home.
Having met her match, Mignon resorted to the world-old feminine
artifice. Flinging herself down on a brocade settee she burst into
tears. They were not tears of remorse; merely an outward expression of
baffled rage. Justly accused, she was overcome by the knowledge of her
own inability to clear herself.
Jerry eyed her with patent disgust. "Crocodile tears," was her
uncharitable thought. Marjorie, on the contrary, was moved to pity.
Rising, she crossed the room to where Mignon sat huddled on the settee,
her face hidden in her hands. Laying a gentle hand on the bowed
shoulders, Marjorie said soothingly: "Don't cry, Mignon. Please try to
think of Jerry and me as your friends. We have your interests at heart
as well as Veronica's. I am sure that if you will try to know her, you
will find her a delightful girl. No one knows that Jerry and I intended
to speak to you about her. No one will ever know. All I am asking you to
do is to give both yourself and Veronica a fair chance."
Mignon answered only with a fresh burst of sobs. This time they were not
genuine. Under pretence of weeping, her active mind was already at work,
endeavoring to decide what she had best do. To resign from the club
would profit her nothing. Once out of it, she would not only miss all
the good times in prospect, but also find herself completely out of
touch with the members. Far from accepting Marjorie's rebuke in the
spirit in which it had been offered, she now yearned for revenge upon
this priggish, goody-goody who had dared to remind her of her
shortcomings. Yet how could she retaliate if she deliberately cut
herself off from her intended victim? Taking a leaf from Rowena's book
she resolved to bring craft to her aid. She would pretend to fall in
with Marjorie's scheme of conduct. Afterward----
Raising her head with a jerk she said with well-simulated meekness: "I
believe you are right, Marjorie. Please give me another chance to show
you that I can be a true Lookout." With an air of deep penitence she
held out her hand to Marjorie.
"I am glad you can say that, Mignon." Marjorie's hand went out
instantly. "Now let us forget all about the disagreeable part. It has
been hard for all of us. There is just one thing more I'd like to say.
If after you have tried to like Veronica you find that you can't, then
no one will be to blame. We cannot expect others always to see our
friends as we see them. You have a perfect right to like or dislike
anyone you please. All I ask is----"
"I _will_ try to like her for your sake, Marjorie," Mignon interrupted
with deceitful sweetness. Immediately changing the subject, she began to
regale Marjorie with an account of a near accident she had had that day
while driving her runabout.
"I think we'd better go," Jerry announced sharply. She had had quite
enough of Mignon and was not impressed by the erring one's miraculous
repentance. She doubted its sincerity, and she could hardly refrain from
saying so. She had sat silent and uncompromising during the scene,
making no move toward offering a rehabilitating hand. Mignon's swift
change of the subject disgusted her even more. She understood the reason
for it if Marjorie did not.
Mignon sent a covert glance toward this stony-faced third party whom she
feared. She knew that Jerry was quite out of sympathy with her. She
longed to say something particularly cutting to the stout girl but
caution warned her to silence.
"Yes, we must go." Marjorie still stood beside the settee that held
Mignon. Now she turned to the latter who had made no move to rise and
again held out her hand. "Good night, Mignon," she said. "Don't forget
the club meeting to-morrow evening."
Reluctantly Mignon rose to perform the parting civilities which courtesy
demanded.
"Good night, Mignon." Jerry was already half way to the door when she
spoke.
"Good night." Mignon cast a spiteful look toward the stout girl.
Following her callers into the hall, she saw them to the door with
little enthusiasm. She was longing for them to go and could scarcely
forbear slamming the unoffending portal in their faces. Closing it
behind them with spiteful force, she clenched her hands in an excess of
passionate fury. "Idiots!" she raged. "How dared they come here and
humiliate me? They'll be sorry! Just wait!"
Half way down the walk the reform committee heard the slam of the door.
"Hear that?" asked Jerry savagely. "That's the real Mignon. Look out for
her. You made a mistake when you said what you did about her being free
to like or dislike Ronny. You gave her a chance to hit back."
"But I said afterward that all I asked of her was----" Marjorie stopped.
"Why, Jerry, I _didn't_ say the most important part of my sentence.
Mignon interrupted me. Then she began talking about her runabout and I
didn't finish it. I thought she changed the subject because she was
dreadfully embarrassed."
"Of course, she interrupted you." Jerry grew increasingly scornful. "She
knew you'd said just enough to be useful to her. She hasn't any
intention of trying to like Ronny. She'll treat her just the same as
ever. If you say anything about it to her again, she will laugh and
quote your own words to you. We might better have stayed at home for all
the good we've done."
"Don't borrow trouble, Jeremiah." Marjorie linked an affectionate arm in
Jerry's. "I think we've done a little good to-night. Mignon will be
careful what she says or does for a while. She doesn't care to resign
from the club, else she would have said so to-night. She wants to be in
the revue, too. Telling her what Laurie said sounded rather like
threatening her, but I had to do it."
"There is no cure for Mignon," stated Jerry shortly, "and this is the
last time I'll help play doctor. There's just one consolation, though.
Give her enough rope and she'll hang herself."