"Is there any new business to be brought before the club?" inquired
Muriel Harding in her most presidential manner.
The Lookouts were in august session in the Atwells' cozy living room,
which the mere members of the family, aside from Susan, had obligingly
vacated while the club held sway. Seated in a semi-circle that curved
the lower end of the large room, nine girls fixed attentive eyes on
Muriel, who occupied a wide-armed chair a few feet in front of them. At
a table on the right, Irma and Mignon were seated side by side. Her
interest centered on her account book, the latter did not trouble to
raise her eyes as Muriel spoke.
From the last right-hand chair in the circular row, Marjorie Dean rose.
"I wish to propose the name of Veronica Browning for membership into the
Lookout Club," she announced in low, clear tones.
A wavering sigh swept the semi-circle as Marjorie reseated herself. This
was, indeed, new business. Muriel Harding stared at Marjorie in mild
astonishment. All interest in her accounts vanished, Mignon La Salle
leaned forward over the table, her black eyes snapping. For a long
moment no one spoke.
"I second the motion." Harriet Delaney's firm accents shattered the
silence.
"It has been regularly moved and seconded," stated Muriel, "that
Veronica----"
"I rise to object." Mignon La Salle leaped rather than rose from her
chair, her face dark with protest. "I object seriously to admitting a
servant into membership of the Lookout Club."
"And _I_ rise to object against the word 'servant' as applied to my
friend Veronica Browning." Marjorie was again on her feet, her lovely
face set in stern lines. "There is no disgrace in being a servant," she
gravely rebuked. "It is the way in which the word has been spoken that
makes it objectionable. The club owes a great deal to Veronica. All of
you know how willingly she has offered us her services. We have gladly
accepted them. It now becomes us to ask her to honor us by joining our
club."
"Honor!" sneered Mignon, tossing her black head in disdain. "A very
queer sort of _honor_. I should term it disgrace. I will not have this
presuming kitchen maid in the club. Who knows what sort of parents she
has, or where she came from. She is sharp enough to make Miss Archer and
a few other persons believe that she is something wonderful, but she
can't fool me. No doubt she came from some third-rate, stranded
theatrical company. She has been very careful not to say a word about
herself to anyone. Marjorie Dean ought to be ashamed to propose that we
turn our club into a servants' hall."
With every word, Mignon's voice had risen. Caution thrown to the winds
she remembered nothing save her hatred against Veronica. Before she
could continue a babble of angry voices assailed her from all sides. The
dignified session of the Lookouts bade fair to end in an uproar of
rebuke hurled in noisy entirety at Mignon.
"Order!" shrieked Muriel, wildly waving her arms. "Stop it, girls. The
Atwells will think we've gone crazy."
Her energetic counsel brought the outraged belligerents into a knowledge
of where they were. Gradually they subsided into threatening murmurs
that ended in a much-needed but ominous quiet.
"Mignon, you are the one to be ashamed." Muriel bent severe eyes on the
storm-swept girl, who now sat with elbows propped upon the table,
glaring sullenly at her equally sulky opponents. "Veronica Browning is a
sweet, delightful, well-bred girl. I'm sorry I can't say the same of
you. If you don't care to be in the same club with her, you know what
you can do. You've caused us all to disgrace ourselves for the moment by
quarreling with you. I'm going to say what I started to say when you
began this fuss. You will please not interrupt me again."
"I will if I choose," flung back Mignon. "You'd be only too glad to have
me resign from the club. Well, I don't intend to do it until I get
ready. I've been a good treasurer and you can't complain of me. If
you----"
Muriel turned a deliberate back on the irate speaker. With dignified
composure she again stated: "It has been regularly moved and seconded
that Veronica Browning be admitted into membership of the Lookout Club.
Those in favor, please rise; contrary remain seated."
Ten determined girls were on their feet before Muriel had finished.
"No, no, no!" objected Mignon at the top of her voice.
"Carried." Muriel still kept an uncompromising back toward Mignon.
"I won't stand it!" Rising, Mignon seized her book and took a step or
two toward the door. Of a sudden she paused, as though clutched by an
invisible hand. Backing toward her chair she sat down, a curious
expression of malevolent resolve in her elfish eyes. Somewhat ashamed
of their own untimely outburst, her fellow members found themselves more
inclined toward pity than resentment. Though they cherished no liking
for their lawless companion, they were disposed to regard her display of
temper as that of an obstreperous child, allowed too long to have its
own way.
With the admission of Veronica to the club the business part of the
meeting closed, greatly to the relief of all concerned. Immediately
afterward, Mignon stalked haughtily from the living room, without a word
to anyone. Darting up the stairs to the room which Muriel had reserved
for her guests' use, she fairly flung herself into her coat and jammed
her fur cap down upon her black curls. Down the stairs she sped and out
of the house, announcing her departure by a reverberating slam of the
front door.
Divining her intention, Susan Atwell had followed her to the stairs,
determined to do her duty as hostess. When halfway up the flight, Mignon
had reappeared at the head of the staircase, descending with a hurricane
rush that precluded remark on Susan's part. Returning to the living room
she asked Muriel crossly: "What are we to do with her?"
"We'd better hold a second meeting and see," replied Muriel. "Girls,"
she raised her voice, "please come to order again. I've something to say
to you."
Gathered together at one end of the room, the group of girls promptly
obeyed. Resuming her position of authority, Muriel burst forth with,
"Something must be done about Mignon. I think she has forfeited her
right to membership. After what's happened to-night we can't allow her
to keep on being in the club. We must ask her to resign."
Seven voices at once rose in hearty agreement. Only Marjorie, Irma, and
Constance remained silent.
"With Mignon out of the club, Jerry will come back," reminded Harriet
Delaney eagerly. "Irma ought to write Mignon to-night and mail the
letter on the way home."
"That's my opinion," nodded Rita Talbot.
"Mine, too," sounded a faithful chorus.
"Perhaps we'd better wait until after the next meeting before taking
such action," argued Marjorie soberly. "Just now I feel sure that we
ought to ask for Mignon's resignation. Later I may not see it in that
light. My decision will depend largely on the way Mignon treats Veronica
at our next meeting. Her temper got the better of her to-night. Perhaps
we had better give her another chance."
"That would be a good test. We mustn't be too hasty," cautioned generous
Irma. "I believe with Marjorie that we should postpone our decision
until after next Thursday night's meeting. Then if we are still of the
same mind we shall feel that we have acted fairly."
"We've already been altogether too fair," sputtered Gertrude Aldine. "I
don't see why we should feel any hesitation about sending Mignon that
letter to-night. The sooner it's sent, the sooner we'll have Jerry with
us again."
"Jerry could be with us now, if she chose." Very quietly Constance
answered Gertrude's impetuous reminder. "We should not use Jerry as an
excuse for expelling Mignon from the club. We should consider only
whether Mignon has failed so utterly as a member that we must expel her
in self-defense. If we drive her out of the Lookouts, she will take it
as a direct admission that we are afraid of her; that eleven members
cannot stand together against one. If we prove loyal to our obligations,
what chance will she have against us? Once she realizes this, either she
will submit to what she can't change, or else she will resign from the
club of her own accord. Only a little more than three months is left us
of our senior year. Ought we to pass the name 'Lookouts' along to our
successors with the stain of an expelled member on it? That is also a
point to be considered."
"You and Marjorie and Irma are right, as usual," conceded Muriel Harding
vexedly. "I suppose we ought to follow your advice. Perhaps Mignon will
kindly take the matter out of our hands before then. Girls, are you
satisfied to abide by the counsel of the Three Wise Women of Sanford?"
she questioned humorously. "Has anyone any further serious objections?
If so, please rise."
Pure loyalty to Marjorie Dean alone kept every girl in her seat.
Although each respected the counsel of Constance and Irma, Marjorie's
wish now became her law. Her magnanimity of spirit was too great to be
overlooked. Yet in her heart each hoped that pride would force Mignon
into resigning from the Lookouts of her own free will before the week
ended.
Could the Lookouts have looked into Mignon La Salle's own room, at the
very moment in which they agreed upon a week's clemency, their fond hope
would have died a sudden death. Her door carefully locked against
parental intrusion, Mignon was rapidly penning a lengthy letter to
Rowena Farnham. Her thin lips curved themselves into a malicious smile
as her pen sped over the paper. It was late when she finished the
writing of it, and stole cat-footed down the front stairs and out of the
house to mail it. Having come to a standstill in her own capacity for
trouble-making, she had appealed for advice to one who could be depended
upon to give her fresh impetus.