Marjorie started down the hall on her difficult errand, wondering what
to say first to Gussie Forbes. She hoped Miss Hart would answer the
door. Were Gussie to do so she might easily close the door in her
caller's face. Having something of importance to say, Marjorie was
anxious to say it and close the subject.
She knocked twice before an answer came. When the door opened, she found
herself looking into the frowning face of _l'enfant terrible_. Before
Gussie could close the door, had she intended to do so, Marjorie spoke
with pretty impulsiveness.
"May I come in for a few moments, Miss Forbes? I wish particularly to
see you."
For answer Gussie merely opened the door wider and stood aside for
Marjorie to pass her. She thought she understood the nature of the call.
Miss Dean had come to tell her she was no longer a member of the
freshman team. Well, she was not afraid to face this senior who had made
fun of her on sight.
"Will you have a chair?" she said formally, closing the door and coming
forward until she stood directly in front of her caller.
"Thank you." Marjorie sat down, her brown eyes fixed on her reserved
hostess. There was a world of kindness in their beautiful depths which
Gussie could not overlook. She reluctantly sprang to the conclusion:
"She's sorry for me. She wants to let me down easily."
"I have brought with me a letter, Miss Forbes. I should like you to read
it. It displeased the sports committee very much. I beg of you not to
take it to heart. It is not worth one minute's discomfort on your part."
Gussie accepted the letter in wonder. This explanation of Marjorie's did
not tally with what she had expected the senior would say. A bright
flush mantled her checks as she read it.
"They threatened to do this," she said dully as she returned the letter
to Marjorie. "I play basket ball fairly. I am not rough, either. I had a
fuss with a girl on the scrub team yesterday. The rest of our team stood
up for her instead of me. I would have resigned before this, only I like
to play basket ball. I saw no reason why I should give up my position."
"There is no reason why you should not play," warmly returned Marjorie.
"No one could play a fairer game than you. Our committee have watched
and admired your playing. All four of us used to play on the college
teams. So we know a star player when we see one. Only lately we all saw
that you were not being fairly treated. We had decided to put an end to
such unfairness when I received this letter. I have seen the others on
the sports committee. They are of the same mind as myself. We shall see
that justice is done you."
Augusta's face had begun to clear as Marjorie talked. It brightened with
each succeeding word. She forgot her earlier grudge against the other
girl. She was hearing herself appreciated and it was very sweet to her.
"If these four players on the freshman team," Marjorie continued,
"refuse to be amicable on the floor, the sports committee will demand
_their_ resignations. We have the authority to do so and shall use it if
necessary. It is our aim to have only pleasantness in connection with
basket ball. Friendly rivalry between teams and harmony among the
members of each team. That is the only basis on which to conduct college
sports. I have seen it tried the other way, and it doesn't pay."
"If they resigned, then there wouldn't be any freshman team," stammered
Gussie, thinking instantly of this dire calamity.
"Oh, yes there would," Marjorie assured with a friendly laugh. "You
would be center on a new team. Your position on the freshman team is
safe. Please understand that, Miss Forbes. The other freshmen may find
theirs shaky."
Gussie stared at Marjorie with wide, solemn eyes. "I did not know you
were like this," she blurted. "What was the matter with me that I
misjudged you so? I thought you and Miss Macy made fun of me on the
first evening we were at Hamilton."
"Miss Macy made some funny remarks about the noise you were all making
and about you being freshies," Marjorie felt impelled to confess, "but
she did not intend to be ill-natured. We laughed, because, Jeremiah, as
we call her, is almost always funny."
"You will never forgive me," was Gussie's shame-faced prognostication.
"The girls told me I had made a mistake. I wouldn't listen to them. I
don't deserve your kindness to me, Miss Dean. When Miss Hurst said she
was going to have me dropped from the team, I thought you would be glad
of an excuse to drop me. So you can see for yourself what a horrid,
suspicious person I am."
For answer Marjorie laughed merrily. "I think you are very honest and
straightforward," she differed. "I am not sorry this letter was written.
It has brought us an understanding of each other which should lead to
friendship. If I were in your place, Miss Forbes, I would go on working
on the team precisely as though nothing had happened. I shall write Miss
Hurst this evening. I imagine after she receives my letter she will stop
this annoying persecution. That is what it amounts to."
After a little further conversation with the now placated Gussie,
Marjorie shook hands with her and left her in a beatified state of mind.
"There is nothing truer than that old proverb, 'It's an ill wind that
blows no one good,'" was Marjorie's salutation as she entered her room.
"By rights I should send Miss Hurst a note of thanks for putting me on
good terms with Miss Forbes."
Marjorie's gay utterance was indicative of the success of her errand.
She was genuinely happy over the change in Augusta Forbes toward
herself. Had Gussie been one of whom her upright mind could not truly
approve, she would not have been annoyed at the freshman's
misunderstanding of her. Knowing the stubborn girl to be sterling at
heart, it had hurt Marjorie to be thus misjudged. It had hurt her still
more to know that Augusta saw Jerry in a false light
"I notice you weren't extinguished," commented Jerry, her eyes resting
with fond humor upon her pretty chum. "Tell me about it."
Marjorie complied with the request. She finished with: "I explained a
little about that night we saw her at Baretti's; assured her we weren't
making fun of her. I asked her to come and see us soon. She said she
would. She will know, after she has talked with you about five minutes,
Jeremiah, that you are the best old treasure that ever was."
"Am I so wonderful as all that? Dear me!" Jerry simpered, raising her
chubby hands in mock surprise.
"Yes, you are, and you know it." Marjorie made an affectionate little
rush at Jerry and caught her around the waist. In the absence of Captain
and General, she sometimes treated Jerry to these sudden, playful proofs
of her affection. Nothing pleased Jerry more.
"I won't have time to write an answer to Miss Hurst's note," she said,
glancing at the clock. "I'll do it directly after dinner and mail it
before eight-thirty. There is a mail collection at nine. I want it to
reach her tomorrow morning. I shall attend practice tomorrow afternoon
and see that Miss Forbes has fair play." The determined glint in
Marjorie's eyes spelled justice to the injured party.
Marjorie did not linger at the dinner table that evening. She hastened
upstairs the moment she had eaten dessert and set to work at the letter.
Her fountain pen poised thoughtfully over the paper, she considered Miss
Hurst's note for a brief season. Then she wrote:
"Dear Miss Hurst:
"Your letter received. In justice to Miss Forbes I would say that
her case has been under observation of the sports committee for the
past week. The findings are these--she is a fine and honorable
player, conforming to the rules of basket ball in every respect. She
is not a disturber, in any sense, and the sports committee must
refuse to countenance unfair reports against her. I find her
scrupulously truthful. The committee have not been pleased with the
churlish treatment which has been accorded Miss Forbes by the other
members of the team. We would advocate a marked change on the part
of yourself and your team-mates in this direction. Personal spite
makes poor team work.
"Yours sincerely,
"Marjorie Dean,
"Chairman Sports Committee."
"There!" she exclaimed, as she addressed an envelope to Alma Hurst at
Acasia House. "That unpleasant labor is out of the way."
"Let me read it?" begged Jerry. "You need my official criticism."
"Read it, then. You don't allow me to have any secrets from you,"
Marjorie complained in feigned vexation.
"No indeed," emphasized Jerry. "Good work," she approved, having read
the letter. "The real straight-from-the-shoulder variety. That ought to
give pause to the Amalgamated Sorehead Society. That's a fine name for
them. I shall tell it to Gloomy Gus when she and I grow to be bosom
friends."
"Better not," warned Marjorie, breaking into laughter. "She is quite
capable of hurling it at them in a moment of wrath. Don't furnish her
with ammunition. She is a handful, all by herself."
Drawing on her fur coat, for the evening was snappy with frost, Marjorie
went bareheaded out of the Hall and across the campus, diagonally to the
nearest mail-box. About to cross the main drive on the return to the
house, she stood aside for a passing car. The glare of an arc light over
the drive picked out plainly the faces of the two occupants of the car.
They did not note her, she being in the shadow.
"Oh-h!" a soft little breath of surprise escaped her. She remained in
the shadow watching the car. It stopped in front of Wayland Hall. One of
the occupants, Elizabeth Walbert, left the car and hurried up the steps
of the Hall. The car turned in the open space before the house, darted
away instantly. It shot past Marjorie at high speed. This time she
hardly glimpsed the driver's face. She had already recognized it,
however, as that of Leslie Cairns. She had not withdrawn into the shadow
for the purpose of spying upon the two girls. She had merely preferred
not to encounter them. She resolved to tell no one of having seen Leslie
on the campus. She could not refrain from wondering at the ex-senior's
temerity, in thus invading a territory now forbidden to her.