Left to herself for a brief respite, Marjorie drew out the note and read
it. An expression of amused consternation flashed into her eyes as she
took in its spirit. Knowing the writing to be Muriel's she was now glad
she had stood her ground. Note writing was not forbidden in Sanford High
and never had been. Miss Merton alone, of all the teachers, strenuously
opposed it. To be sure, it was not regarded by them with special favor.
Nevertheless, in the class-rooms no one was ever taken to task for it
unless it seriously interfered with the recitation. Marjorie did not
know Miss Archer's views on the subject, but she believed her principal
too great-minded to cavil at such trifles.
The instant she had finished reading the note, she reduced it to
unreadable bits, leaving them in plain sight on her desk. Not by so much
as a backward glance did she betray the writer. Knowing Miss Merton to
be on the alert, she took no chances. Should the latter send her to Miss
Archer, she would very quickly express herself on the subject. As a
junior she believed that the time for treating her as a member of the
primary grade had long since passed.
It was not until she had effectually blocked all possibility of the note
falling into Miss Merton's possession that she remembered the try-out.
Her heart sank as she recalled what a lengthy, lonely stay in the study
hall meant. The try-out would go on without her. She would lose all
chance of obtaining a place on the junior team. Her changeful face paled
a trifle as she sadly accepted this dire disaster to her hopes. If only
Muriel had not written that note.
The first closing bell sent a tremor of despair to her heavy heart. She
wondered how long Miss Merton would detain her. She had said, "You will
stay here to-night until you give it to me." Even in the midst of
misfortune the edict took a humorous turn. She had a vision of herself
and Miss Merton keeping a lonely, all-night vigil in the study hall.
At the second bell the long lines of girls began a decorous filing down
the aisles to the great doors. Marjorie watched them go, vainly
pondering on why, thus far, her junior year had been so filled with
mishaps. A bad beginning sometimes made a good ending was her only
comforting reflection. She hoped that in her case it would prove true.
"Why are you staying, Miss Harding?" rasped forth Miss Merton when the
big room had at last emptied itself.
Marjorie faced about with a start. She had not reckoned on this. She
made a desperate sign to Muriel to go. Muriel merely shook an obstinate
head. Then she announced bravely, "I wrote that note to Miss Dean."
"Then you may remain in your seat," snapped the frowning teacher. "Miss
Dean, do you intend to give me that note?"
"I have destroyed it," came the calm reply.
"You are determined to defy me, I see. Very well, you may tell me the
contents of it. I saw you read it after I had returned to my desk."
"I have nothing to say," Marjorie replied with terse obstinacy.
"Miss Harding, _you_ may tell me what you wrote." Miss Merton suddenly
swung her attack from Marjorie to Muriel.
"I will not." Muriel spoke with hot decision. "Neither Miss Dean nor I
are grammar school children. I see no reason why we should be treated as
such. I think it very ridiculous, and I will not submit to it. You may
send me to Miss Archer if you like. I am quite ready to say to her what
I have just said to you."
As Muriel's challenge of defiance cut the storm-laden atmosphere, a most
unexpected thing happened. Almost as if the mere mention of her name had
served to bring her to the scene, Miss Archer walked into the study
hall. She had come in time to catch Muriel's last sentence, and her
quick faculties had leaped to conclusion.
"What is it that you are quite ready to say to me, Miss Harding?" was
her grave interrogation.
Miss Merton's sallow cheeks took on a lively tinge of red. She was not
specially anxious to bring Miss Archer into the discussion. Had the
recipient of the note been other than Marjorie Dean, she would have
allowed the incident to pass with a caustic rebuke. But her dislike for
the winsome girl was deep-rooted. She could never resist the slightest
opportunity to vent it publicly.
"I wrote a note to Miss Dean, Miss Archer," burst forth Muriel. "Miss
Merton asked Miss Dean for it and she wouldn't give it to her. So Miss
Merton said she must stay here until she did. Miss Dean tore the note
up. I stayed because I wrote it. Miss Merton says we must tell her what
was in that note. I won't do it. Neither will Marjorie. I just said that
I did not think we ought to be treated like grammar-school children. I
said, too, that I would be willing to say so to you, and I have."
Miss Archer's quizzical gaze traveled from Muriel's flushed face to
Marjorie's composed features. Here was, indeed, a problem in that
unknown quantity, girl nature. Miss Archer was too thoroughly acquainted
with the ways of girls not to comprehend what lay beneath this out and
out defiance of Miss Merton's commands. She understood, if Miss Merton
did not, or would not, the rather overdrawn sense of school-girl honor
which prompted the rebellion. She knew that except in extreme cases,
there was little to be obtained by using force. It was all too likely to
defeat its own object.
"The attitude of these two young women toward me is insufferable." Miss
Merton now took up a harsh stand. She did not intend the principal
should allow the matter to be passed over lightly. "Miss Dean, in
particular, has been most disrespectful. In fact, ever since she became
a pupil of this school she has derived an especial delight from annoying
me."
Miss Archer's face wore an inscrutable expression as she listened. Years
of association with Miss Merton had taught her to read between the
lines. Yet she knew she must now proceed with the utmost diplomacy. As a
teacher Miss Merton was entitled to the respect of her pupils. She had
an inner conviction, however, that the irate woman was piling injustice
upon Marjorie's shoulders. She herself was beginning to understand the
girl's motives could never be classed as unworthy. Young in years, she
possessed already a breadth of mind which Miss Merton could never hope
to attain.
"You are entitled to the utmost respect on the part of your pupils, Miss
Merton," she levelly acknowledged. "I am sorry to hear bad reports of
any of my pupils. I am sure that Miss Harding and Miss Dean will rectify
the matter with an apology. As for the note, perhaps it might be wiser
to allow the matter to drop."
"Girls," she now addressed the belligerents, "it seems to me that, as
long as note-writing has proved a source of trouble to you, you might
better give up the practice. Let me ask you a question. Was there any
grave and important reason for writing that note?"
Muriel Harding hung her head. "No, Miss Archer," came her low answer.
Marjorie's pale face took on a faint glow of pink. "It was not
necessary," she admitted.
"Very well. You have both agreed that it was unnecessary. My advice to
you is to discontinue the practice. I must insist that both of you make
apology to Miss Merton for the annoyance you have caused."
"Miss Merton, I regret that you should have been annoyed by me."
Marjorie made an immediate and dignified apology, which was perfectly
sincere on her part. For more reasons than one she deplored the
annoyance.
Muriel, however, hesitated a second or two before committing herself.
Suddenly it dawned upon her that Miss Archer's demand for apology had a
deeper significance. She thereupon made haste to repeat Marjorie's exact
words.
Miss Merton received both apologetic speeches in black silence. She was
inwardly furious with the principal, not only for her unexpected
intrusion, but for the lax manner in which she had administered
discipline. At least, Miss Merton considered it distinctly lax. Still,
she knew that it would be in bad taste to try to overrule the
principal's decision. "You are dismissed," she said stiffly. "See to it
that you conduct yourselves properly hereafter." She could not resist
this one touch of authority.
The ex-culprits lost no time in leaving the study hall behind them. Not
a word passed between them until the door of the junior locker room had
closed upon them. Their eyes meeting, they burst into laughter,
discreetly subdued, but most expressive of their feelings. Each mind
held the same thought. What would Miss Merton have said had she read the
note?