Marjorie Dean, High School Freshman

by Josephine Chase

  CHAPTER VIII

  STANDING BY HER COLORS

  When Marjorie took her seat in the study hall the next morning, Muriel'sgreeting was as affable as it had been before the disagreement of theprevious afternoon. She even went so far as to whisper, "Don't takeMignon too seriously. She is really dreadfully hurt over the unkindthings Miss Stevens has said of her."

  Marjorie listened in polite silence to the Picture Girl's rather lameapology in behalf of her friend. She could think of nothing to say.Muriel had turned about in her seat, her eyes fixed expectantly upon theother girl. But just then came an unexpected interruption.

  "Miss Dean," shrilled Miss Merton's high, querulous voice, "who gave youpermission to leave school before the regular hour of dismissalyesterday afternoon?"

  "I did not----" began the astonished girl.

  "Young woman, do you mean to contradict me?" thundered Miss Merton.

  Marjorie had now risen to her feet. Her pretty face had turned verywhite, her brown eyes gleamed like two angry flames. "I had no intentionof contradicting you, Miss Merton." Her low, steady tones were full ofrepressed indignation. "What I had begun to say was that I did not knowI was expected to return to the study hall after my last class. In thehigh school which I attended in B---- we went from our last class to ourlocker rooms. It is, of course, my fault. I should have inquired aboutit beforehand." The freshman quietly resumed her seat.

  Every pair of eyes in the room was turned upon Marjorie.

  Miss Merton, however, had no intention of letting her off so easily."The rules and regulations of another high school do not, in the least,interest me, Miss Dean," she said, with biting sarcasm. "It is mybusiness to see that the rules of _Sanford_ High School are enforced,and I propose to do it. You have been a pupil in this school for onlyone day, yet I have been obliged to reprimand you on two differentoccasions. If you annoy me further I shall consider myself fullyjustified in sending you to Miss Archer."

  The ringing of the first recitation bell put an end to the little scene.Marjorie rose from her seat and marched from the study hall, her headheld high. If Miss Merton expected her to break down and cry she wouldfind herself sadly mistaken. Muriel overtook her in the corridor. "My,but Miss Merton hates you!" she commented cheerfully, as though enjoyingher classmate's discomfiture.

  Marjorie made no reply. Her proud spirit was too deeply crushed forwords. She went through her recitation in English that morning like onein a dream. Several times during her French hour she gazed appealinglyat Constance, but the Mary girl kept her fair head turned resolutelyaway. She did not appear at her locker either at noon or after schoolwas over, although Marjorie lingered, in the hope that she would come.

  So successfully did she manage to steer clear of Marjorie, who was tooproud to make advances in the face of Constance's marked avoidance,that, when Friday came and the afternoon session was over, Marjorie wasescorted to the gymnasium by the Picture Girl and her friends, who, evento Mignon, believed that the newcomer had been wise and taken theirbrusque advice.

  At least half of the freshman class had elected to try for a place onthe team. Miss Randall, the instructor in gymnastics, and severalseniors had been chosen to pick the team, and when the six girls arrivedon the scene the testing had begun. Mignon La Salle was the first oftheir group to play. Her almost marvelous agility, her quick, catlikesprings and her fleetness of foot called forth unstinted praise fromMarjorie. Muriel, too, played a skilful game; so did Susan Atwell. WhenMarjorie was called upon to play left guard on a team composed of thelast lot of aspirants for basketball honors, she advanced to herposition rather nervously. Muriel, Mignon, Susan Atwell and twofreshmen, whom she did not know, were to oppose her. She wondered if shecould play fast enough to keep up with her clever opponents. Then, asshe caught the French girl's elfish eyes fixed upon her, mockingincredulity in their depths, she rallied her doubting spirit andresolved to outplay even Mignon.

  Fifteen minutes later Marjorie Dean had been chosen to play left guardon a team of which Mignon was center, Muriel, right guard, Susan Atwell,right forward, and a freshman named Harriet Delaney, left forward.Muriel had also been made captain, and several girls were chosen assubstitutes.

  "Hurrah for the new team!" cried Muriel Harding. "Let's call ourselvesthe Invincibles. You certainly can play basketball, Miss Dean. How luckyin you to come to Sanford just when we need you. By the way, 'Miss Dean'is too formal. Please let us call you Marjorie. You can call us by ourfirst names. What's the use of so much formality among team-mates?"

  Being merely a very human young girl, Marjorie could not help feeling alittle bit pleased with herself. She was glad she had played so well.She felt that she had really begun to like her new associates very much.Even Mignon must have her good points; and how wonderfully well sheplayed basketball! Perhaps Constance Stevens had been just a little bitat fault. Certainly she had acted very queerly after that first day whenthey had pledged their friendship. Had she, Marjorie, been wise to avowunswerving loyalty to a stranger, and all because she looked like MaryRaymond? Marjorie's disquieting reflections were interrupted bysomething the French girl was saying.

  "It was too funny for anything, wasn't it, Muriel?" Mignon laughed withgleeful malice.

  "Yes," nodded Muriel. "We gave the sophomores a bad scare."

  "What did you do?" asked Irma Linton, curiously.

  Seeing that she had the attention of her audience, the French girlbegan.

  "You remember the practice game we played against the sophomores lastweek? According to my way of thinking, the sophomores played a veryrough game. I complained to Miss Seymour, their captain. She laughed atme," Mignon scowled at the remembrance, "so I decided to teach her alesson."

  "I told Muriel about it, and between us we made up a dialogue. It wasall about the sophomores' unfair playing, and how surprised they wouldbe when they found themselves forbidden to play basketball. Then wemanaged to walk out of school behind two girls that always telleverything they know, and recited our dialogue. The next morning Murielsaw one of the girls talking to Miss Seymour for all she was worth, sowe know that she faithfully repeated everything she heard. Miss Seymourwouldn't dare go to Miss Archer with it for fear Miss Archer would asktoo many questions. You know Miss Archer said last year when InezChester made such a fuss about her sprained wrist that if ever again oneteam reported another for rough playing she would disband the accusedteam and have Miss Randall select a new one. So I imagine we gave ourfriends the sophs something to think about."

  "But who told you the sophomores would be forbidden to play?" demandedcandid Jerry.

  "No one told us, silly," retorted Muriel, her color rising. "We simplysaid they would be surprised when they found themselves forbidden toplay. 'When' may mean next week or next month, or next year or century,or any other time. We were only talking for their general edification."

  "Then nobody actually said a word about it?" persisted Jerry. "You justmade up all that stuff?"

  "It didn't do any hurt," began Muriel. "We thought----"

  "Don't be such a prig, Jerry," put in Mignon, impatiently. "It isn'thalf so wicked to play a joke on those stupid sophomores as it is to askone's mother for money for a fountain pen, and then use the money forcandy and ice cream."

  There was a chorus of giggles from the girls, in which Jerry did notjoin. She was eyeing Mignon steadily. "See here, Mignon," she said withoffended dignity. "I just want you to know that I told my mother aboutthat money that very same night. I may have my faults, but I certainlydon't tell things that aren't true." Jerry punctuated this pertinentspeech with emphatic nods of her head, and, having said her say, walkedon a little ahead of her friends, the picture of belligerence.

  "Now, you've made Jerry angry, Mignon," laughed Susan Atwell.

  Mignon merely lifted her thin shoulders. "I can't please every one. If Idid, I should never please myself."

  "I don't know what ails Jerry all of a sudden," commented Muriel toMarjorie. "She isn't usually so--so funny."

/>   Again Marjorie kept her own counsel. She, alone, knew that the object ofthe rumor which Muriel and Mignon had started had failed. Ellen Seymourhad gone frankly to headquarters with it, and Miss Archer had asked noquestions. Marjorie wondered what these girls would say if they knewthe truth. She did not like to criticize them, but were they trulyhonorable? For a moment she wished she had refused to play on the teamwith them. Muriel and Mignon, in particular, seemed so careless of otherpeople's feelings.

  Her sympathies were with Jerry, and quickening her pace she slipped herarm through that of the fat girl, saying, "Don't you think to-morrow'salgebra lesson is hard?"

  Jerry viewed her companion's smiling face rather sulkily. Thensuccumbing to the other's charm, she said in a mollified tone: "Ofcourse it's hard. They're all hard. I know I shall never pass inalgebra."

  "Oh, yes, you will," was Marjorie's cheerful assurance. "It's my hardeststudy, too; but I'm going to pass my final examination in it. I'vesimply made up my mind that I must do it."

  "Then I'll make up my mind to pass, too," announced Jerry, inspired byMarjorie's determined tones. "And, say, it would be splendid if we coulddo our lessons together sometimes. My mother likes me to bring my schoolfriends home."

  "So does mine," returned Marjorie, cordially. "She says home is theplace for me to entertain my schoolmates. I hope you will come to see mesoon. It's your turn first, you know. Oh, please pardon me a moment, Imust speak to this girl!" The cause of this sudden exclamation was ayoung woman in a well-worn blue suit who was coming across the streetdirectly ahead of them.

  "Oh, Constance!" hailed Marjorie, "I have been looking for you. Stop aminute!" Marjorie stood waiting for her friend with eager face andoutstretched hand. By this time the four other girls had come abreast ofthe trio and had passed them, Irma Linton being the only one of them whobowed to Constance. Jerry stood beside Marjorie for an instant, thenwalked on and overtook her chums.

  "Please don't stop," begged Constance, her face expressing the liveliestworry. "Really, you mustn't try to be friends with me. I wish to takeback my part of our compact. You've been chosen to play on the team, andthose girls seem to like you. I can't stand in your way, and myfriendship won't be worth anything to you, so just let's forget all wesaid the other day."

  Marjorie stared hard at the other girl, the pathetic droop of whose lipslooked for all the world like Mary's when things went wrong. "You don'tmean that, and I won't give you up," she said with fine stubbornness. "Ihaven't time to talk about it now. I must catch up with those girls.Wait for me at our locker to-morrow noon, please, _please_."

  With a hasty squeeze of Constance's hand, Marjorie raced on up thestreet to overtake her companions. They were so busily engaged indiscussing her, however, that they did not hear her approach, andconsequently did not lower their voices.

  "I will not speak to her; I will not play with her on the team!" sheheard Mignon La Salle sputter angrily.

  "We certainly don't care to bother with her if she's going to take upwith all sorts of low people." This loftily from Muriel, who was afraidto cross the French girl.

  "My mother told me never to speak to any of those crazy Stevenspersons," added Susan Atwell, with a toss of her curly head. "I don'tcare so very much for this Dean girl, either."

  "Oh, you make me tired, the whole lot of you," cried Jerry, with angrycontempt. "Marjorie Dean is nicer than all of you put together, and ifshe likes that little white-faced Stevens girl, then the girl is allright, even if her family were ragpickers. I'm ashamed of myself forbeing so silly as to listen to any of Mignon's complaints against her.You can do as you like, but if it's a case of being your friend orMarjorie's, then I guess I'd rather be hers."

  "Thank you, Geraldine." Marjorie's quiet voice caused the party to turn,then exchange sheepish glances. "I don't wish you to quarrel over me,"she went on. "I should like to be friends with all of you, but none ofyou can choose my friends for me any more than I can choose yours foryou."

  "You can't chum with us and be the friend of that Miss Stevens,"muttered Mignon. "She is my enemy. Do you understand?"

  "I am sorry to hear that," returned Marjorie, keeping her temper withdifficulty, "but she is not mine. I like her. I shall stand up for herand be her friend as long as we go to Sanford High School. I am sorry toseem disagreeable, but I shouldn't feel the least bit true to myself ifI were afraid to say what I think. This is my street. Good-bye."

  Marjorie walked proudly away from the group. An instant and she heardthe patter of running feet behind her.

  "You can't get rid of us so easily," panted Geraldine Macy.

  "I think you are right, Marjorie," said Irma Linton, quietly, puttingout her hand. "I should like to be your friend."

  And the dividing of the sextette of girls was the dividing of thefreshman class of Sanford High School.