Marjorie Dean, High School Freshman

by Josephine Chase

  CHAPTER XVIII

  PLAYING SANTA CLAUS TO CHARLIE

  The next morning Marjorie wrote a description of her pin. It was placedat the end of the basement corridor above a small bulletin board, wherethose who passed might read. She wondered if the loss of her talismanwould bring her bad luck. Before the day was over she gloomily decidedthat it had, for during the last hour Miss Merton accused her ofwhispering to the girl across the aisle, when she merely leaned forwardin her seat to pick up her handkerchief. Smarting with the teacher'sinjustice, Marjorie politely but steadily contradicted the accusation,and two minutes later found herself on the way to Miss Archer's office,Miss Merton walking grimly beside her.

  Miss Archer had been through a particularly trying day, and wasirritable, while Miss Merton was consumed with spiteful rage atMarjorie's "impertinence," and did not hesitate to put her side of thestory forward in a most unpleasant fashion. The principal turned coldlyto Marjory with, "Apologize to Miss Merton at once, Miss Dean, fordisturbing her," and Marjorie said, with uplifted chin and resentfuleyes, "I am sorry you thought I whispered, Miss Merton, for I did notopen my lips." Something in the proud carriage of the girl's head causedMiss Archer to divine the truth of the firm statement, and she said,more gently, "Very well, you are excused, Miss Dean; but I do not wishto hear again that you have failed in courtesy to your teachers. This isnot the first time I have received such reports of you."

  With a steady, reproachful look at Miss Merton, whose shifting eyesrefused to meet hers, Marjorie walked from the room, ready to burst intotears, and when the all but interminable afternoon was ended, hurriedhome to the shelter of her faithful captain's arms and poured forth hergrief and wrongs.

  But the notice of the lost pin posted on the bulletin board broughtforth no trace of the vanished butterfly. Marjorie made a valiant effortto thrust aside her heavy sense of loss and allow the spirit ofChristmas to enter her heart. She had promised Constance her help inarranging Santa Claus' visit to Charlie, and, when on Christmas eve, ata little after seven o'clock she set out for the Stevens' weighed downby numerous festively-wrapped, be-ribboned packages, she was filled withthat quiet exaltation that attends the performance of a good deed andhappier than she had been for several days.

  "Shh!" Constance met her at the door, a warning finger on her lips.

  "Hasn't he gone to sleep yet?" asked Marjorie, sliding into the house inmouse-like fashion.

  "Yes, but I thought he never would," returned Constance, with a relievedsigh. "What do you think? Father is playing at the theatre to-night forthe first time. The pianist is ill. The leader of the orchestra was herethis afternoon to see if father would take his place. We can never begrateful enough to you, Marjorie, for having father and Uncle John playat your party."

  "Let's talk about Charlie's little wagon," proposed Marjorie, quickly."Nora popped and strung a lot of corn for me. It's in this bag. Do tellme where I can put the rest of this armful of things."

  Constance made a place on one end of an old velvet couch for them.

  "This is yours." Marjorie flourished a wide, flat package tied withlong, graceful loops of narrow pale blue ribbon. "I tied it with bluebecause that's your color. Don't you dare peep at it until to-morrowmorning. These two little packages are for your father and Mr. Roland,and all the rest is for Charlie."

  "He will be the happiest boy in Sanford," said Constance, her own faceradiant. "He never dreamed of a Christmas like this."

  "Can we begin now?" asked Marjorie. "I'm so impatient to see how thiswagon will look when we get it fixed."

  "Wait a minute." Constance disappeared through the door leading into thekitchen, returning with one arm piled high with evergreens, the otherwound around a small balsam tree.

  "Lawrence Armitage brought me this yesterday," she explained. "A partyof boys went to the woods to cut down Christmas trees. He brought methis cunning little tree and all this ground pine and holly. Wasn't itnice in him?"

  "Perfectly dear," agreed Marjorie. "I wonder if there is enough popcornfor the tree, too. I have a lot of little ornaments and candles at home.It won't take long to go there and back." She reached for her hat andcoat as she spoke and in spite of Constance's protests was soon speedinghome after the required decorations.

  "I made good time, didn't I?" she observed, as half an hour later sheburst into the Stevens' living-room without knocking.

  Then the work of making one small boy's Christmas merry was begun inearnest. An hour later the sturdy baby balsam stood loaded with its cropof strange fruit, and the faithful, rickety wagon, whose imperfectionswere quite hidden beneath trails of thick, fragrant ground pine andsprays of flame-berried holly, looked as though it had received avisitation from the fairies. A diminutive black leather violin case,encircled with a wreath of ground pine and tied with a huge red bow,leaned against one wheel of the magic vehicle, and the cunning chairwith its absurd little arms and leather cushion was also twined withgreen.

  "It's too lovely for words," breathed Constance, her admiring gazefastened upon the once dingy corner now bright with the flowers of loveand generosity, which had bloomed in all shapes and sizes of packages togladden one youngster's heart.

  "I wish I could be here when first he sees it," commented Marjorie."I'll be fast asleep then, for he told me that Mr. Roland promised tocall him very early."

  "He proposed staying up all night, but I was not enthusiastic over thatplan," laughed Constance.

  "I must go," decided Marjorie. "The hands of that clock fairly flyaround the dial. I'm sure I just came and yet they point to a quarter toeleven." She reached reluctantly for her hat and her wraps.

  "How can I ever thank you, Marjorie," began Constance, but Marjorie puta soft hand over her friend's lips.

  "Please don't," she implored. "I've loved to do it." She held out bothhands to Constance. "I wish you the merriest sort of a merry Christmas."

  "I hope you will have a perfectly wonderful day," was the earnestresponse. "You'll come over to-morrow and see how happy you've madeCharlie and all of us, won't you?"

  "I'll come," promised Marjorie. "You couldn't keep me away."

  She reached home just in time to catch a fleeting glimpse of her fatherdisappearing up the stairs with a huge box in his arms, while her motherhastily dropped some thing into the drawer of the library table.

  "There, I caught both of you," she cried in triumph. "Confess you werehiding things from me, weren't you?"

  "I'll answer your questions to-morrow," beamed her father.

  "I forgive you both as long as the things are for me," was her calmdeclaration.

  "What is she talking about?" solemnly asked Mr. Dean, with an air ofcomplete mystification.

  "You know perfectly well what I'm talking about!" exclaimed Marjorie,making a rush for him.

  "Help, help!" he called feebly. "The battalion has been ambushed and thegeneral captured."

  "And held prisoner," added Marjorie, severely. "Unless he informs thesecond lieutenant what is in a certain big, white box with which heescaped upstairs, he shall be court-martialed."

  "Put off the court-martial until to-morrow and perhaps I'll tell,"compromised the captured general, throwing his free arm across hislieutenant's shoulder in a most unmilitary manner.

  "All right, I'll let you go on parole," returned his daughter. "I'm toosleepy to do guard duty to-night. How I wish you might have seenCharlie's little wagon when we finished it! We had a tree, too."

  Forgetting that she was sleepy, Marjorie poured forth the story of herevening's work to her sympathetic listeners and it was ten minutes totwelve before she said good-night and went yawning to bed.

  Eight o'clock Christmas morning found her awake and stirring. Wrapped inher bathrobe, she pattered downstairs to the living-room, her arms fullof bundles, but her father and mother were already there before her, andtheir packages greatly outnumbered hers. After the kisses and greetingsof the day had been given her father handed the big white box into heroutstretched arms. "Shall I te
ll you----" he began.

  "Don't you dare! I'm going to see for myself. Oh-h-h!" She had the lidoff, and was clasping to her breast a mass of soft brown fur. "Oh,General, you dear thing! You sha'n't ever go to prison again." Shesmothered her father in the coat and a rapturous embrace, causing him toprotest mildly. Her mother's gift of a bracelet watch also evokedanother burst of reckless enthusiasm.

  What a happy hour it was, to be sure, and how beautifully all herfriends had remembered her! Marjorie could hardly bear to leave herpresents long enough to eat breakfast, and when after breakfast she lefthome for her Christmas call on the Stevens, she felt as though she mustsing "Peace on Earth, Good Will Toward Men," at the top of her voice asshe walked.