Marjorie Dean, High School Freshman

by Josephine Chase

  CHAPTER XXIII

  THE AWAKENING

  It was wilful, changeable April's last night, and, being in a tenderreminiscent mood, she dispensed her balmiest airs for the benefit of thedistinguished company who filled to overflowing the gymnasium of SanfordHigh School, prepared to dance her last hours away. For the heroes andheroines of fairy-tale renown had apparently left the books that hadheld them captive for so long, and, jubilant in their unaccustomedfreedom, promenaded the floor of the gymnasium in twos, threes or inwhole companies.

  Simple Simon, whose tall, lank figure bore a startling resemblance tothat of the Crane, paraded the floor, calm and unafraid, with none lesspersonage than the terrible Blue Beard. Hansel and Gretel immediatelyformed a warm attachment for Jack and Jill, and the quartet wanderedconfidently about together. Little Miss Muffet, in spite of her reputeddaintiness, clung to the arm of Bearskin, who, despite the fact that hisfurry coat was that of a buffalo instead of a bear, was a unique successin his line. One suspected, too that the Brave Little Tailor, whosewaistcoat bore the modest inscription, "Seven at One Blow," and whotripped over his long sword at regular two-minute intervals, had animpish, freckled countenance. The straight, lithe figure of the youthwith the Magic Fiddle reminded one of Lawrence Armitage, while hisconstant companion, Aladdin, a sultan of unequaled magnificence, had apeculiar swing to his gait that reminded sharp-eyed observers of HalMacy. The Four Fat Friars loomed large and gray, and fanned imaginaryflies with commendable energy, while Snow White, accompanied by herfaithful dwarfs, made a radiantly beautiful figure and was greeted withejaculations of admiration wherever she chose to walk.

  There were kings and courtiers, queens and goose girls. There werejesters and princesses, old witches and fairies. Mother Goose was there.So were Jack Horner, Bo-peep, Little Boy Blue and many more of hernursery children, not to mention two fearsome giants, at least ten feethigh, whose voluminous cloaks concealed figures which appeared far tootall to be true. Rapunzel trailed about on the arm of her prince, herbeautiful hair, which looked suspiciously like nice new rope, confinedin a braid at least three inches wide and hanging gracefully to herfeet. Cinderella came to the party in her old kitchen dress, accompaniedby her fairy godmother, and Beauty was attended by a strange being cladin a huge fur robe and a papier-mache tiger's head, which wasimmediately recognized as the formidable Beast.

  The gallery of the gymnasium was crowded with the friends and familiesof the maskers who were admitted by tickets, a limited number of whichhad been issued. When the first notes of the grand march sounded therewas a great craning of necks and a loud buzz of expectation as the gailydressed company formed into line, and while the brilliant processioncircled the gymnasium a lively guessing went on as to who was who inFairyland.

  Mother Goose led the march with the Brave Little Tailor, who friskedalong in high glee and executed weird and wonderful steps for theedification of his aged partner and the rest of the company in general.

  "Isn't it great, though," commented Aladdin to his partner, who was noneother than Snow White. "I know who you are. I'm sure I do. If I guesscorrectly will you tell me?"

  Snow White nodded her curly head.

  "All right, here goes. You are Marjorie Dean."

  "I'm so glad you guessed right the first time," declared Snow White in amuffled voice from behind her mask. "I've been perfectly crazy to talkto someone. It's a gorgeous party, isn't it, Hal?"

  "The nicest one the Sanford girls have ever given the boys," returnedHal Macy, warmly. "You'll give me the next dance, won't you, Marjorie?"

  "Of course," acquiesced Marjorie. "I think the grand march is going toend in a minute."

  She danced the first dance with Hal. After that the Youth with the MagicFiddle claimed her, and when he asked in a tone of deep concern, "Whendo you think Constance will be home, Marjorie?" she had no difficulty inrecognizing Lawrence Armitage.

  "I don't know, Laurie," she said rather confusedly. "I--I haven't heardfrom her."

  "She wrote me one letter," declared Laurie, gloomily. "I answered it,but she hasn't written me a line since."

  "Then you know----" began Marjorie. She did not finish.

  "Know what?" asked Laurie, impatiently.

  "Nothing," was the answer.

  "That's just it!" exclaimed the boy. "I know exactly nothing aboutConstance. I thought you'd be sure to know something."

  Just then the dance came to an end. Jack and the Beanstalk, clad indoublet and hose, and decorated with long green tendrils of thatfruitful vine, his famous hatchet slung over his shoulder by a stoutleather thong, claimed her for the next dance, and she had no time toexchange further words with Laurie.

  The moment of unmasking was to follow the ninth dance. The eighth wasjust about to begin. Marjorie caught sight of a huge lumbering figurein princely garments heading in her direction, and turning fled towardthe dressing-room. She was quite sure of the prince's identity, whichwas that of a youth whom she particularly disliked. Just as she reachedthe sheltering door a familiar voice called out a low, cautious,"Marjorie." Turning, she saw a stout, gray-robed friar hurrying towardher.

  "I've hunted all over for you," declared the friar, in Jerry'sunmistakable tones. "Come into the dressing-room. Someone is waiting tosee you there."

  "Waiting to see me!" exclaimed Marjorie, in surprise.

  "That's what I said. Come along." Jerry caught her arm and pulled hergently into the dressing-room. At one end of the room stood the dingyfigure of Cinderella, deep in conversation with her fairy godmother.

  At the sound of the opening door Cinderella wheeled and, with aquavering little cry of "Marjorie!" ran forward to meet the newcomers.

  Marjorie stopped short and stared unbelievingly at the shabbily clothedfigure, but Cinderella had now torn off her mask and was fumbling withtrembling eagerness in the pocket of her apron.

  "Here it is, Marjorie, dear! I never dreamed you had one like it. Nowonder you felt dreadfully that day. Look at it." She thrust a smallglittering object into Marjorie's limp hand.

  Marjorie regarded the object with a look of growing amazement, whichsuddenly changed to one of alarm. "It isn't mine!" she gasped. "It'sexactly like it except for one thing. Mine has no pearls here." Shetouched the tips of the golden butterfly's wings. "Oh, Constance, canyou ever forgive me?" The pretty butterfly pin slipped from her laxfingers and Marjorie burst into tears.

  "Don't cry, Marjorie," said Jerry, with unusual gentleness. "You didn'tknow. It was just one of those miserable misunderstandings. Constancewants to tell you about the pin."

  "But how--where----" quavered Marjorie.

  "Oh, I had an idea that there was some kind of a misunderstanding, so Iwrote Constance and asked her to come home as soon as she could,"explained Jerry. "Her father gave me her address. She was coming homenext week, anyhow, but I wrote her again and asked her to get here intime for the dance. The minute I saw that butterfly pin I asked herstraight out and out where she got it. She told me, and then I knew thatthe thing for me to do was to bring you two together. She only came homelast night, so we had to plan a costume in a hurry. You haven't said aword about her fairy godmother, either. Take off your mask, dear fairygodmother."

  "Irma!" cried Marjorie, as she glimpsed a laughing face. "Oh, it's toowonderful!" She wound two penitent arms around Constance and kissed her.

  "I guess that will settle Mignon," commented Jerry, in triumph. "It is ashame, but I suppose your butterfly pin is really lost. Constance willtell you the history of hers."

  "I wish the bracelet problem could be solved, too," sighed Constance."Jerry tells me that Mignon is going to accuse me of taking it when I goback to school. How can she be so cruel? I don't remember seeing it inthe dressing-room on the night of the Weston dance."

  "But I do!" called out a positive voice that caused them all to face theintruder in astonishment.

  A slim, pale-faced girl, dressed as a shepherdess, emerged from behind acurtain which hung in a little alcove at one end of the dressing
-room.

  "Please excuse me for listening," apologized the girl. "I was standinghere looking out of the window when you girls came in and began to talk.Before I could make up my mind what it was all about I heard MissStevens talking about Miss La Salle's bracelet and the Weston dance. DidMiss La Salle accuse you of taking her bracelet that night?" she asked,her eyes upon Constance.

  "Yes," began Constance, "she----"

  "Miss La Salle is the real thief," interrupted the girl, dryly. "I sawher take off her bracelet and lay it on the dressing table. I saw hercome and take it away after Miss Stevens left the room. I had to catchthe last train home that night. You know, I don't live in Sanford, and Iwas sitting over in one corner of the dressing-room behind a chairputting on my shoes. Neither Miss Stevens nor Miss La Salle saw me. Iwondered what Miss La Salle meant by doing as she did, but I neverunderstood until this minute. I'm glad I happened to be there that nightand I'm glad I happen to be here now. If there is likely to be anytrouble, just send for me. I'm Edna Halstead, of the junior class."

  The four girls had received this rapidly repeated information withvarying degrees of amazement. It was Marjorie who first sprang forwardand offered her hand to Edna Halstead. "It is the last word we needed toclear Constance," she asserted, joyously. "Will you go to Miss Archerwith us on Monday?"

  "I should be glad to do so. I never could endure that La Salle girl,"was the frank response.

  "We'll go together," planned Jerry. "Every one of you meet me in MissArcher's living-room office on Monday morning before school begins."

  "I must go home now," demurred Constance. "I don't wish anyone to knowthat I've been here."

  "Not even Laurie?" asked Marjorie, slyly. "He spoke of you to-night."

  Constance smiled. "You may tell him after the 'Home, Sweet Home' waltz."

  "There goes the music for the ninth dance," informed Jerry, who hadstepped to the door.

  "Oh, gracious, I promised this dance to Hal! I can't go. I simply musthear about the pin, Connie."

  "I'll tell you just one thing about it," stipulated Constance, "but therest must wait until to-morrow, for Hal is too nice a boy to leavewithout a partner."

  "Then tell me that one thing," begged Marjorie.

  "My aunt sent me the pin," was the quick answer. "Now kiss me good-nightand hurry along to Hal."

  And Marjorie kissed her and went with happiness singing joyfully in herheart.