Marjorie Dean

he autumn sky before morning and the day broke in a downpour of rain. It was a doubly drea

ife some rai

ust be dark

concerning them, but on the subject of Constance Stevens and her affairs she had been mute. Mary fancied she had purposely avoided the subject. In this respect she was quite correct. Marjorie, still a little disturbed over her promise to Constance, had tried to direct Mary's mind to other matters. Deeply hurt, rather than jealous, Mary had listened to Marjorie in silence. She managed to make a few comments on the dance, and pleading that she was too sleep

ob caused her to spring from her b

rom the hall. "Whatever made you lock your door? I guess

upon her like a frolicsome puppy. Wrapping her arms around her chum,

pulled herself pettishly fr

h. If you're just sleepy, then I'm not. You needed waking up. It's a quarter to eight now and we'l

y laconically. "I-th

Marjorie sought to comfort her chum, but Mary eluded her sympathetic caress a

go down and ask Captain to give you something to cure your headache." She turned ab

urried through her bath and was partly dressed when Marjorie returned with a little b

uttered Mary. "My he

headaches would take wing so easily. You know what dreadful sick headaches she somet

relessly. "That was one of t

ailing to catch the significance of Mary's words. "But now

ere. Selecting a blue serge dress, made sailor fashion, she slipped into it and began fastening it as she walked to the mirror. Marjorie stood watching her, with a half frown. She di

rie's and not her place to speak. Marjorie must know something of her state of mind. At heart she must be just the least bit ashamed of herself for shutting her out of her personal affairs. Had they not sworn long ago to tell each other their secrets. She had always kept her word. It was Marjorie who had failed to do so. No, she would not humble herself. Marjorie might keep her secrets, for all she ca

er letters, as the two gir

spare. These social affairs completely break up army discipli

t for hours and hours. Your army is ready for duty, Captain. Lieute

ed Mrs. Dean anxiously. She noted that Mary was ve

you." The ghost of a smile

Connie to give it in your honor. We are a

mention of the child's name. "Isn'

er already. I don't blame him. So do I, and so does Connie, too.

with an account of the dance. Mary said little or nothing, bu

n after them, as, their breakfast fini

e bobbing umbrella procession that wende

. "You can put your wraps in our locker. We are to have the same lockers we had last year. Connie and I have a locker together.

econd thought she closed her lips tightly, resolved to make n

e's whispered counsel, as they crossed the th

d a trifle scornfully. Marjorie tr

s her terse statement, as she paused

cold blue eyes. Something in their direct gaze made her answer with

seat in one of the two sophomore rows, and paused befo

who wore eye-glasses. The seat in front of her was vacant. Marjorie sat far down the same row. Mary could just see the top of her curly head. It still lacked five minutes of opening time and

are going to sit here," she said in an undertone. "I was afraid Miss Merton would put some old slo

ind to win friends. They would be indispensable to her now that all was over

d Susan. "You'd get no recreatio

tious giggle. "Who sits i

ast year. It's too bad. It makes an awkward stretch if one wants to pass a note. I always am caught if I throw one. Last year I threw one and hit Miss Merton in the back. She was standing quite a little way down the aisle. I thought it was a splendid opportunity. I'

l died into silence. Every pair of eyes faced front. Miss Merton rose from her chair to conduct the opening exercises. A sudden murmur that swept the hal

ession of mingled contempt and amusement, advanced into the roo

san. "Well, what do

to co