Part 26 (2/2)

Mignon's revelation had laid the last ghost. She had untied the final knot in the tangle of her own making. More, she had given the best possible proof of sincere repentance. ”Mignon,” it was now Marjorie's voice that trembled, ”you've already proved yourself my friend. I'm glad for your sake and Lucy's and mine that you were so brave as to tell me about the letter and return it to me. All I can say is: Let us forget and be friends.”

CHAPTER XXVII-COMMENCEMENT

The next morning Miss Archer held a memorable interview in her private office with Mignon La Salle. It was evidently a satisfactory talk. When it terminated, the hands of teacher and pupil met in an understanding clasp. On leaving the inner office, Mignon halted at Lucy Warner's desk, there to perform a difficult act of rest.i.tution.

Not gifted with Marjorie Dean's divine power of forgiveness, Lucy was filled with righteous wrath against Mignon. Added to the anger Mignon's confession aroused was remorse for her unbelief in Marjorie. She vowed bitterly that she would never forgive Mignon and she meant it. It was not until she had made humble amend to Marjorie for her own sins and received gracious pardon, that her better nature began to stir.

Conscience whispering to her that as she had freely received so should she freely give, she went to Mignon and retracted her harsh vow. Thus Marjorie Dean's beneficent influence again made itself felt.

Mignon's return to school occasioned much speculation on the part of her cla.s.s mates. As only the Lookouts knew the true reason of her brief withdrawal from Sanford High, it had been a subject for fruitful cogitation among the other seniors. Not even the Lookouts knew, with one exception, the reason for Mignon's return. Among themselves they laid it to her ability to manage her father. Marjorie, the one exception, kept her own secret. What took place on a certain rainy evening remained locked forever within her heart. Besides the three intimately interested parties to the little drama, only one other shared the secret. From her captain she kept back nothing.

To Marjorie the remaining days of May pa.s.sed with a pleasant uneventfulness, which she mentally likened to the welcome calm that inevitably succeeds a storm. She was filled with a quiet sense of exultation. With the ending of her senior year had come peace. Mignon's miraculous change of heart had resulted in removing from the senior cla.s.s the last element of discord. The seniors were now indeed one heart, one soul, marching on, shoulder to shoulder, toward the end of their high school course.

She had but one regret. She earnestly wished that the new Mignon might again take her place among the Lookouts. The fulfilling of this desire, however, would entail an amount of explanation which she did not feel privileged to make. She and Mignon discussed the painful subject at length, both agreeing sadly that matters must remain as they were.

Having sown chaff with a liberal hand, this unhappy reminder of her treacherous conduct was in itself a part of the bitter harvest Mignon was obliged to reap. As she had meted it out to others, so it had been measured back to her. With the belated realization, however, had come resigned acceptance. Mignon's feet were at last planted firmly in the straight path.

The arrival of rose-decked June marked the beginning of the pleasant flurry which always attends the sweet girl graduate's preparations for Commencement. Strolling home from school each afternoon in the warm suns.h.i.+ne of early summer, Marjorie and her devoted companions brimmed with eager conversation relating to the momentous occasion. With Commencement exercises set for the morning of June twenty-second, they were divided between antic.i.p.ation of the event and regret at saying good-bye to Sanford High.

The day nursery was also an important topic of discussion. Although their successors had been already chosen, they were not expected to take up their new responsibilities until school re-opened in the fall. The original Lookouts had decided to carry on the work as best they could through the summer. Vacation time would see a part of their number absent from Sanford during one or more of the summer months. In consequence the daily pilgrimages to the nursery at which they had taken turns could not continue. Each girl had agreed, however, to go there as often as possible to a.s.sist the two women in charge, who were permanently attached to the place.

Their chief anxiety for the welfare of the little home they had founded related to money matters. The present prosperous state of the Lookouts'

treasury would keep the enterprise in a flouris.h.i.+ng condition until well into the next year. After that they could only hope that their successors would find ways and means to continue the good work. They had solemnly pledged themselves to pay a year's dues in advance into the treasury before leaving home in the autumn to continue their education in the various colleges of their choice. They were also resolved to get together during the next Christmas vacation and devise some sort of entertainment which their town folks would patronize. This much at least they could offer to the cause they had so generously espoused.

Lingering at the Macys' gate on the way from school one afternoon to discuss this very important subject, Jerry remarked confidentially: ”I almost forgot to tell you a real piece of news. My father told me about it this noon. Someone, he wouldn't say who, has offered Sanford High a scholars.h.i.+p to Hamilton College. The name of the giver is to be announced on Commencement morning with the winner's name. We'll probably hear about it at chapel to-morrow morning. I thought you'd like to know beforehand. It's a splendid chance for Lucy Warner or Veronica, for that matter. They're both brilliant students. Either is likely to win it.”

”Isn't that wonderful?” glowed Marjorie. ”I don't know which of the two I'd rather see win it. Lucy's heart is set on going to college. I've never heard Ronny say anything about it. I suppose she would like to go on with her education, though.”

”Of course you've never heard her say a word about it,” retorted Jerry, ”or about anything else. She's beyond me. I said when I first met her that I was going to find out the whys and wherefores of her. I've never found out a thing. Where she learned to dance so beautifully, where those two expensive dancing dresses came from, why she works for her board and looks like a princess, are mysteries I can't ferret out. She's a perfect dear and has helped the Lookouts a lot, but she's the great enigma, just the same.”

”It's rather queer about her,” mused Marjorie. ”I used to think that she'd some day explain a few things. Perhaps there's really nothing mysterious to explain. She is probably a natural dancer. Miss Archer must have given her those two beautiful dresses and she was born with the air of a princess.”

”That's not the answer,” disagreed Jerry with a shake of her head. ”I guess it's the only one we'll ever get, though, so why worry about it?

I'm a baffled sleuth and I might as well own up to it. I can't truthfully say now that I know everything about everybody.”

Jerry's admitted mystification regarding Veronica Browning deepened considerably. When the club met at Marjorie's home the next evening, the latter quietly a.s.sured her that she had no intention to try for the scholars.h.i.+p. The announcement of it and the details of the test examinations to be held to determine the winner, having been publicly made that very morning, it was freely discussed at the meeting. Of the Lookouts, it appeared that Lucy Warner was the only one to try for it.

Several members of the senior cla.s.s, outside the club, had also entered the lists.

The parting of the ways so near, the s.e.xtette of girls who had emerged from their freshman year, a devoted band, clung fondly to one another.

Not even the glories of approaching Commencement and the consciousness of work well done could drive away the thought that their school days together would soon be a thing of the past. Commencement would witness a break in the fond little circle. The next fall Marjorie, Jerry and Muriel were to take up their new life at Hamilton College. Susan and Irma expected to enter Wellesley College, while Constance Stevens would begin her training for grand opera in New York City. It would indeed be a parting of the ways.

Although Harriet Delaney had not been of their original number, she was equally dear. It was a source of consolation to Marjorie that Harriet was also bound for the same conservatory as Constance. She reflected that, with Hamilton College not very far from New York, she would be always in direct touch with both girls. It was conceded by all that they would miss Veronica sorely. Several times Marjorie had questioned her regarding her future plans, only to receive evasive replies that discouraged further inquiry.

So while June laughed its fragrant, blossoming way toward the twenty-second of the month, the s.e.xtette of sworn friends became doubly endeared to one another as they took their last walks together to and from school. As Lookouts they would continue to meet regularly until their vacation flittings began, but as schoolmates their days were numbered. Having disposed of their final tests in January, they were free of the bugbear of examinations. The week preceding Commencement Day took on a singularly social tone. Jerry and Hal gave their long postponed dance. Constance gave an informal hop at Gray Gables. Muriel sent out invitations for a lawn party, and Marjorie entertained the Lookouts at a Sat.u.r.day luncheon.

Commencement Day dawned with a cloudless blue sky and a lavish display of suns.h.i.+ne. More than one pair of anxious feet pattered to the window before seven o'clock that morning to view the weather prospects. To the members of the senior cla.s.s it was thus far the most eventful day in their short lives. They considered it quite their due that Nature should put on her most radiantly smiling face in their honor.

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