Part 14 (1/2)
CHAPTER XIV
THE COMMON FATE OF REFORMERS
Nevertheless the session behind closed doors had one beneficial effect.
It broke the ice that had lately formed over the long comrades.h.i.+p of the two girls, and, although nothing was as of old, they were both secretly relieved to still be on terms of conversation. Out of pure regard for Mary, Marjorie treated her exactly as she had always done, and Mary pretended to respond, simply because she had determined that Mr. and Mrs. Dean should not become aware of any difference in their relations.
She affected an interest in planning for the party and kept up a pretty show of concern which Marjorie alone knew to be false. Privately Mary's deceitful att.i.tude was a sore trial to her. Honest to the core, she felt that she would rather her chum had maintained open hostility than a farce of good will which was dropped the moment they chanced to be alone. Still she resolved to bear it and look forward to a happier day when Mary would relent.
The invitations to the party had been mailed and duly accepted. Much to Mary's secret surprise and chagrin, Mignon had not declined to shed the light of her countenance upon the proposed festivity, but had written a formal note of acceptance which amused Marjorie considerably, inasmuch as the acceptances of the others had been verbal. Despite her hatred for Marjorie Dean and her friends, Mignon had resolved to profit by the sudden show of friendliness which, true to their compact, the five girls had lost no time in carrying out. Ign.o.ble of soul, she did not value the favor of these girls as a concession which she had been fortunate enough to receive. She decided to use it only as a wedge to reinstate herself in a certain leaders.h.i.+p which her bad behavior of last year had lost her. She had no idea of the real reason for their interest in her. She preferred to think that they had come to a realization of her vast importance in the social life of Sanford. Was not her father the richest man in the town? She had an idea that perhaps Mary Raymond might be responsible for her sudden accession to favor. She had taken care to impress her own importance upon Mary's mind, together with certain vague insinuations as to her wrongs. After her first brief outburst against Marjorie and Constance Stevens, she had decided that she would gain infinitely more by playing the part of wronged innocence. When she received her invitation she had already heard that Constance was in New York and likely to remain there for a time. This influenced her to accept Marjorie's hospitality. Her own consciousness of guilt would not permit her to go to any place where she would meet the accusing scorn of Constance's blue eyes. Then, too, she had still another motive in attending the party. She had always looked upon Lawrence Armitage with eyes of favor. He had never paid her a great deal of attention, but he had shown her less since the advent of Constance Stevens in Sanford.
She resolved to show him that she was far more clever and likable than the quiet girl who had taken such a strong hold on his boyish interest, and with that end in view Mignon planned to make her reinstatement a sweeping success.
Friday afternoon was a lost session, so far as study went, to the Sanford girls who were to make up the feminine portion of Marjorie's party.
”Good gracious, I thought half-past three would never come!” grumbled Jerry Macy in Marjorie's ear as they filed decorously through the corridor. ”Let's make a quick dash for the locker-room. I've a pressing engagement with the hair-dresser and I'm dying to get through with it and sweep down to dinner in my new silver net party dress. It's a dream and makes me look positively thin. You won't know me when you see me.”
”You're not the only one,” put in Muriel Harding. ”You won't be one, two, three when I appear to-night in all my glory.”
”Listen to the conceited things,” laughed Irma Linton. ”'I won't speak of myself,' as H. C. Anderson beautifully puts it.”
”Who's he?” demanded Jerry. ”I know every boy in Sanford High, but I never heard of him.”
A shout of laughter greeted her earnest a.s.sertion.
”Wake up, Jerry,” dimpled Susan Atwell. ”H. C. stands for Hans Christian. Now does the light begin to break?”
”Oh, you make me tired,” retorted Jerry. ”Irma did that on purpose.
That's worse than my favorite trap about letting it rain in Spain. How was I to know what she meant?”
”That's all because you don't cultivate literary tastes,” teased Muriel.
”I do cultivate them,” grinned Jerry. ”I've read the dictionary through twice, without skipping a page!”
”It must have been a pocket edition,” murmured Marjorie.
”Stop teasing me or I'll get cross and not come to your party,”
threatened Jerry.
”You mean nothing could keep you away,” laughed Irma.
”You're right. Nothing could. I'll be there, clad in costly raiment, to spur the reform party on to deeds of might.”
”Do come early, all of you,” urged Marjorie as she paused at her corner to say good-bye.
”We'll be there,” chorused the quartette after her.
”I hope everyone will have a nice time,” was Marjorie's fervent reflection as she hurried on her way. ”I do wish Mary would walk home with me once in a while, instead of always waiting for Mignon. I wouldn't ask her to for worlds, though.”
To see Mary walk away with Mignon at the end of every session of school had been a heavy cross for Marjorie to bear. Surrounded as she always was with the four faithful members of her own little set, she was often lonely. If only Constance had been in school she could have better borne Mary's disloyalty, although the latter could never quite fill the niche which years of companions.h.i.+p had carved in her heart for Mary. But Connie was far away, so she must go on enduring this bitter sorrow and make no outward sign.