CHAPTER IX
A BITTER MOMENT
Marjorie went soberly up the steps of her home that afternoon. Herpleasure in making the team had been short-lived. She wondered if itwould not be better to write her resignation. How could she bear to playon a team when three of the members had decided to drop heracquaintance? Still, they had not chosen her to play on the team; why,then, should she resign? She decided to consult her captain on thesubject; then changed her mind. She would not trouble her mother withsuch petty grievances. This prejudice against Constance Stevens hadoriginated wholly with Mignon La Salle. Perhaps the French girl wouldsoon forget it, and it would die a natural death. Marjorie was notmortally hurt over the turn of the afternoon's affairs. She had not beenso deeply impressed with the importance of Mignon and her friends thatshe failed to see their snobbish tendencies. She made mental exceptionof Jerry and Irma. She was secretly glad that they had declared for her.She liked Jerry's blunt independence and Irma's gentle, lovablepersonality. With the optimism of sixteen, she declined to worry overwhat had happened, and her report to her captain at the end of thattroubled afternoon included only the pleasant events of the day.
When she went to school the next Monday morning she discovered that itdid hurt, just a trifle, to be deliberately cut by the Picture Girl,and, instead of being greeted with Susan Atwell's dimpled smile, toreceive an icy stare from that young woman, as, later in the morning,they passed each other in the corridor.
In some mysterious manner the story of the disagreement had been noisedabout the freshman class, with the result that Marjorie's acquaintancewas eagerly sought by a number of freshmen whom she knew merely bysight, and that several girls, who had made it a point to smile and nodto her, now passed her, frigid and unsmiling.
As for the members of the little group Marjorie had watched so earnestlybefore she had been enrolled as a freshman at Sanford, they were nowdivided indeed. As the week progressed the "Terrible Trio," as Jerry hadsatirically named Mignon, Muriel and Susan, endeavored to make plain towhoever would listen to them that there was but one side to the story,namely, their side. Emulating Marjorie's example, Jerry and Irma hadtaken particular pains to be friendly with Constance Stevens. After aneloquent dissertation on friendship, delivered by Marjorie at theirlocker on the Monday morning following her disagreement with the othergirls, Constance had shed a few happy tears and admitted that she hadrather be "best friends" with Marjorie than anyone else in the world.
The hardest part of it all for Marjorie was her basketball practice. Itwas dreadful to be on speaking terms with only one girl on the team,Harriet Delaney, and she was not overly cordial. Marjorie tried toremember that Miss Randall had appointed her to her position, that theright to play was hers; but the unfriendly players made her nervous, andshe lost her usual snap and daring. The second week's practice came, andshe resolved to play up to her usual form, but, try as she might, shefell far short of the promise she had shown at the tryout. She alsonoted uneasily that, no matter how early she reported for practice, theteam seemed always to be in the gymnasium before her and that one of thesubstitutes invariably held her position.
The freshmen had challenged the sophomores to play against them on thefirst Saturday afternoon in November. It was now the latter part ofOctober and both teams were utilizing as much of their spare time aspossible in preparing for the fray.
"Are you going to practice this afternoon?" whispered Geraldine Macy toMarjorie as they left the algebra class on Monday morning.
Marjorie nodded.
"Oh, dear," grumbled Jerry under her breath. "I wanted to talk to youabout the Hallowe'en party."
"What Hallowe'en party?" asked Marjorie, opening her eyes.
"Haven't you your invitation?" It was Jerry's turn to look surprised.
"I don't even know what you're talking about."
Their entrance into the study hall put an end to the conversation. Itwas renewed at noon, however, when Jerry, Irma, Marjorie and Constancetrooped out of the school building together, a seemingly contentedquartet.
"Just imagine, girls," announced Jerry, excitedly. "Marjorie doesn'tknow a thing about the Hallowe'en party. She hasn't her invitationeither. I think that's awfully queer."
"I haven't mine, but I know all about it," put in Constance Stevens,quietly.
"Who has charge of the invitations?" asked Marjorie.
"Miss Arnold. You'd better see her about yours to-day. Of course youboth want to go."
"But what is it and where is it held?" questioned Marjorie.
"It's a big dance. Weston High School, that's the boys' school, gives aparty to Sanford High on every Hallowe'en night. It's a towninstitution and as unchangeable as any law the Medes and Persians everthought of making," informed Jerry.
"Oh, how splendid!" exclaimed Marjorie. "I should like to know some niceSanford boys, and I love to dance!"
"Then you ought to meet my brother Hal," declared Jerry, solemnly, "forhe's the nicest, handsomest, best boy I know."
"Wait until you see the Crane," laughed Irma Linton. "He's the tallestboy in high school. He's six feet two inches now. They say he hasn'tstopped growing, either, and he is awfully thin. That's why the boyscall him the 'Crane.' He doesn't mind it a bit. His real name is ShermanNorwood, but no one ever calls him that except the teachers."
During the rest of the walk home the coming dance was the sole subjectunder discussion. Yes, the girls wore evening gowns, if they had them.Lots of girls wore their best summer dresses. The leading caterer ofSanford always had charge of the refreshments and the boys paid thebills. There was a real orchestra, too. Of course all the teachers werethere, but the pokey ones went home early and the jolly ones, like MissFlint and Miss Atkins, stayed until the last dance.
There were countless other questions to ask, but the luncheon hour wastoo short to admit of any lingering on the corner.
"I wish we had more time to talk," sighed Marjorie, reluctantly, as shecame to her street. "I'd love to hear more about the dance."
"We'll tell you all there is to tell after school," promised Jerry. "Oh,no, we can't either. You'll have to go to that old basketball practice.What a nuisance it is. And to think you have to play on the team withMignon, Muriel and Susan, after the way they've treated you. Why don'tyou resign?"
"I don't believe I'll play next term," said Marjorie, slowly, "but Ifeel as though I ought to stay on the team for the rest of this term.Our game with the sophomores is set for two weeks from to-morrow; then,I believe we are to play against two teams from nearby towns. Itwouldn't be fair to leave the team now, after having practiced with it."
"I don't believe I'd bother my head much about that part of it," sniffedJerry, "I'd just quit."
"No, you wouldn't, Geraldine Macy," laughed Irma. "You might grumble,but you wouldn't be so hateful."
"You don't know how hateful I can be," warned Jerry. "Some other girlsare likely to find out, though."
"Good-bye. I must not stop here another second," declared Marjorie.
"Good-bye!" floated after her as she walked rapidly toward home.
"How goes it, Lieutenant?" asked her father, who, with her mother, wasalready seated at the table as she entered the dining-room.
"Pretty well, thank you, General," she replied, touching her hand to hercurly head.
"I haven't heard you say a word about school for at least a week, mydear," commented her mother. "Has the novelty of Sanford High worn offso soon?"
"No, indeed, Captain," returned Marjorie, earnestly. "I'm finding outnew things every day." She did not add that some of the "new things" hadnot been agreeable, nor did she volunteer any further informationconcerning her school. This touch of reticence on the part of herusually talkative daughter caused her mother to look at her searchinglyand wonder if Marjorie had something on her mind which in due seasonwould be brought to light. The subject of the dance returning to theyoung girl's thoughts, she began at once to talk of it, and herenthusiastic description of the coming affair served to al
lay hermother's vague impression that Marjorie was not quite happy, and sheentered into the important discussion of what her daughter should wearwith that unselfish interest belonging only to a mother.
When Marjorie returned to school that afternoon she felt happier thanshe had been since her advent into Sanford High School. The thought ofthe coming dance brought with it a delightful thrill of anticipation.She had always had such good times at the school dances given by her boyand her girl chums of B----. She hoped she would enjoy this Hallowe'enfrolic. She wondered if the "Terrible Trio" would be there. She smiledover Jerry's appropriate appellation, then frowned at herself forcountenancing it. Good soldiers didn't indulge in personalities.
That afternoon she found it hard, however, to concentrate herthoughts on her studies, and when Miss Atkins asked her on what day thePilgrim Fathers landed in America, she absent-mindedly replied"Hallowe'en," to the great joy of her class. During her physiology hourshe managed to keep strictly to the subject; but she was impatient forthe afternoon to pass so that she could go to Miss Arnold for herinvitation.
Her eyes sparkled, however, when, on returning to the study hall, shesaw lying on her desk a square white envelope addressed to her.
"Oh, here it is," she thought delightedly. "I'm so glad. I wonder ifConstance has hers."
She tore open the end of the envelope with eager fingers and drew out afolded sheet of note paper. But the light died out of her face as sheread:
"My dear Miss Dean:
"For some time the members of the freshman team have been dissatisfiedwith your playing, and have repeatedly urged me to allow Miss Thorntonto play in your position on the team. Not wishing to seem unfair, MissRandall and I watched your work at practice Wednesday afternoon andagreed that the requested change would be best. As manager of thefreshmen team, their welfare must ever be my first consideration. Itherefore feel no hesitation in asking you for your resignation from theteam.
"Yours sincerely,
"MARCIA ARNOLD."
A sigh of humiliation that was half a sob rose to Marjorie's lips. Herchin quivered ominously. Suddenly a dreadful thought flashed across herbrain. Suppose Mignon and the others were watching her to see how shereceived the bad news. Marjorie's desire to cry left her. She leanedback in her seat and assumed an air of indifference far removed from herreal state of mind. Then she calmly refolded the letter and placed it inits envelope with the impassivity of a young sphinx.
Later that afternoon, as Mignon La Salle strolled out of school betweenher two satellites, Susan and Muriel, she was heard to declare withdisappointed peevishness that that priggish Miss Dean was either toostupid to resent or too thick-skinned to feel a plain out-and-out snub.