Kitabı oku: «Marjorie Dean, High School Senior», sayfa 11
CHAPTER XX – WHEN FRIENDS FALL OUT
“For goodness sake, Marjorie, will you kindly tell me what has happened?” Muriel Harding overtook Marjorie in the corridor on the way to her second morning recitation, fairly hissing her question into her friend’s ear.
Marjorie turned a concerned face to her. She wondered what new difficulty was about to besiege her. “What do you mean, Muriel?”
“I haven’t time to explain now. Here. Take these and read them. They were on my desk this morning. You’ll understand later what I mean. I’ll run over to your house on the way back to school this noon. Then we can talk. I’m so surprised I can’t see straight.” Thrusting two envelopes into Marjorie’s hand, Muriel left her and hurried on.
Placing the envelopes in the back of her text book, Marjorie proceeded slowly down the corridor to her own recitation in French. Resisting the temptation to examine their contents, she devoted herself strictly to the lesson. The next hour, which would be spent in the study hall, would give her ample time to look at them.
Returned to the study hall and free at last to learn the cause of Muriel’s agitation, she forced back the sharp exclamation of dismay that rose to her lips. Both envelopes were addressed; one to Muriel Harding, the other to Jerry Macy. Through the address on the latter a pencil had been drawn. Below the cancelled line it had been readdressed to Muriel. The writing on the one was Jerry’s. The cancelled script on the other was Lucy Warner’s. The re-addressing had been done by Jerry.
Marjorie’s heart sank. She was almost sure of the nature of the notes within. Bracing herself in the seat, she drew Jerry’s note from its envelope. It turned out to be exactly what she feared. Jerry had tendered her formal resignation to the club. Lucy Warner’s note contained the same information. It differed little from Jerry’s, save for one sentence in the latter’s note: “Kindly arrange to hold the club meeting at some place other than my home.”
An intensity of bitterness toward Mignon filled Marjorie’s heart as she fingered Jerry’s note. She resentfully laid the blame for the whole affair at the French girl’s door. Jerry, Lucy and herself had all been caught in the meshes of the net which Mignon had set for their unwary feet. Marjorie wrathfully vowed that she would expose Mignon’s malicious mischief-making at the meeting of the club on Thursday evening. She hoped the members would demand Mignon’s resignation. She deserved to be thus publicly humiliated. Yet the more she considered this revenge, the less it appealed to her. It savored too greatly of Mignon’s own tactics. She finally decided to ask Connie to go home to luncheon with her. They could then talk matters over and agree on some plan of action by the time Muriel appeared.
Although Marjorie had prudently eschewed note-writing since that fateful afternoon during her junior year when she and Muriel had come to grief over the latter’s note, she resolved for once to yield to temptation. Scribbling a few hasty lines to Constance, whose desk was not far from her own, she managed successfully to send the missive. Glancing over it, Constance’s eyes quickly sought Marjorie’s. A smiling nod of her golden head informed the writer of the note that Connie would not fail her.
That point definitely settled, Marjorie speculated gloomily regarding whether Jerry’s spleen would remain directed only against herself or whether she intended to desert from the sextette of girls to which she belonged. Would Muriel at once apprise Susan, Irma and Constance of Jerry’s resignation from the club, or would she not? Hardly knowing what to expect, it was a relief to Marjorie when, on entering the locker room at noon, she saw no sign of either the stout girl or the other members of the sextette. The latter she guessed were waiting outside school. One look at four solemn-faced girls collected together on the opposite side of the street revealed to her that Muriel had put her three friends in possession of the news.
“Oh, Marjorie,” she hailed. “Come here. After I spoke to you I decided to tell the girls about Jerry. It’s a good thing I did. She hardly spoke to Susan and Irma this morning. They didn’t understand, of course, and were dreadfully hurt.”
A tiny pucker of vexation wrinkled Marjorie’s forehead. Muriel’s unexpected act had quite upset her plan of asking Connie’s advice beforehand regarding Mignon. She would have to choose her own course of action at once. Should she arouse her friends’ anger against Mignon and thus set in motion the wheel of vengeance, or should she offer an explanation of Jerry’s wrath? She knew the latter well enough to believe that no one would hear any complaint against herself from the stout girl’s lips. When especially roiled, Jerry was always uncommunicative. Slight irritations alone were productive of voluble protest on her part.
“What ails Jerry, Marjorie?” asked Irma anxiously. “None of us know. I hope you do.”
“I know,” cut in Constance quickly. “I only waited until Marjorie came before saying so. I’d rather she would tell you.” Constance had hitherto prudently volunteered no information.
“There isn’t much to tell.” Marjorie’s moment of doubt was past. Even as Irma spoke it was borne upon her that she had accepted Mr. La Salle’s note as a sign. It but remained to her to do her duty. “Yesterday afternoon Jerry and I had a disagreement about Mignon. Connie was with us when it happened. The disagreement arose over something which Mignon had done that is personal to me. Yesterday noon I received a note of thanks and a box of American Beauty roses from Mr. La Salle. You can understand why he sent them. Jerry was very angry at Mignon and proposed that we should expel her from the club. As our disagreement related to my affairs, I objected. Jerry said, ‘All right. Have it your own way,’ and left us. Later I called her on the telephone and she wouldn’t talk to me. You already know of her resignation.”
“You might know that Mignon was mixed in it in some way,” cried Muriel. “I suppose this must have been the last straw or Jerry wouldn’t have resigned. What are we to do without her? And Lucy Warner, too.”
“She is angry with me, too.” Marjorie’s voice sounded rather weary. “I don’t know why. I might as well tell you a little more. Jerry believes that Mignon made mischief between us. That’s the reason she is down on Mignon. Though I may suspect Mignon of it, I can’t prove it because Lucy will tell me nothing. It wouldn’t be fair to ask Mignon to resign simply because she is suspected of turning Lucy against me. I told Jerry so, but she wouldn’t see it in that light.”
“We’d better all go to Mignon and make her own up to it,” suggested Susan. “If she does, we’ll ask her to resign from the Lookouts.”
“I don’t think it would be wise.” It was peace-loving Irma Linton who spoke. “I don’t believe Mignon could be made to own up to any wrong thing she has done. Besides, it would be a blot on the club escutcheon to ask her to resign. Almost every girl in school has a pretty fair idea of why we asked Mignon to join the Lookouts. It is generally known that Marjorie took her home from Riverview in the Deans’ automobile that night that Rowena ran away from her. It is also known that Marjorie has tried hard to help her in spite of all the mean things Mignon has done to her and said of her. Everyone respects Marjorie for it. Miss Archer has been heard to say that Marjorie is the highest-principled girl she has ever had in Sanford High. She and Jerry were the founders of the club. They asked Mignon to join it. Do you think it would reflect to Marjorie’s credit, or Jerry’s either, to force Mignon out of the club now? I don’t. Jerry is in the wrong. Some day she’ll see it. What we ought to do is not accept either hers or Lucy’s resignation. Let them stay away until they choose to come back. They will both come back. I feel sure of it.”
This long, forceful speech from gentle Irma had a potent effect upon her listeners. Susan, Muriel and Constance were deeply impressed. Marjorie, however, was red with embarrassment. Miss Archer’s opinion of her, as quoted by Irma, amazed the blushing lieutenant. As for Irma’s views on Mignon, they coincided with her own.
“Just see Marjorie blush,” teased Muriel. “She wasn’t expecting to hear Irma say so many nice things about her.”
“I – you – it makes me feel foolish,” Marjorie stammered. “Please don’t ever do it again, Irma. I agree with you about Mignon, though, and about not accepting the two resignations. Will you three girls stand by Irma and me in this at the meeting?” She was sure of Constance, but not so sure of Susan and Muriel.
“We will,” came simultaneously from the two.
“Thank you,” smiled Marjorie. “There’s just one thing more and then we must hurry along. We’ve been standing here for almost half an hour. Mignon will probably be at the meeting. We five have agreed that she is to stay in the club. Between now and Thursday night we must see all the other members except Mignon and explain things. If they are agreeable to our plan, then at the meeting Muriel will act as president and read the resignations. I will move that they be not accepted and one of you must second the motion. Then we’ll put it to a standing vote. Everyone must vote not to accept them and that will close the matter.”
This plan was also approved and agreed upon. After deciding upon Muriel’s home as a place of meeting on Thursday, the participants in the sidewalk conference set off briskly toward their homes to partake of sadly-neglected luncheons.
At the Thursday evening meeting of the Lookouts, eleven kindly conspirators followed to the letter the program laid out for them by Marjorie and Irma. There was only one rebel, and she dared not assert herself openly. As the news of the two resignations had been carefully kept from her, Mignon La Salle was thunderstruck to learn that Jerry had left the club. Lucy’s resignation she had confidently expected. She had also feared that she might be taken to task for it, and had come to the Hardings’ home prepared to give battle royal.
Greatly against her will she rose with the others when the standing vote was taken regarding the non-acceptance of the two resignations. At heart a coward, she invariably evaded making a bold stand against opposition. She preferred underhanded warfare and would not show real fight unless cornered. When the fateful motion made by Marjorie and seconded by Irma had been passed, and Muriel had directed Irma to write Jerry and Lucy to that effect, Mignon longed to make strenuous objection. Craft conquering the impulse she made an inward vow that she would see to it that Jerry Macy, at least, never returned to the club. With Jerry gone from the Lookouts she would have greater leeway to do as she pleased.
“There’s something else I wish to mention.” Muriel’s clear voice broke in on Mignon’s dark meditations. “We wish no outsider to know that either Lucy or Jerry has tendered a resignation. I don’t need to ask you to promise to keep it quiet. As Lookouts you know your duty in the matter. I think it would be wise, Irma,” she turned to the secretary, “to mention this in your letters to Lucy and Jerry. They will understand then, perhaps, just how kindly we feel toward them. I know that neither of them will give out the least information to anyone.”
A decided scowl darkened Mignon’s brow as she heard this plea for secrecy. She had already contemplated the enticing prospect for gossip which the resignations promised. She made mental reservation that she, at least, would not bind herself to silence. She would whisper it about, if she chose, at her own discretion. If it finally leaked out and she should be accused of spreading it, she could easily shift the blame upon either Lucy or Jerry; Lucy preferably. She would be a more satisfactory scapegoat.
Thus while eleven girls consulted earnestly together in an endeavor toward fair play toward all, the twelfth member of the club smiled ironically and busied her brain with endless treacherous schemes for holding her own position in the club without living up to its irksome obligations. Could the innocent, whole-hearted eleven, who had overlooked in her so much that was detestable, have read Mignon’s mind, her connection with the Lookouts would have been summarily cut short. As it was, though they did not trust her, they patiently endured her and hoped for the best.
Highly elated over having thus escaped even a word of reproach, Mignon drove home from the meeting in her runabout, amused rather than displeased at the somewhat restrained manner which her companions had exhibited toward her. The very next morning, under promise of secrecy, she retailed the forbidden story of the resignations to three different girls. They received it with ohs and ahs, and in due season imparted it to their most intimate friends. Within three days it had traveled far, and presently someone referred it to Jerry for confirmation.
Having received but sulkily refused to answer Irma’s note, at heart Jerry fully appreciated the delicacy and good will of her friends. Her wrath now rose to a high pitch over being thus approached on the tabooed subject. Nor did she fail to attribute it to its true source. Her first move was to seek Lucy Warner.
Marching resolutely into Miss Archer’s outer office on the morning of the fourth day after the receipt of Irma’s note, she accosted stony-faced Lucy with, “See here, Lucy, I’ve a word to say to you. Did you get Irma Linton’s note?”
“Yes.” Lucy had the grace to blush. She was already feeling ashamed of her cruel treatment of Marjorie. The latter’s sorrowful brown eyes haunted her and she was frequently tortured with the fear that she had been too hasty.
“Now listen to me.” Jerry’s voice was very gruff. She blamed Lucy considerably for what had happened. “If any girl asks you if you’ve resigned from the club, just tell her to mind her own affairs. Don’t give her a word of information. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” repeated Lucy, almost humbly. She keenly sensed Jerry’s disapproval of herself. “I will not give anyone an answer to that question. I had not intended to.”
Jerry’s tense features softened a trifle. “You’ve made a mistake, Lucy. No finer girl ever lived than Marjorie Dean. I don’t know what Mignon La Salle has told you, but take my word for it, it’s not true. I resigned from the club because I can’t stand Mignon. That’s why Marjorie and I fell out. Just the same, I like her better than any other girl I ever knew. But until she and the girls give up bothering with that deceitful, untruthful gossip, I shall have nothing more to do with her or them. I hope Mignon will overreach herself and get put out of the club. When that comes off, then back to the Lookouts for Jerry.”
“I wish I could agree with you,” stated Lucy primly, “but it is impossible. My reason for turning against Marjorie Dean is sound. I wish it were not.”
“Answer me just one question. Was it Mignon who told you something against Marjorie?” Jerry fixed unblinking eyes on the other girl.
For a moment Lucy did not reply. She appeared to be turning something over in her mind. “I will answer you,” she said finally. “I made a promise not to go to Marjorie with what was told me. I made no promise regarding anyone else. Yes, it was Mignon.”
“And you believed Mignon?” Jerry’s question came almost explosively.
“Yes. What she told me no one besides Marjorie and myself knew. No one except Marjorie could have possibly told her. I shall never speak to Marjorie again.”
“I give it up. You certainly seem to know something that I don’t.” Jerry turned on her heel and walked to the door. Once outside she muttered: “Whatever you know that I don’t, I’ll make it my business to find out or my name’s not Jerry Geraldine Jeremiah Macy.”
CHAPTER XXI – A MESSAGE FROM JERRY
Jerry had a second mission to perform, however, which she hailed with anticipation. Cut off by her own obstinacy from former intimacy with her chums and from the work of the day nursery, she was an extremely lonely young person with a great deal of idle time on her hands. Energetic Jerry loathed inaction. She therefore chose Mignon La Salle as her second subject for activity and lay in wait for her.
Two days passed, following her interview with Lucy Warner, before she found the desired opportunity to waylay the French girl. Setting off after school for a lonely session at Sargent’s, at the curbstone before the shop she spied Mignon’s runabout. Forging gleefully into her favorite haunt, she steered straight for Mignon, who sat in solitary grandeur at a rear table. Catching sight of Jerry, the arch plotter half rose from her chair as though about to make a prudent exit from the place.
“Sit down.” Before her quarry could leave the table, Jerry had reached it. “Don’t try to dodge me. I’ve been on the watch for you ever since you made trouble for Marjorie Dean. I’m not a Lookout now so I can tell you a few things.”
“I won’t listen to you.” Mignon was now on her feet.
“Oh, yes, you will. If you don’t, I’ll go to your house and say my say to your father.” Jerry looked grimly capable of executing the threat.
Fearful of such a calamity, Mignon reluctantly resumed her seat. “I’m not afraid of you,” she sneered. “Say quickly what you have to say. I am in a hurry to go home.”
“I’m not. Still I don’t care to be seen talking with you any longer than I can help.” Jerry was brutally rude and she knew it. The time for keeping up appearances was past. “Now this is what I have to say. You are the most disloyal, mischief-making person I’ve ever known. You have no more right to be a Lookout than that soda-fountain has; my apologies to the soda-fountain. You can’t fool me. You never have. I know you like a book. It was on account of you that I left the club. I’ll never go back to it until you’re out of it.”
“You’ll wait a long time then.” Mignon gave a sarcastic laugh. “I shall stay in the club as long as I please and you can’t prevent me.”
“I’ll do my best,” challenged Jerry. “Remember that’s a warning. I’m going to make it my business to find out what you told Lucy Warner about Marjorie. When I do you’ll hear of it in a way you won’t like.”
“You’ll never find out,” taunted Mignon scornfully. “Lucy won’t tell you and I certainly shan’t. No one else knows.” Taken off her guard she had rashly admitted the very thing Jerry was endeavoring to make her say.
“I’m going to know,” assured Jerry tersely. “I’ve already made you say that you did tell Lucy something hateful about Marjorie. Now you can beat it. I’ve warned you! Oh, yes. If you circulate any more reports in school about Lucy’s and my resignations, I’ll put a notice on the bulletin board warning the girls to pay no attention to your tales. I’ll see that it stays there, too, long enough to do some good.” With this parting shot Jerry turned abruptly away and walked out of the shop, her primary desire for ice cream quite forgotten.
As she plodded slowly down the street toward home, Jerry solemnly considered the stubborn stand she had taken against the Lookouts. She was not in the least pleased with herself. To continue to hold herself aloof from Marjorie, in particular, whom she adored, promised to be a dispiriting task. Still she was determined to do it. She argued that to go back to the club and admit that she had been in the wrong would merely make her appear ridiculous. She contemplated her self-exile from her friends with small joy. Over-weening pride, however, caused her to gloomily accept it. Her sole consolation lay in the thought that unbeknown to her chums she would further their mutual interests in every possible way. The idea of thus becoming an unsuspected source of good to them, held for her a morbid fascination. While they believed her to be antagonistic, she would secretly be just the opposite. This beneficent but somewhat absurd resolution was exactly what one might expect from Jerry.
Though she could not know it, it was the precise conclusion at which her chums had already arrived. They knew her better than she knew herself. When she had deliberately ignored Irma’s friendly note, her five chums had consulted earnestly together regarding what they had best do. Irma and Constance proposed that the five should visit her in a body, in an endeavor to win her back. Muriel, Susan and Marjorie opposed such a measure. “It wouldn’t do the least bit of good,” Muriel had emphatically declared.
Marjorie had quietly echoed Muriel’s opinion, adding: “Let dear old Jerry alone, girls. She must work out her own salvation. When she comes back to us it must be of her own free will. She hasn’t really left us, you know. She’ll always be a Lookout, heart and hand.”
As December rushed on its snowy way toward the holiday season, it became somewhat difficult for Marjorie to practice what she had preached. Jerry’s desertion left a huge blank in her life that could not be filled. The brusque, good-humored stout girl had formerly been her most ardent supporter in making Christmas merry for the poor of Sanford. The little folks at the day nursery loudly bewailed her absence from their midst.
Mrs. Macy and Hal, who had learned the deplorable circumstances from Jerry’s own lips, held more than one energetic but futile argument with her in an effort to reduce her to reason. She met these earnest admonitors with an unyielding stolidity that caused them both to retire from the field in disgust. Whenever she chanced to meet her chums she greeted them with a cool civility that was infinitely more annoying than no greeting would have been. She marched defiantly to and from school by herself, preferring her own company to that of the Sanford High students outside the intimate circle of girls in which she had once moved.
She made but one exception to them. She was occasionally seen in company with Veronica Browning. The mystery surrounding the latter fascinated her. Then, too, she greatly admired this delightful girl. Although Veronica had learned of Jerry’s self-made Coventry, she never referred to it when with the latter. From Marjorie, who had been quick to note Jerry’s predilection for Veronica, she had received instructions to do all she could to lighten the young rebel’s self-imposed burden. Of her own free will she had offered her services in Jerry’s place at the day nursery. She had calmly informed the belligerent of her intention before doing so. Jerry had stared hard at her and merely said: “Go ahead and do it. You won’t hurt my feelings. Are you sure you can spare the time?” Veronica had answered in the affirmative and the subject had been immediately dropped.
The week preceding Christmas saw the Lookouts deep in preparations for the day of days. There was to be a wonderful gift-laden tree at the nursery for the children, and the usual yearly task of supplying the Sanford poor folks with holiday cheer was also carried on with a will. Marjorie’s home became a headquarters for the tireless workers and the Lookouts spent many fruitful and pleasant hours there. Even Mignon condescended to lend her presence on one or two occasions and surprised her companions by actually doing a little work. Since her encounter with Jerry she had been extremely ill at ease. She had a coward’s respect for the plain-spoken stout girl, and she now stood more in fear of her than ever. The very day after Jerry had accosted her in Sargent’s her father had promised her an expensive electric limousine as a commencement present, provided she conducted herself in exemplary fashion until then. Mignon had therefore decided to walk softly until this prize was safely in her possession.
Christmas came and went, leaving behind for Marjorie the usual liberal amount of remembrances from her friends. It was a less happy Christmas, however, than that of the previous year. Jerry’s desertion weighed heavily upon her. The two girls had always exchanged holiday gifts and calls. This year, determined to make no exception, Marjorie had selected and sent her usual good-will present to Jerry. Irma, Constance, Susan, Muriel, Harriet and Esther Lind had done likewise. From Jerry they had received nothing in return except their own gifts. Each package contained a card, on each of which had appeared the same Jerry-like message: “Keep this and send it to me later. Mignon may not always be a Lookout.”
This pertinent message provoked a certain amount of merriment on the part of the recipients. Nevertheless, an undertone of sadness lurked in the laughter. Jerry was Jerry and could not be imitated, duplicated nor replaced. They had missed her sorely at the gay round of parties that filled their holidays. Her unexpected state of rebellion had also completely upset her brother Hal’s plans for the Macys’ usual Christmas dance. He and Jerry exchanged sharp words over what he termed her “bull-headedness” and for two weeks afterward they were not on speaking terms. All in all Jerry passed a most doleful Yuletide season for which she had only herself to blame.
