the news of what went on among the boys and girls
she had left behind.

It had been a busy, yet a very long week for Marjorie. The unpacking of
the Deans' furniture, which had been shipped to Sanford a week before
their arrival there, and the setting to rights of her new home had so
occupied the attention of Mrs. Dean and Nora, her faithful
maid-of-all-work, that Marjorie, aside from certain tasks allotted to
her to perform, was left for the most part to her own devices. As they
had arrived in Sanford on Monday, Marjorie's mother had decided to give
her daughter an opportunity to accustom herself to her new home and
surroundings before allowing her to enter the high school. So the day
for Marjorie's initial appearance in "The Sanford High School for Girls"
had been set for the following Monday.

It was now Friday afternoon. Marjorie had spent the morning in writing a
fifteen-page letter to Mary, the minor refrain of which was: "I can't
tell you how much I miss you, Mary," and which contained views regarding
her future high school career that were far from being optimistic. She
had not finished her letter. She decided to leave it open until after
luncheon and, laying it aside for the time, she had tripped down stairs
and out doors.

"What are you going to do this afternoon, dear?" asked her mother as
Marjorie slipped into place at the luncheon table.

"I don't know, Mother," was the almost doleful reply. "I thought I might
take a walk up Orchard street as far as Sargent's, that cunning little
confectioner's shop on the corner. Perhaps, if I go, I may see something
interesting to tell Mary. I haven't finished my letter."

Marjorie did not add that her walk would include a last stroll past the
towering gray walls of a certain stone building on Lincoln avenue, which
bore over its massive oak doors the inscription, "The Sanford High
School for Girls." Almost every day since her arrival, she had visited
it, viewing it speculatively and with a curious kind of apprehension.
She was not afraid to plunge into her new school life, but deep down in
her heart she felt some little misgiving. What if the new girls proved
to be neither likable nor companionable? What if she liked them but they
did not like her? She had just begun the same apprehensive train of
thought that had been disturbing her peace of mind for the last four
days when her mother's voice broke the spell.

"If you are going that far I wish you would go on to Par