mused at her boyish love of
military things, encouraged her in her play and entered into it with as
much spirit as the child herself. Her father, who had once been an
officer in the National Guard, taught her the manual of arms and she had
learned it with a will.

Marjorie's military enthusiasm had been at its height when she met Mary
Raymond, who soon became equally fascinated with the stirring play. In
time other interests crowded their lives. The hard-worked armies were
laid peacefully on their wooden backs to enjoy a long, undisturbed rest,
while Marjorie and Mary became soldiers instead, addressing Mr. Dean as
"General," Mrs. Dean as "Captain," and bestowing upon themselves the
rank of ordinary enlisted soldiers who must earn their promotion by
loyal and faithful service.

Mr. Dean had been rather chary of promotions, frequently reminding his
little detachment that it is a far cry from the ranks of a private to
that of a commissioned officer. So when their parting came, Mary and
Marjorie had just received their commissions as second lieutenants,
their awards of faithful service in the grammar school.

Lieutenant Marjorie smiled, then sighed, as she started on her walk. The
salute she had just given brought a flood of memories of Mary. She felt
she would not mind exploring this strange, new, high school territory if
Mary were with her. She was sure no girl in Sanford could understand her
as Mary had. On two different afternoons she had stood across the street
from the school at the time of dismissal. She had eagerly watched the
great oak doors open wide and the long lines of girls file out, waking
the still October air with their merry voices. She had been particularly
attracted toward one tall, lithe, graceful girl whose golden hair and
brown eyes made her unusually lovely. At first sight of her, lonely,
imaginative Marjorie had named her "The Picture Girl," and had decided
that she was a darling. She had noticed that the pretty girl was always
the center of a group and she had also noted that one small,
black-haired girl with an elfish face, who wore the most exquisite
clothes invariably walked at the tall girl's side. There was a
pink-cheeked girl, too, with laughing blue eyes and dimples, and a
fair-haired, serious-faced girl, who reminded Marjorie of Alice Duval.
They usually formed part of the group about the tall girl and her dark
companion, and there was also a very short, stout girl who puffed along
anxi