coming back to school to finish the year, Constance?" asked
Marjorie, at last.

"Yes. I am going to try to make up for lost time. I'll take in June the
examinations I should have tried in January. I hope to be a Sanford
sophomore, Marjorie. Aunt Edith is coming to visit us this summer. She
is going to bring Charlie home."

Constance remained with Marjorie until almost noon.

"I wish you'd stay to luncheon," coaxed the little lieutenant.

"I can't. I'm sorry. I promised father I'd be home at noon."

"Then I wish you were going to the picnic this afternoon."

Constance shook her head, looking wistful, nevertheless.

"I'd rather not. Mignon will be there. It is better to be out of sight
and out of mind until after Monday."

"Everything is turning out beautifully," sighed Marjorie. "There's only
one thing more that I could possibly wish for."

"What is that?" asked Constance quickly.

"My lost butterfly."

"Perhaps it will fly back home when you least expect it," consoled
Constance.

"Lost pins don't fly," retorted Marjorie. "If they did my butterfly
would have come back to me long ago."

But, even then, though she could not know it, her cherished butterfly
was poising its golden wings for the homeward flight.

CHAPTER XXV

MARJORIE DEAN TO THE RESCUE

By one o'clock that afternoon 19-- had assembled at the big elm tree on
the river road which had been chosen as a meeting place. The flower
hunters had planned to follow the road for a mile to a point where a
boat house, which had a small teashop connected with it, was situated.
Owing to the continued spring weather the proprietor had opened the
place earlier than usual and it was decided that the picnickers should
make this their headquarters, returning there for tea when they grew
tired of roaming the neighboring woods.

Marjorie Dean had not hailed the prospect of 19--'s picnic with
enthusiasm. She did not welcome the idea of coming into close contact
with the little knot of freshmen that were loyal to Mignon La Salle's
interests. However, it would be a pleasure to walk in the fresh spring
woods and gather flowers, so she started for the rendezvous that
afternoon determined to have the best kind of a time possible under the
circumstances.

She had promised to call for Jerry, but the latter, accompanied by
Irma, met her halfway between the two houses.

"I thought you were never coming," grumbled the stout girl, in her
characteristic fashion.