bracelet."

"'Supposedly lost?'" repeated Mignon, arching her eyebrows. "Have you
found it? If you have, give it to me at once."

"There is only one person who can do that," said Marjorie, gravely, "and
that person is you."

The betraying color flew to the French girl's cheeks. "What do you
mean?" she asked, but her voice shook.

"Why do you ask me that?" retorted Marjorie, with sudden impatience.
"You know that on the night of the Weston dance you pretended you had
lost your bracelet in order to throw suspicion on Miss Stevens. Someone
saw you lay your bracelet on the dressing table. The same person saw you
leave the room, return a few minutes afterward and pick it up from the
table. How could you be so cruel and dishonorable?"

"It isn't true," stormed Mignon. "Constance Stevens is a thief. A
thief, do you hear? And when she comes back to Sanford the school shall
know it."

"No, Constance Stevens is not a thief. You are the real thief," said
Marjorie with quiet condemnation. "Knowing the butterfly pin to be mine,
you kept it for many weeks. However, I did not come here to quarrel with
you. I came to help Marcia and to save you from the effects of your own
wrongdoing. Constance Stevens is in Sanford. She is going to Miss Archer
to-morrow to prove her innocence. I am going with her. The girl who
knows the truth about your bracelet will be there, too. You knew long
ago that Constance's butterfly pin was her very own."

"Of course I knew it," sneered Mignon. There was a look of consternation
in her eyes, however.

"Then that is another point against you. You do not deserve to be let
off so easily, but for Marcia's sake, I am going to say that if you will
go with Constance and me to Miss Archer to-morrow morning and withdraw
your charges against Constance, stating that you have your bracelet, we
will never mention the subject again. Meet me in Miss Archer's outer
office at twenty minutes past eight." She did not even turn to look at
the discomfited Mignon as she issued her command.

"Marjorie," said Marcia, hesitatingly, as they walked in silence down
the poplar-shaded street. "Shall I--had I--do you wish me to go with
you to Miss Archer?"

Marjorie cast a quick, searching glance at the thoroughly repentant
junior. "What for?" she smiled, ignoring all that had been. They had now
come to where their ways parted. Marjorie held out her hand. "We are
going to be friends forever and always, aren't we, Marcia?"

Ma