ry's lips tightened obstinately as she listened. Her brief impulse
toward a frank understanding died with Marjorie's emphatic utterance.
She was inwardly furious at her chum's sharp interruption.

"I am very well aware that you would stand up for Miss Stevens, whether
she were in the right or in the wrong," she said with cold sarcasm.
"I've been seeing that ever since I came to Sanford. But just because
she is perfect in _your_ eyes is not reason why _I_ should think so. For
my part, I like Miss La Salle. She was awfully sweet to me this morning,
and I don't think it is nice in you to talk about her behind her back."

In the intensity of the moment both girls had stopped short in the
corridor, oblivious of the passing students. Mary's flashing blue eyes
fixed Marjorie's amazed brown ones in an angry gaze.

"Why, Ma-a-ry!" stammered Marjorie. "What _is_ the matter? I don't
understand you." Her bewilderment served only to increase the rancor
that had been smouldering in Mary's heart. Now it burst forth in a fury
of words.

"Don't pretend, Marjorie Dean. You know perfectly well what I mean. It
isn't necessary for me to tell you, either. When I came to Sanford to
live with you I thought I'd be the happiest girl in the world because I
was going to live at your house and go to school with you. If I had
known as much when Father and I came to see you as I know now--well, I
wouldn't--ever--have come back again!" Her anger-choked tones faltered.
She turned away her head. Then pulling herself sharply together, she
turned and hurried down the corridor.

For a second Marjorie stood rooted to the spot. Could she believe her
ears? Was it really Mary, her soldier chum, with whom she had stood
shoulder to shoulder for so many years, who had thus arraigned her? Her
instant of inaction past, she darted down the corridor after Mary. But
the latter passed into the study hall before she could overtake her. She
could do nothing now to straighten the tangle in which they had so
suddenly become involved until the morning session of school was over.
She glanced anxiously toward Mary's seat the moment she stepped across
the threshold of the study hall, only to see her friend in earnest
conversation with Mignon La Salle. An angry little furrow settled on her
usually placid brow. Mignon had lost no time in living up to her
reputation. Mary must be rescued from her baleful influence at once.
When they reached home that day she would tell her ch