tairs. The next instant she had caught the immovable little figure at
the landing in an impulsive embrace. "Poor old Lieutenant, I'm so
sorry," was her contrite cry. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings.
Listen, dear. I'm going over to see Connie this afternoon after school
and ask her to let me tell you everything you wished to know about last
year. Then you will understand why----"

Mary freed herself from the clinging arms with a jerk. "If you say a
word to Constance Stevens, I'll never forgive you!" she cried
passionately. "I won't be made ridiculous. Do you understand me? You
could tell me without asking her, if you cared to. I'd never say a word
and she'd never know the difference."

"But, Mary, I promised her----" Marjorie stopped in confusion. She had
not meant to mention her promise to Constance. She had spoken before she
thought.

"So _that's_ the reason, is it?" choked Mary, her cheeks flaming with
the humiliating knowledge. "Thank you, I don't care to hear your old
secrets. You may keep them, for all I care!" She whirled and started
toward her room.

Marjorie caught her arm. "I haven't any secrets that I wish to keep from
you, Mary," she said with quiet dignity. "Last night at the dance
Constance asked me to promise I wouldn't say anything to you about the
trouble she had with Mignon La Salle during our freshman year. We were
upstairs in her room. I was mending my flounce. It got torn when we were
dancing. I had intended asking her permission then to tell you, and when
she spoke of it first I hardly knew what to do. I didn't like to let her
think that you were curious and----"

"How dare you call me curious!" Mary stamped her foot in a sudden fury
of temper. "I'm not. I wouldn't listen to your miserable secret if you
begged me to. Now I truly believe what Miss La Salle told me. You and
your friend Constance ought to be ashamed of the way you treated that
poor girl last year. I'm sorry I ever came to your house to live. I'd
write to Father to come and take me away, but Mother would have to know.
She sha'n't be worried, no matter what I have to stand. You needn't be
afraid, I'll not make a fuss, either, so that General and Captain will
know. I'll try to pretend before them that we're just the same chums as
ever, and you'd better pretend it, too. But we won't be. From to-day on
I'll go _my_ way and choose _my_ friends and you can do the same."

"Mary Raymond, listen to me." Marjorie's hands found the shou