Connie's
dance before I ever had a chance _she_ asked me not to say anything. She
was still so hurt over that affair of my pin that she was afraid Mary
might not like her so much if she knew. I didn't know what to do, then.
If I were to say that Mary had asked me to tell her, well--I thought
Connie might think her curious."

Mary made a half-stifled exclamation of anger. Then she shrugged her
shoulders with inimitable contempt and fixed her gaze on the opposite
wall, assuming an air of boredom she was far from feeling.

"Go on," commanded Mrs. Dean. Marjorie had hesitated at the
interruption.

"There isn't much more to tell," continued Marjorie bravely, "only that
Mignon came back to school and met Mary and made mischief. You know the
rest, Captain. You remember what I said to you the other day----"

"Then you _had_ told your mother things about me, already!" burst forth
Mary furiously. "Very well. You know what I said this morning. Just
remember it."

Marjorie gazed piteously at the angry girl. She could not believe that
Mary intended to carry out her threat of the morning.

"What did you say to Marjorie this morning?" inquired Mrs. Dean in cold
displeasure. She was endeavoring to be impartial, but her clear mental
vision pointed that it was not her daughter who was at fault.

Mary's reply was flung defiantly forth. "I said I'd never speak to her
again, and I won't! I won't!"

If Mary had expected Mrs. Dean either to order her to reconsider her
rash words or plead with her for reconciliation, she was doomed to
disappointment. "We will take you at your word, Mary," came the calm
answer. "Hereafter Marjorie must not speak to you unless you address her
first. Of course, it will be unpleasant for all of us, but I can see
nothing else to be done. You may write to your father if you choose. He
will undoubtedly write me in return, and naturally I shall tell him the
plain, unvarnished truth, together with several items of interest
concerning Mignon La Salle which cannot be withheld from him. I shall
not forbid you to continue your friendship with her. You are old enough
now to know right from wrong. So long as she does nothing to break the
conventions of society, I can condemn her only as a trouble-maker. My
advice to you would be to drop her acquaintance. When Constance returns
it would be well for you and Marjorie to invite her here and clear up
this difficulty. However, that rests with you. So far as General and I