he part of Mignon. Greatly to her
disappointment, her new friend, in whose behalf she had renounced so
much, had received her bold announcement, "I'm done with Marjorie Dean
forever," quite as a matter of course. She had merely shrugged her
expressive shoulders and remarked, "I am glad you've come to your
senses," without even inquiring into the details. Ignoring Mary's
wrongs, which had now become an old story to her and therefore devoid of
interest, she had launched forth into a lengthy discussion of her own
plans, a subject of which she was never tired of talking. After that it
did not take long for the foolish little lieutenant, who had so
unfeelingly deserted her regiment, to see that Mignon was entirely
self-centered. Other revelations soon followed. Mignon was agreeable as
long as she could have her own way. She would not brook contradiction,
and she snapped her fingers at advice. She was a law unto herself, and
to be her chum meant to follow blindly and unquestioningly wherever she
chose to lead. Mary tried to bring herself to believe that she had made
a wise choice. It was an honor to be best friends with the richest girl
in Sanford High School. She owned an electric runabout and wore
expensive clothes. At home she was the moving power about which the
houseful of servants meekly revolved. All this was very gratifying, to
be sure, but deep in her heart Mary knew that she would rather spend one
blessed hour of the old, carefree companionship with Marjorie than a
year with this strange, elfish girl with whom she had cast her lot. But
it was too late to retreat. She had burned her bridges behind her. She
must abide by that which she had chosen.

To give her due credit, she still believed that Mignon had been
misjudged. She invested the French girl with a sense of honor which she
had never possessed, and to this Mary pinned her faith. Perhaps if she
had not been still sullenly incensed against Constance Stevens, the
scales might have fallen from her eyes. But her resentment against the
latter was exceeded only by Mignon's dislike for the gentle girl. Thus
the common bond of hatred held them together. She had only to mention
Constance's name and Mignon would rise to the bait with torrential
anger. This in itself was an unfailing solace to Mary.

To-night, however, her conscience troubled her. For the past three weeks
basket ball had been the all-important topic of the hour with the
students of Sanford High School. I