sn't know it. If I told him, he'd tell Laurie and Laurie
would promptly have a spasm. One of the girls in the senior class
mentioned it to me."

"Mignon really sings well," put in Irma. "Don't you remember the time
she sang at Muriel's party, two years ago? She has been studying ever
since. She must have improved a good deal since then."

"Oh, I've heard her sing more than once," said Jerry Macy, "but I don't
like her voice. It's--well, it isn't sweet and sympathetic."

"Neither is she," put in Susan with her customary giggle.

"Wait until Connie sings at the try-out. Then someone can gently lead
Mignon to a back seat," predicted Jerry. "It would give me a good deal
of pleasure to be that 'someone.'"

"I don't think I shall enter the try-out," remarked Constance, flushing.

"Why not?" was the questioning chorus.

"Oh, I don't know, only I just don't care to. If I do, someone might say
that I went into it because----" She hesitated, and the flush on her
cheeks deepened.

"Because you expected Laurie to choose you, you mean," finished Jerry.

"Yes; that is what I meant," admitted Constance. "Of course, I know
there are other girls who are better singers than I, and that I couldn't
possibly be chosen. Still, I'd rather not go into it at all, unless I
could just be in the chorus."

"You are a goose; a nice, dear goose, but a goose, just the same," was
Jerry's plain sentiment.

"Connie Stevens, if you don't try for that part, I'll never speak to you
again," threatened Muriel.

"I'll disown you," added Susan in mock menace.

"Connie," Marjorie's voice vibrated with sudden energy, "I think you
_ought_ to try for the Princess. I am almost sure no other girl in
Sanford High can sing so beautifully. Then there is Laurie. He has
always been nice to you. It would hurt his feelings dreadfully if you
didn't try for a part in his operetta. Besides, I know it sounds
hateful, but I can't help saying that I'd be glad to see you take the
Princess away from Mignon. That is, if she really stands a good chance
of winning it. I suppose that is what Miss Archer would call 'an ignoble
sentiment,' but I mean it, just the same." Marjorie glanced half
defiantly around the bright-eyed circle. They were now in Sargent's,
seated about their favorite table.

"Hurrah for you, Marjorie!" cried Jerry, flourishing her hand as though
it were a pennant of triumph. "That's what I say, too. You are really a
human, everyday person, after all.