Neither girl said anything for several minutes after Miss Phillips had gone. Marjorie sat down at her desk and started to write; Ruth turned the pages of her book, but she did not look at the contents.
“What are you going to do about it, Marj?” she asked.
“Nothing,” replied Marjorie, indifferently.
Ruth’s hopes rose, but she shook her head. “I can’t allow that,” she said. “You ought to be a Girl Scout.”
“But most of the good times are over now.”
“Not this summer’s camping trip. And if we tell Miss Phillips the reason, she’ll probably let you take the second-class test with the others next Friday night.”
Marjorie’s face brightened. It was the dream of her heart to become a Girl Scout! But then she thought of the disgrace this would necessitate bringing upon Ruth. Miss White and Miss Phillips would both have to know the story—and perhaps even Miss Allen and some of the scouts. Ruth had not treated her as a scout should treat anyone, let alone a former friend; but that would not excuse Marjorie, if she disregarded the other girl’s feelings. She thought of the scout slogan that Miss Phillips had just been speaking about—“Do a good turn daily.” “And if I start my career as a Girl Scout by disregarding that law, it would be to begin all wrong. Better stay out of the troop forever,” she reflected.
“I’m not going to do a thing, Ruth,” she said aloud. “It would be too hard on you!”
Ruth jumped up with characteristic impulsiveness. “I’m going straight to Miss White this very minute,” she said, “and lay the whole thing before her. Then I’ll do whatever she advises.”
Before she could protest, Ruth was gone. Marjorie turned to her writing, but she could think of nothing but the present complication. She felt sorry for Ruth, but she could not help hoping that Miss White would insist upon a confession.