She pictured herself in the Girl Scout uniform, marching along with the other girls, helping them with the play, and accompanying them on their camping trip; she thought of the pleasure of telling her father and mother and Jack,—yes, and John Hadley—of her final triumph. Miss Phillips, too, would be genuinely glad of her good fortune.
She waited impatiently for Ruth to return. She got up and straightened the room, took out some crocheting, put it down, and finally sat down on the couch to dream of the fulfillment of her cherished hope.
In about fifteen minutes, Ruth came back, accompanied by Miss White. The older woman looked sad as she took Marjorie’s hand, and spoke softly.
“I am so sorry, my dear, that this had to happen: that Ruth was tempted and fell, and you had to suffer. But she has done right to confess.”
“Oh, Miss White, I didn’t want her to tell any body else.”
“Yes, I know; she told me how noble you have been about it. But you have some rights, Marjorie. I shall tell Miss Allen to-morrow that there has been a mistake, and ask her permission to give you a special examination.”
“Tell her the truth!” exclaimed Ruth. “It isn’t fair for you to take the blame, Miss White.”
“I will tell her if she asks. Marjorie, can you come to my room at three to-morrow afternoon?”
“Certainly,” replied Marjorie.
Miss White opened the door. “Leave the matter in my hands, girls, and don’t worry about it any more.”