CHAPTER XX
GRIFFITH’S CHOICE
All during dinner Ruth watched Marjorie’s ever increasing popularity with a sense of irritation. And after the party adjourned to the porch the talk was of nothing but the experiences of her hated rival.
“Are you too tired to go to the dance tonight, Marjorie?” asked John Hadley, with concern.
Marjorie smiled peacefully; it was so pleasant just to be able to do as she pleased. She settled herself comfortably in the cushioned wicker chair, and half closed her eyes in contentment.
“No, thanks, John; I believe I’ll stay right here tonight, and rest. For I want to take part in the meet tomorrow afternoon.”
Ruth frowned unconsciously; already she saw her chance of winning the cup, and with it the prestige the victory would carry, vanishing from her grasp. She longed so much to be included among the intimate friends of the Trowbridge girls, and to be interesting to Griffith Hunter. Thus far, she had made no progress; not a single boy, except Harold, had shown her any attention. She might almost as well have remained at home. Marjorie, absent or present, was always the center of interest. Making a great effort to conceal her annoyance, she glanced at the group about her in the hope that John, or Jack,—or anyone except Harold—might invite her to accompany him to the dance.
But John Hadley’s next remark dispelled any such hope as far as he was concerned.
“I believe I’ll stay at home then,” he declared. “I guess I’m pretty tired, too. How about you, Wilkinson?”
“Me for bed!” exclaimed Jack, with feeling.
The groups began to talk among themselves, and in a moment Ruth found her ever-present admirer at her side.